An elderly man with silver hair enters the room. “Hi there, Simon,” he says as they shake hands.
“Dr. Butterfield, this is Tessa Talman.”
“Excuse me,” she says, turning around to swipe the tears from her face with the back of her hands. She clears her throat, straightens up her blouse and faces both men with an outreached arm. “Hi, doctor, nice to meet you.”
Simon is amazed at the transformation. What luck! To be loved by this incredible woman.
“Talman. The esteemed Richard Talman?” Dr. Butterfield tilts his head and stares at her. “I should have known. You’re his daughter and Jacob was your brother.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I am honored to meet you. Your father was a pioneer, an innovator in the field of medicine. And your brother, I was blessed to have him as a student.”
She turns to Simon and smiles. He squeezes her hand, filled with pride. “Thank you, doctor.”
A brief second of silence follows. And then Dr. Butterfield sets his clasped hands on the table in front of him. He crosses his eyes, looking stern and tough, the lines on his face more pronounced. “Simon, where’s your portable oxygen?”
“I…” Simon looks down at the floor, like a child being chastised.
“And you took a flight to Paris against doctor’s orders. Do you know what the air pressure could have done to you and your heart? You took a big risk, young man.”
Simon sees the look of surprise on Tessa’s face. “It’s that bad?” Tessa asks.
“Simon has early stages of Pulmonary Hypertension. His heart and lungs are working extra hard to keep pumping oxygen into his body. There’s no cure for this disease. Unfortunately, he has to live with it and make significant changes in his lifestyle.”
Simon remains quiet. He knows Tessa will step in.
And she does. “Such as?”
“Well, he’s had a heart attack. Heart failure is inevitable. But with proper management, there’s no telling how long we can keep it at bay. He can no longer do any strenuous exercises, so climbing mountains”—he pauses and looks at Simon—”is out of the question. He’s currently a Class II, which means he has started experiencing symptoms—shortness of breath, chest pain, fatigue—with normal activity. He’s always been a healthy guy, so this is by no means a death sentence.”
Tessa’s chest twinges with pain at the mention of that word. She rapidly composes herself. There’s no room for weakness at this point. She needs to take care of him. He is her heart. “Is this why you moved here? To Minnesota?” she asks Simon.
“Yes. I’d been having check-ups so often, it was getting difficult for me to fly back and forth.”
“Airplanes, airports, public places that can weaken his immunity are a no-no,” Dr. Butterfield stresses. “Regular exercise, which I know he has no problem with, oxygen therapy and medication will be his maintenance regimen. What Simon wants me to make clear to you, however, is that there is no cure for this. Some people die in two years, others live for more.”
Tessa pushes the bile that has risen in her throat back down where it belongs. I just found him. “Nothing you’ve told me, nothing I will ever find out about this disease, will make me change my mind. I am committed to Simon, to our family, to our life together. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be moving here as soon as I can. In a few days at the most. I just have to leave to pick up our daughter.”
“Congratulations, Simon!” Dr. Butterfield exclaims.
Simon says nothing. He wants her to have the time to absorb this information. There is time to change her mind. She doesn’t know what it’s like to take care of a sick man.
“Is there anything else I can help you with? Any questions I can answer?” Dr. Butterfield asks.
Tessa shakes her head. “No, not for now, I don’t think so. Thank you for the time you took to meet with us today.”
Simon looks at the doctor and mutters. “Sex.”
“What is it, Simon?” the doctor asks.
“You forgot to explain about the sex,” Simon says, turning beet red.
“Oh yes,” he says in agreement. “Tessa, Simon wanted me to make sure I explained things to you. You have no need to worry, no need to cut down on sexual activity. If it doesn’t cause him to have shortness of breath or chest pains, then he should be fine. I always tell my patients to just remember to take it slow and to listen to their body. And PPH doesn’t limit his ability to father another child, although his medication may reduce sperm count. Oh, and the head is never good below the heart. Just keep it in mind when you guys choose your positions.”
