Selling the Drama

by Theresa Smith

  "Your kids are not coping."

  Charlotte looked up at him, that statement, delivered with all the bluntness she had come to expect from Chad, hitting her where it hurt. "What? Ellie and Jake said they're all fine. Mum said they've hardly even noticed we're not there with everyone else around."

  "They're lying to you so you won't feel bad." Chad seated himself down beside her, casting her a sympathetic glance accompanied with a shrug of his shoulders. "You really believed that bullshit?"

  She slumped then, her head resting against the side of his shoulder. He slung his arm around her loosely and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. "I wanted to believe it."

  Chad made no response, so Charlotte got to her feet, crossing over to Toby who was still sleeping, although he was very restless, giving her reason to believe the pain was becoming too much for him again and that he would soon wake. She pressed the pain reliever button once more before turning back to face Chad, crossing over to the side bench to gather up her purse and phone. "You'll text me?" she asked him pointedly.

  "Sure will. Every hour. And if something bad happens, I'll actually ring you."

  She rolled her eyes at him. "Thanks for the reassurance."

  "No worries," he replied, completely oblivious to her sarcasm. "I'll set an alarm in my phone so I don't forget." He pulled it out and started to tap away at the screen.

  Charlotte stared at him for a moment, completely convinced this was a bad idea. "Make sure you put what you need to remember in that alarm. Otherwise you won't know why it's going off in your pocket."

  Now it was Chad's turn to roll his eyes. "Duh. I am well practiced at setting myself alarms, Charlotte. It's how I get through most of my days. Now go. You're wasting time. And don't come back before five, at least."

  Casting one more glance at Toby, Charlotte turned on her heel and left the hospital room, exiting the ward for the first time in nine days.

  Toby opened his eyes, settling his gaze onto Chad. "Well played."

  Chad shrugged, casting him a lopsided grin. "I had a feeling you weren't asleep. I could see your eyelids flickering."

  "The kids are okay though, aren't they? You just made that up, didn't you?" As his own mind cleared and the periods he was awake lengthened, Toby thought more and more about the kids and how they were faring without Charlotte. They were all so used to having her at their beck and call twenty four hours a day. Not him so much as her.

  "No. Ashley is very worried and Bree keeps asking if you're dead. Courtney won't stop crying and has taken to sleeping with Ashley. Danielle hates that bottle. Barely eats. Cries all the time. It's pretty fucking grim. Much quieter here." Chad's honesty was as usual unfailing.

  Toby closed his eyes briefly, cursing under his breath. "Thanks then, for making her go home for a while."

  "I didn't do it for the kids. I did it for you."

  "What do you mean?"

  Chad sauntered over to the side of the bed, draping his arms casually over the bed rail. He looked down at Toby for a few moments before responding, his expression neutral. "It's hard, to have people around you all the time. You have to hold it together constantly, when all you want to do is sink down and switch off. But they love you and you love them and it's completely impossible to tell them that you just want a couple of hours to yourself, where you don't have to pretend anymore, where you can lie there and think about what's happened to you without being asked what you're thinking about every time you're quiet. I figure that whatever you say or don't say to me while I'm here won't matter either way; I'm probably going to forget it by tomorrow."

  Toby chuckled at that, wincing as the movement caught his ribs. "And if I say nothing to you all day?"

  "Suits me. I don't really want to listen to your whiny bullshit anyway."

  Toby laughed again as Chad joined him, the pain of laughing well worth the feeling of liberation it created within. Toby could not think of anyone other than Chad he would prefer to have beside his bed right now. Chad may not be as close to him as Jake, but Toby thought that this might be one of the reasons why he would be able to stand it. Having Jake here would necessitate the type of performance Chad had just outlined, the type of performance Toby had to a certain degree been effecting for Charlotte. There was an instinctive need, that no matter how bad he felt, to at least try and make those around him feel less bad, and it was tiring. Exhausting. He could press his own pain medication button. He could sit up now and reach things that were left close by. What he was unable to do, the nurses could assist him with; it was what they were paid to do. Lying there, feigning sleep while listening to Chad railroad Charlotte into going home for a while, had been like a blessing. She needed a break. And as much as he loved her, completely adored her and worshipped the very ground she walked on, so did he.

