by Naomi Niles
I waited two hours and then went back into Dad’s room. He was awake again and this time he managed a slight smile as I walked into the room. I pulled up a chair next to the bed and simply laid my hand on his leg. “Everything is going to be okay, Dad. The doctors here are great. You’ve been out for a couple of days; the guys found you collapsed on the floor in your office.” I saw his eyebrows raise and I imagined that he had lost track of time. “One of the guys started CPR and they called an ambulance to bring you down here. They wouldn’t let me be with you at first; they said you were out of it.” Dad nodded slightly and with his weak hand, pointed toward his mouth. I understood instantly what he needed. I bounded out of his room to the nurses’ station across the hall. “My dad’s throat is bothering him. Can he have some water?”
The nurse looked up and she tapped a few keys on her computer. “No, no water just yet. He’s getting plenty of hydration through his IV. We can’t give them water until we know that he is stable, just in case he needs to go back into surgery unexpectedly. I will bring him in a water popsicle. It’s like a sponge that’s been soaked in cool water and it will help soothe his throat.”
I felt so helpless. I wanted to tell her to do as I told her, to hell with their hospital rules. I knew I couldn’t do it, though. These people had saved my father’s life and they knew what they were doing. What they weren’t, however, was related to my father. They didn’t know Dad the way I knew him. He was just another patient in another bed for them. It was hitting me hard. Harder than was reasonable, and I knew why; it was because I had seen my mother in the hospital. All those tests, all those hospitalizations when the chemo was too strong. She wilted away like an early rose in spring caught in a deadly frost. I had felt so helpless then and I felt that way now. I had always hated hospitals.
“Dad, they’re bringing in a wet sponge that you can use on the inside of your mouth. It should help a little. They won’t let you have water or ice chips until they know that you’re stable. You couldn’t have anything in you if you had to go back into surgery.”
He was nodding and I knew that he understood, probably better than I did. Maybe that was part of what was getting to me. There he was, helpless in bed, and it was my turn to stand duty and I wasn’t up to it. Dad’s eyes began to flutter closed again and I left his bedside, whispering softly, “I’ll be back, Dad.”
Sean was working on the apartments when I got home. I knew, without asking, what he was doing. Now that the emergency tone of Dad’s situation was over, Sean’s response was to get back to business as usual. That’s how firemen were trained. They could not dwell on one tragedy because another one was just around the corner.
“Sean, I thought I’d go down Dad’s firehouse. I’m sure the guys are wanting to know what’s going on. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before this. They’re trying not to bother me; they probably fear the worst.”
“I think that’s a great idea. Of course, you know I can’t go with you, but I’ll be right here when you get back.”
When I got to Dad’s firehouse, everyone was there. Luckily they were not out on a call. They surrounded me, asking questions about Dad’s condition, and we all sat around the tables in the lunch room as I told them what had happened. I left out any details about Carla; that was Dad’s personal business and certainly not my story to tell. I thanked them all for saving Dad’s life. “If dad had worked anywhere else, he wouldn’t be here today,” I said in a solemn voice and I saw heads bobbing in agreement.
“We look after our own,” one of them said and I nodded my thanks and stood to go. Chet came up to me.
“Gwyne, we know you’ll have your hands full with your dad. If there’s anything we can do, just let us know. The guys and I have already talked about it. When they’re not on duty, they would be more than willing to come by your dad’s house and sit with him, look after him.”
I was about to refuse help when it occurred to me that it was absolutely the perfect solution. Dad was used to having his men around him; having them at the house would be no different. There would be things that dad needed attended to which would be awkward for his daughter to handle. If one of the guys was on hand, it would be much easier on both of us. “You know, Chet, I think I might just take you up on that. Dad will need some help, especially getting him ambulatory. I’m not sure I could handle that on my own and short of hiring a private nurse, having you guys, his family, around would be a great help.”
“Good. Then consider it done.” Chet’s voice made it a finality, and once again I was struck by the brotherhood of firemen.
Chapter 24
Going to the hospital became a daily routine for me. Dad was now finally out of danger and sitting up comfortably in bed. He was scheduled for discharge and I had yet to discuss the home arrangements with him.
In the meantime, Sean’s recuperation had come to an end and he had returned to the fire station. I think that working on the apartments in the lower level had been therapeutic for him. I could tell he was stronger and although it would be a while before he pulled any runs where he might have to carry someone, at least he was well on his way to recovering his former strength. The doctors had examined him and done breathing analyses. He had passed with flying colors and I was proud that he was so strong as to recover so quickly. The ranks at Dad’s fire station were now filled once again. All except for Dad.
I was sitting at Dad’s bedside when the doctors came in. There were three of them and they took his vital signs and examined his healing wounds. One of them was the spokesman for the group.
“We need to talk about discharge and getting you into physical therapy. You’re also going to need some in-home nursing for period of time. Have you and your daughter considered how you’re going to handle this?”
“Put me in a nursing home,” Dad said, a frown on his face.