“That’s my guy,” Tessa squeaks, trying with all her might to stop the tears from cascading down her face. “Priorities.”
It’s chaos back in Chicago. Tessa can’t bear to be away from Simon for more than a few days. She hires the big guns to accomplish the world’s fastest move. There are packing boxes everywhere, workers and movers are in every part of her home.
“Honey, are we marking the boxes correctly? The blue ones are for storage and the white ones go to St. Paul,” Riley shouts from the kitchen at Liam, who’s busy figuring the cable wires out.
“Yup.”
Ciela sits next to him on the floor, playing with her new Les Coquettes rag dolls, a gift from her father, along with many other toys from Paris. She’s busy trying to push Manon, the baby boy, toward Liam.
“What, baby?” Liam asks.
“Bed!” Ciela answers.
“Okay, you want me to put him to bed. Let’s do this.” He places the doll on the wooden bed and pulls the blanket over him. Simon had gone overboard. A dollhouse.
“Hey, hey!” Tessa walks into the living room, scoops Ciela into her arms and showers her with kisses. “Where’s Auntie Rye?”
“Hello! How was it?” Riley saunters in and sits down on the couch. Tessa follows suit.
“It was good. I listed the house and also called the manager of Jake’s condo to let him know the boxes will be stored there for now. Until we know where we’re going to be. How many did we end up with?”
“Six boxes to St. Paul. The rest will stay until you let us know,” Riley answered.
“Sweet.”
“How is Will?”
“Great, I think. He’s dating someone from his office.” Tessa smiles.
Liam takes a seat next to the women. Riley leans over to give him a kiss. Ciela pulls on his hand and motions for him to take her to the kitchen. “Dwink.”
Riley stands. “Oh, I’ll get it, Ciely. Let’s go.”
“No!” Ciela squeaks, pointing at Liam.
The two leave for the kitchen while Tessa takes Riley in her arms. “I’ll miss you, Rye. We should probably be getting ready. We leave for O’Hare in an hour.”
Riley nods. “Tess, thank you for everything. You didn’t have to do that. And all the paintings you gave us—they’re worth so much!”
“Jake would have wanted you to have that money. He was saving that for you. I’m glad the trust was able to change it to your name before I left.”
“It’s a million dollars.”
“Keep him in your heart. In your memories. Tell your children about him someday. About how wonderful your life was with him. Give them a taste of that with this money. As for the paintings, I’ll have many more after these books are written.”
Liam is back. This time, Ciela has a bottle in her mouth. Her eyelids are heavy; she’s trying to keep them open. Tessa gently lays her on the couch and kisses each eyelid closed. “Okay, baby, stay here and drink your bottle while Mommy gets our things together, okay? We’re going to be seeing Daddy today!”
The three friends stand together, arms locked around each other.
“Thank you, Liam. For taking care of my friend,” Tessa whispers. “And for taking care of my child as if she were your own.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” Liam says. “We’ll see you soon, okay? The Uber’s here. I’m going to start
loading the car.” He leaves the two women alone.
“As always, there are no words,” Riley says. “And I’m crying because I’ll miss you. But I’m happy for you, Tess. You deserve this. I’ll see you in two weeks, okay? We’ll come visit when you’re settled.”
“I love you, Rye. And congratulations again on your pregnancy. Take it easy, okay? Try to get as much rest as possible. I can’t wait to spoil another little Riley.”
“I will. I love you too.”
Tessa walks over to Ciela and carries her sleeping daughter in her arms. The two friends walk out the front door. Tessa turns to her with an afterthought.
“You’re my home too, Riley.”
“Thank you,” Tessa tells the driver as he unlocks the door to Simon’s apartment and deposits their luggage near the front entrance. Somehow, Simon had neglected to tell her he occupied the two-story penthouse atop the Lowry building in downtown St. Paul. Opulent isn’t quite the word she thinks of to describe this place, but it sure is close to it. She sets Ciel down on the floor and remains holding her hand.