  "Seriously though, I've been where you are. And there are some things I haven't forgotten." Chad looked at him seriously then, his sympathy very real and very meaningful, and Toby was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards him, for his thoughtfulness, and his intuition.

  "Although, I figured I might have been in the opposite place to you. Like, at the start, when I first woke up, lying there, in pain, waiting to recover, I still had hope. That I would get better. That my brain would heal and I would go back to uni and become an engineer and that the whole episode would just become a blip on my past. But of course, I was dreaming. None of that was going to happen. My life, the way I knew it, was over. Everyone knew that, it was only me that had to catch up and get with the program. But for you, things are pretty shit now, and your recovery will take longer than mine, but you're going to get better. In a couple of weeks, they'll come in here, strap a new leg onto you, get you up on your feet, take that cast off your arm, un-tape your ribs, tell you take multi vitamins because you don't have a spleen anymore, and that'll be it. You'll get better. You'll go back to your life. Eventually, this will become a blip on your past." Chad pulled up a chair and sat down on it backwards, his arms hanging over the back. "You're a lucky son of a bitch."

  Toby stared at him. "I've always hated that term. Lucky. I've been lucky before. It's a backhanded concept. I was lucky my father didn't kill me. But did that make me lucky in life? What the hell is luck anyway? It's bullshit. But I get where you're coming from. And I mean no offense when I say this, but I am so fucking relieved that I am not going to have to go through what you did."

  The longer Toby knew Chad, the more he saw of the limitations Chad was forced to endure within his daily existence. Chad was, in Toby's opinion, a much better person than what he gave himself credit for. He didn't know where Chad had managed to come by this affability and acceptance, but he had it in spades and Toby admired him greatly for it, even though the condition his friend suffered terrified him more than the concept of having no leg. Toby's very definition of himself hinged on his career, and he could not have his career if he did not have full command of his mind. He could however, have his career with only one leg.

  "Knowing you makes me feel a whole lot better about the shitty state I'm finding myself in right now," Toby remarked, with a wry grin. Being around Chad for any length of time usually brought out the honesty in him. He knew Chad would not take offense at this.

  "Glad to help in any way I can," he replied with a shade of sarcasm. Then, without waiting a beat, Chad changed the subject entirely. "I'm going to be a father."

  Toby grinned widely, surprise mingling with joy at this piece of news. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah." Chad grinned back at him. "In about seven months. We're going to move up here. So Jenna can be around family who can give us a hand." Chad paused, the grin leaving his face. "There's a limit to what I'll be able to do. On my own with a baby. A child will be different, as they get older, I can tell them what to expect and they'll know what to do if I need help, but when they're still tiny and dependent on me, it's not safe."

  There wasn't much Toby could think of to say about that. It was true. But it was also very
sad. He loved those moments when it was just him and one of their babies together. A moment that he would never have thought twice about partaking in, yet for Chad, those moments would be wrought with stress and anxiety, probably compounding the problem and increasing the likelihood of something going wrong. "I think you will be a fantastic father," Toby said instead, sincere in his compliment.

  "I think I will try and be a fantastic father, but I'm shit scared I'm going to end up being the worst kind of father that could ever happen to a kid."

  Toby stared at Chad for a long moment. "Take it from me, I know what the worse kind of father to happen to a kid is, and it's not ever going to be you."

  Chad was right. The kids were not coping. All four of them fell on her the minute Charlotte walked through the door. She figured the best thing would be to just go along with it, so she collapsed onto the couch, Ashley tucked into one side of her, Bree pressed into the other, Courtney curled across her knees with her little thumb wedged into her mouth, and Danielle snuffling at her chest looking for relief from the bottle she so clearly seemed to resent. Lying with all of her children surrounding her, Charlotte put her head back against the couch and closed her eyes, falling asleep within minutes.