“No! Dad is not going into a nursing home! I have it all arranged. Just tell us where and when to have him at his first physical therapy appointment. I’m going to take care of him myself, along with a few friends.”
Dad’s face showed surprise. “Gwyne, honey, you can’t do it all. It just wouldn’t be right. You also have a job.”
“Dad, I’m not going to be doing it all alone. Your men are stepping in. They came to me and insisted that whomever is not on duty will be staying at the house with you, seeing to whatever you need that I can’t handle, and between the lot of us, we will get you back and forth to the physical therapy.”
Dad’s mouth was open, as if ready to protest, but then he thought the better of it. “That was pretty thoughtful of them.”
“Yes, it certainly was, and that’s why you’re not going to argue with them. You would do the same for them.”
He nodded in agreement and I knew he would. I looked at the doctor and said, “Tell me when he’ll be discharged and I will be here to transport him home.”
The doctor nodded, appearing to be satisfied. “We’ll discharge at ten tomorrow.” The doctors left and Dad sat back against the pillows with the most peaceful, happy look I had seen on his face in two weeks.
“So what has been going on at the firehouse?” he asked me.
“Dad, you know I don’t really keep track of things. They’ve been a man down, and they’ve covered nicely, but obviously they want their captain back.”
“What do you mean, one man down?”
“I’m pretty sure that Sean is back from medical leave and working. I saw him there.”
Dad was surprised—I could tell by the look on his face. He probably wasn’t prepared for life to go on when he wasn’t there. He said nothing, however, but reached for the remote control and flipped on the television. It just so happened that the news was on and it carried the story of a fire in Dad’s district. His men were on hand and as we watched, the people who were Dad’s family moved in and out of the burning house. I spotted Sean and it took everything I had not to flinch. He had a coiled fire hose over his shoulder and I could see the strain
on his face. I knew him well enough by then to know what that would look like.
The reporter mentioned that firemen had the scene under control and Dad visibly relaxed. I could only imagine how hard it was for him to sit back in a hospital bed and watch the men whom he thought of as sons in danger without him there watching over them. I knew he would be anxious to get back to work soon. I was especially glad that his men were going to be helping me take care of him, as they would certainly keep him in bed as long as he needed to be.
“Well, Dad, I’m going to head to the house now. I need to put in some groceries for you and make sure the sheets are washed. I’ll also take care of the bedding in the two guest rooms.”
“Two guest rooms?” he asked me.
“Yes, one for me and one for the guy who’s going to be staying with you.”
He nodded, thinking it over. “I see you have this all worked out. I’m proud of you, Gwyne. You are a true O’Reilly.”
“Dad, I don’t think you could have paid me a higher compliment than to say that.” I gave him a kiss and a short wave and left.
* * *
Two of the guys from the fire station were on hand the next morning. They had brought the emergency rescue vehicle from the station and loaded him in the back. I could tell Dad was feeling embarrassed by all of this. He wasn’t used to having his men see him be this weak. However, I was glad they were there as I’m not sure I could’ve handled Dad on my own.
Between them, they got Dad into the house and into his bed. I stepped out of the room while they helped him into pajamas and dealt with whatever personal hygiene issues he may have had. When they emerged, I tapped on Dad’s door and came in with a tray. “I thought you might enjoy some home cooking,” I said. I had made a pot of homemade chicken soup and a loaf of his favorite bread. There was cherry cobbler for dessert and a glass of cold milk. “Now, before you get used to this, I want you to know you’re going to eat according to the diet the doctors gave you. Just consider this a welcome home dinner. But from here on out, it goes by the book; agreed?”
Dad nodded. If there was any man alive who understood the phrase “by the book,” it was he.
I had moved some of my clothing and my toiletries to his house for the duration. Sean had stayed behind at the firehouse and I knew that eventually, once his paychecks began coming in again, he would be moving out. We had shared one, last night of lovemaking the night before. We both understood that Dad’s coming home from the hospital would signal the end of our being together. I’m really not sure why we didn’t seem to think that we could still live together, as long as Dad didn’t know about it, but we didn’t. Maybe it was because we weren’t sure that we were together until the end; but more likely it was because we each had separate lives to attend to and right then, combining them by living together just added too much complication.
The house was a Craftsman style, built in the postwar days from a kit out of a catalog. That was not uncommon in this part of the city, an area where men coming home from the war needed housing, and quickly. Even though mom had been gone for some time, you could see her touches still remained. Dad had never taken down the curtains that she had sewn herself. He left the wallpaper where she hung it; the dishes still went into the same places in the cupboards and some of her clothes were still in her side of the closet.
I waited until Dad was home for three days and then I sat down next to his bed one afternoon when the fireman on duty was taking a nap. “Dad, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Oh? What’s that?” He was curious and I could see that he was slowly regaining his strength because he was trying to once again take command.
“I have something I have to admit to you. When I first learned about your heart attack, I thought about the lady you told me you had been seeing. I knew she would be worried when she didn’t hear from you.”
His face screwed up in a disapproving look. “Gwyne, what did you do?”