“Now to find Daddy,” she says as they both walk slowly across the checkered black and white Italian marble floor leading from the passageway to the living area. The transition to aged wood floors makes their footsteps a little louder. For sure, he would hear them. She can’t contain her excitement. “Okay, Ciely. Let’s practice. What are you going to call your daddy?”
“Wiw?” Ciela says with a big smile. Smart girl, already getting her father’s wisecracking abilities at such a young age.
“Yes of course, sweetie. He will always be your Uncle Will. But you have a daddy.”
“Dada.”
“Perfect.” They walk around some more. Here’s the kitchen. Wood floors, white marble counter tops.
On the far right, by the large vase of fresh flowers stands a flask of Cristal, two glasses, and a cup of apple juice.
Tessa skims her finger along the side of the bottle, raises her eyes toward the sky and gives thanks.
Oh, and this must be the family room. Need to do something about those sharp stone fixtures. And these stairs? Ciel can crack her head open on one of these. And the railing? Metal and wood, very chic. Very unsafe. Lots of childproofing to do here. Where is the bedroom?
“Simon?” Tessa calls out to him. “We’re here!”
The atmosphere changes significantly. What started out as a warm and cozy feeling upon entering the home has turned into an eerie stillness. It’s peculiarly quiet. She wonders whether he’s left to go to the store to pick up some things. He had called her every fifteen minutes at the airport. He spoke to Ciela as they boarded the plane and he called again as they landed. Where can he be?
Tessa leads Ciela back into the front room. She didn’t feel right about checking his things out in his absence. He’ll be here soon. She’s sure he’s left to get some last-minute items, maybe take a walk around the block to calm his excitement.
“Let’s sit here for a while, baby,” she rests on the white suede couch with chrome borders and legs. This won’t work, she thinks. Too many potential dangers. Although Simon did mention converting a part of the second floor into a suite and play area for their baby.
More time passes and before she knows it, Ciel has toys spread all over the floor. The door swings open just as Tessa decides to call the doorman downstairs.
“Hi!” Tessa begins to run toward him. She stops momentarily to grab Ciel’s hand. “Come, Ciela, let’s go to Daddy!”
Something is off. His face is ghastly—white as a sheet.
“Dada?”
Simon stands motionless, a slight smile crosses his lips.
He sways back and forth.
And his eyes roll back.
He clutches his chest and falls to the ground.
“Simon! Simon!” Tessa runs to him. “Oh God, please help us! Simon!” she screams at the top of her lungs.
What feels like an eternity is really only fifteen minutes. That’s how long it takes for the ambulance to arrive at the penthouse. By dusk, Riley and Liam are at the hospital to take Ciela to the Marriott across the street. Tessa sits in a metal chair next to his bed, her hand gripping his, eyes closed, her forehead resting on his arm. The sounds made by the machines are deafening. They’re shrill and thin and sharp. Every second, something goes off. The numbers on the monitor change continuously and she has no clue what they mean. She wants to pray but she doesn’t know how. She tries to talk to Jacob. To her parents. But she finds no process, no cohesion in her thoughts. There’s discordance and anger and confusion. But since she doesn’t believe in anything, she doesn’t even know who’s to blame.
She looks up just as someone enters the room.
“Tessa,” the kind old gentleman says.
“Hi, Doctor B.”
“Would you like to step outside so we can talk?”
She follows him out the door. They stand to the side; her arms are crossed tight and he’s pulling out the green shower cap on his head. At least that’s what it looks like. He’s still wearing those same green shower caps on his feet.
“That was quite a scare, wasn’t it?” he starts out.
Nodding has been her favorite thing to do lately.
“Well, at first I was worried about his liver. I thought maybe it would be inflamed. That’s one of the effects of the extra effort the heart needs to make to produce oxygen. But his liver is fine. What I think happened, and we won’t find out until he wakes up, is that he exercised too much. That boy overestimates his fitness. He needs to slow down.”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “So, he’ll be okay?”