  Jake took Ashley fishing in the late afternoon. It was something he had been promised, and not even the lure of having his mother home was enough to sway him from going. Ashley loved to fish, and his enthusiasm for the activity was one of the things that gave her further reason to resent her father's removal of himself from their lives. Royce had been a keen fisherman and Charlotte, in her more melancholic moments, could well picture the two of them sharing in the experience. Giving his little body a big squeeze, Charlotte kissed Ashley goodbye with promises of tucking him in that night before she returned to the hospital.

  "Catch lots of fish!" she called out as they got into Jake's Ute.

  Jake beamed at her, leaning out the window. "He's fishing with me. There's always lots of fish," he bragged.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes at that and waved them off. Turning on her heel, she searched for Bree, finding her dolling herself up in her bedroom, adjusting a tiara with a bejewelled hand. "You look very snazzy, Bree. What's the occasion?" she asked, leaning against the doorway. Courtney was spread sideways over her bed, fast asleep, still at that age where she could sleep for a couple of hours each day without it affecting her bedtime.

  Bree whirled around, a determined look on her face. "I want to see Daddy!"

  Everything Bree said was delivered as a demand. Charlotte shook her head. "Ashley is gone and the other girls are asleep. It's not a good time."

  "That's what makes it the perfect time! Let's go!" Bree dashed out into the hall, her head held high, her little arms swinging either side of her.

  "Bree," Charlotte called after her. "I don't think it's a good idea." She watched as Bree paused in the hallway, her little back straight, determination fixed upon her. Preparing for a tantrum, Charlotte waited, watching her daughter, bracing herself. But then Bree's shoulders began to shake, and the little girl dropped to her knees, sobs emanating out of her that were anything but dramatic. They were heartbreaking and Charlotte raced to scoop her up, the sight of her eldest daughter - the one who was by far the toughest, falling apart like this, enough to bring her to tears also.

  "Honey, what's the matter?" she asked, knowing though that there were probably so many things wrong that Bree would have difficulty articulating them all. The stress this little girl had been under was enormous.

  "You said Daddy wasn't dead!" she wailed. "But you won't let me see him so he must be!" Her sobs were now so heavy they were accompanied by hiccups.

  Charlotte felt winded by Bree's distress. "He's not dead. I promise." Making a snap decision, even though she was pretty sure Toby might not want Bree to see him in the hospital right now, she looked into Bree's tear-filled eyes, brown pools that were a mirror of her own. "Let's go and surprise Daddy with a special visit just from you."

  Bree's face lit up instantly, her body squirming to get down out of Charlotte's arms. "Just wait a tic Mummy while I go and fix my face!" She scrambled back up the hall to the bathroom, intent on looking her very best for her beloved daddy.

  Charlotte watched her go with a mixed feeling of pride and dread. There was a very real likelihood of Toby not being all too pleased about this. He still looked bad; his injuries still all encompassing. There would be no hiding the extent of them from Bree. Charlotte decided not to forewarn him. Things were not working this way. They could not just wait until he was better before letting the kids see him. They deserved more than that and the stress of being held back was clearly becoming too much for them. Bree had been told countless times that her father was still alive, but for her, seeing would really be the only way of believing. Charlotte expected this might be the case for the others also.

  Bree dashed back out of the bathroom, her face washed clean of all tears now. The tiara sat proudly on top of her long dark brown hair. She was wearing a tutu skirt with a Barbie t-shirt, a pair of butterfly wings, her best sandals, and a plastic ring on each finger. Twirling for her mother, Bree held out the sides of her skirt. "Do you think Daddy will like how I look?"

  Charlotte smiled at her proudly. "Yes I do. I think Daddy will be speechless."

  Bree flew into the room like a bullet coming at Toby with full force, Chad scooping her up before she hit the bed. "Whoa, wait up a minute little miss." He held her firmly, her body squirming in protest at having been stopped in her tracks before she reached her destination.