“I know, I know, Dad. I invaded your privacy. I came here to the house and got into your desk until I found the telephone bill with her number. I went over to her house and introduced myself. I told her what had happened to you. Dad, Carla is a wonderful woman. I like her very, very much. She and I have spent some time together while you were in the hospital. She sat with me while you were in surgery. We didn’t want to tell you about this until you were strong enough to understand why we had to do this.”
“Daughter, do you mind telling me how you got into my desk?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
He shook his head. “You will never change, Gwyne.”
“Well, Dad, the reason I’m bringing this up now is because Carla wants to come and help to take care of you. I know this could prove awkward for you with the guys hanging around, so I think that you should come clean with them.”
“Gwyne, this is really none of your business.”
“Dad, I think they already know you have a girlfriend.”
“What?” he barked, and I could tell by the look on his face that he felt violated. It was hard enough on him to have the men under his command tending to him. For them to know about and actually witness his personal life was beyond his boundaries.
“Like it or not, your men know you very well. They are, after all, like sons to you. I think you should come clean and not worry about what anyone thinks. Carla deserves to spend some time with you, to make sure for herself that you are okay. It would be helpful to me as well.”
He looked out of the bedroom window as though deep in thought. “Get me a telephone and then get out.”
I did as he asked and when I left his room, I was surprised to see Doug, the firefighter on duty, putting on his coat. “My shift is over here, Gwyne,” he said. “They’re sending someone else over to help. See you next time.”
“Thanks for your help, Doug. I don’t know what we would do without you.” I gave him a short wave; he returned it and left.
“Gwyne!” Dad bellowed from his bedroom. I went in to see what he needed. He wasted no words.
“Set an extra place for dinner. Carla is coming.”
I nodded, smiled, and slowly closed the door behind me. Just then, there came a knock at the front door. I knew the next firefighter was there to help and imagined that his timing was fairly good. Dad would need some help dressing. He would want to look especially good for Carla when she arrived.
I opened the door and my mouth dropped open. There stood Sean.
“What are you doing here?” I knew Dad couldn’t see me, and so I reached up and gave him a quick, but hard hug.
“They tell me it’s my shift.” He was grinning and I could see he was enjoying my unease.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?” I asked him, turning away and sitting down on the sofa.
“I really had no choice in the matter, Gwyne,” he said. “If I had refused, they would’ve known something was up.”
I nodded. What he said made total sense. If he had refused to take his shift, the guys would’ve questioned why. Worse than that, so would have Dad. I knew that Dad had been taking the time he spent with each of his firemen as an opportunity to see how things were running at the firehouse. They were certainly earning their keep, reporting back with every single detail. Sean could be no exception.
I took his coat and hung it in the coat closet. I explained to him in a quiet voice that dad had invited Carla for dinner. I was relieved that I’d had the foresight to never let Carla and Sean meet; that would’ve given up the game. “Remember to pretend as though you don’t know who she is.” Sean nodded and headed down the hallway to Dad’s room.
Winter was drawing to a close in New York City. We had made it through the holidays, although I barely remembered them. There were patches of green grass in Central Park. I continued to write, although now I did it from Dad’s house. John Warner had been particularly generous in giving me a pass on coming into the office. He gave me assignments over the telephone—he or Mart
ha, that is. I did my research, wrote my stories, and mailed them in. Life went on.
I went into the kitchen and busied myself making dinner. I had planned a pot roast with potatoes and vegetables. I had been preparing meals that could be easily shared, no matter how many people there were in the house. If there were leftovers, they became dinner for the next day. Since we had a special guest coming that evening, I pulled together the makings for a Waldorf salad and set about making some homemade dinner rolls. I had become a regular Susie homemaker.
Sean stayed in Dad’s room with him, and I could hear the television and what sounded to be a hockey game. He was feeling far spryer now and would begin physical therapy in a couple of days. That would signal the end of his being an invalid and would begin the days of him rejoining the world. The doctors had said he would be in physical therapy for at least six weeks. That meant six weeks before he could return to work. I hoped that Carla would become more than an occasional visitor. Now that I knew Dad was going to be fine, I wanted to get back to my own life. It made me feel selfish to think of it that way, but that’s exactly how it felt.
Carla showed up at the door at roughly five in the afternoon. We hugged and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Should I go in and see him first?” she asked me.
“I think he would be disappointed if you did anything less,” I told her. “Send the firemen out and have your privacy. I’ll call down the hall to you when dinner is ready. If you don’t mind, you could come out and help me carry trays down. I thought we might make a party of it in Dad’s room this evening.”
I saw the frown on her face and it tickled me. “Actually,” I said as an afterthought, “maybe I’ll take advantage of the fact that you are here keeping Dad company and the fireman and I will sit out here and watch television and have our dinner. Would that be okay with you?”
“I think that would be ideal,” she said and winked.
She headed for Dad’s room and soon Sean was coming toward me. I was fairly sure I spotted a sense of relief on his face. “Babysitting not your cup of tea?” I teased him.