“You need to make sure he slows down, Tessa. Yes, he’s okay now. But lifestyle changes really have to be made. These are warning signs. Remember, it’s a progressive disease. I’ve given him a sedative and we’ll keep him on oxygen while he sleeps. He can be discharged when he wakes up.”
“Oh, Dr. B!” She runs into his arms.
She catches him by surprise. He stiffly pats her head. Once. Twice. “The medical van will take two oxygen tanks over to your home. He will need to use it every night when he sleeps.”
“For good?”
“For good.”
“Dr. B, I’ll defer to Simon’s decision at the end of the day, but I’m going to suggest to him that we move back to London to be close to his family.” She’d been thinking about it all afternoon.
“What about yours?” he asks. His glasses slide down to the tip of his nose and he pushes it up with his finger. “Won’t they object to that?” As soon as he utters those words, he catches himself. “Oh Lord. I’m sorry. I’d forgotten your situation.”
“He’s all I have,” she answers.
“Well, I have a wonderful colleague at St. Thomas Hospital who will gladly take his case. Simon has a great reputation back home in the field of scientific medicine. He has done so much for the community, I’m sure they will be happy to take good care of him.”
“Thank you, Doctor B,” she says, smiling. She sees bits and pieces of her father in him. When she was growing up, everyone she met, people in the street, in the stores, would tell her what a kind and generous man her father was. He held free clinics on the south side of Chicago, in the projects every weekend. They loved him. She could tell that Dr. B was that kind of a man.
When she reenters the room, he’s still unconscious. She sits on the side of his bed, her legs dangling to the side, hands on either side of his body. The oxygen mask has shifted slightly. She leans over and gently repositions it on his face. Lovingly, she touches his forehead, his eyebrows, his eyelids. She follows each touch with a kiss. And then she allows her lips to linger on his cheek. “Mom, Dad. Jake,” she whispers. “If you can hear me now, please give us the gift of a few years. Give me a chance to fill his heart with so much love, it will transcend time and space and everything we’ve missed. Make him stay long enough to see what a beautiful, strong and intelligent da
ughter we have made. This is the love you’ve always wanted for me. This is it, I finally have it. And I’m begging you to intercede with the heavens for me.”
With those words, she wraps her arms and legs around him, closes her eyes and falls asleep.
They are dancing. She’s laughing in his arms as he sweeps her across the floor, his bright blue eyes glimmering with delight.
“I still can’t believe I made it all the way to this day!” he says happily, while mouthing the words to their favorite song.
She glances around the room, curious to see where they are and who is with them. A striking young woman with long brown hair and bright blue eyes, walks toward them on the arm of a handsome young man. She realizes it’s Ciela; they are at their daughter’s wedding.
Tessa’s overpowering joy makes her cry. Simon reaches out to console her, his touch light at first, right before she hears his voice.
“Don’t cry.”
She lifts her head as she opens her eyes. He’s awake! He’s pushed the mask away from his mouth so he could speak.
She springs upward and turns to him. “Oh, Simon!” she fixes the mask on his face, keeps it on his nose only enough to expose his lips so she could kiss him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse and weak.
“No, no. Don’t be. I’m here now. I’m here, you’ll be okay.”
“No,” he says turning red. “I’m really sorry. It was such a stupid thing for me to do.”
“What? What did you do?”
“The elevator was taking forever, and I knew you were waiting at the apartment. So, I walked the ten flights of stairs.”
“You what?” She gasped. “Oh, baby. We really need to make some changes, okay? I know you want to do all the things you’re used to doing, but you must stay well. For me. For Ciela. For our family.” She leans in and brushes her lips against his ear. “For our sex life.”
He lets out a squeak. He’s still too weak to laugh. “Sold.”
Eight Goodbyes Page 26