  Toby looked over at Charlotte, meeting her eyes, a silent question and answer passing between them.

  Why?

  Because it's Bree.

  Chad was talking to Bree, or rather, talking over the top of her high pitched protests at being contained. "You need to listen to me, or I won't let you go," he was saying, a calming tone to his voice. "Look at Daddy carefully and take note of where he looks hurt. You can't bounce on him. If you sit up with him, you have to be gentle and stay beside him, not on top of him. You have to pretend that Daddy's made of glass."

  Bree looked down at Toby solemnly, her eyes raking him from head to toe and right back up again. Turning her gaze back to Chad, she nodded. "Got it! Now put me down on the bed gently!"

  Chad looked down at Toby, who nodded in agreement. "Hey there, Bumble Bree," Toby said, patting the bed beside him. "Come here and give me a cuddle."

  Bree sat up on her knees beside Toby, leaning over to put both of her hands either side of his face. She moved her fingers over the stubble on his cheeks, giggling. "You're all scratchy!"

  "I haven't shaved." He watched her face, so tiny and cute, her hands still moving over his cheeks. "Have you been a good girl for Grandma?"

  Bree nodded, her face turning serious. "I thought you were dead!"

  Toby felt his breath catch, a corresponding pain in his chest, and he reached out to her, pulling her down into his good side, his arm trapping her against his body. "I'm really sorry you thought that Bumble. I'm here though, and hopefully I can come home in a few weeks." He had no idea if he was going to be able to come home in a few weeks or a few months, but it seemed important to try and soothe her with a timeline, albeit however evasive it was.

  "Daddy!" She twisted to look up at him. "Where's your leg gone? There's only half of it there!"

  Toby smiled thinly down at her. "It got badly hurt, so the doctor cut it off here in the hospital so I could get better. They're going to give me a new one. A mechanical one, so I'll still be able to walk around like I used to."

  Bree looked down at the stump for a few moments, considering his response. Then she looked back up at him, her eyes wide. "Like a robot leg? Cool!"

  Toby cracked a grin at her. "Yeah, I guess so. Where's your brother?" He did not think Ashley was going to be all that pleased when he found out Bree had been allowed to visit without him.

  She rolled her eyes. "Fishing with Jake!"

  Toby nodded, gl
ancing over at Charlotte, who seemed to read his mind, saying immediately, "I'll bring him in this evening when he gets back from fishing."

  Toby nodded at that, returning his attention back to Bree. His mini Charlotte. She was snuggled down into his side, her body warm against his, her long hair smelling like flowers. "You look very pretty today," he remarked, knowing she would have been waiting for him to notice her finery. "I love that crown."

  "It's a tiara, Daddy! But thank you!" She rose up onto her knees again, her hands coming to rest either side of his face once more. She leant as close as she knew was just right, and then fluttered her eyelashes across one side of his cheek, over his nose, and then across his cheek on the other side of his face. Toby swallowed deeply, hooking her around the waist so that he could pull her tightly against him. He buried his face into her hair, closing his eyes, willing away the tears before she had a chance to see them. It was one thing to cry in front of Charlotte. But to Bree, he was a hero; and heroes did not cry.

  As a parent, rejoicing in first steps is part and parcel of bringing up children. There is never the expectation, as the parent, to have your children rejoicing when you take your own first steps. Two months after the accident, Toby walked from one side of the physiotherapy room to the other on his new leg, completely unaided by crutches or railings. Gripped with pain, and still weak beyond belief, it was a triumph like no other. The deal he had made with his doctor was that the day he could walk that distance unaided would be the day he was allowed to go home.

  So now, by the looks of it, he was going home. He turned to face his doctor, a man he had begrudgingly come to like over the last two months, and was no longer intent on suing. Grinning at him widely, he called out: "I told you I wouldn't take three months."

  "I never thought you would," he replied. "I just threw that out there to piss you off." Looking over at Charlotte, he smiled warmly. "Congratulations. You can have him back now."