Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  Nicholas spotted her as the taxi pulled to the curb, a tall, lean woman with dark hair, hunched into her coat and scanning each car that arrived. The look of relief on her face when she spotted Nicholas made his chest ache. He had missed her, and it had been mid-September the last time he’d seen her.

  “Nicholas,” she said quietly, pulling him into a tight hug before handing the cabbie a bill at which he took a double take before smiling at Nick with a politeness that hadn’t touched his face since the airport.

  Waving him off, Nicholas wrapped his arm around his mom’s waist and guided her back into the hospital. She leaned into him, and he realized that this was the closest they’d been physically since he was a little kid. Now, though, Nicholas was used to Jena and their friends and their easy physicality, and he didn’t want to go back to polite distance again. He pulled his mom closer, and she released a shuddering sigh before relaxing and putting her arm around him.

  Shock muted Nicholas when they entered William’s room. Dr. Cooper’s tall frame looked like it had shrunk, the bones in his face sharply defined as his head rested on the pillow. He slept uneasily, expressions flitting across his face as his head turned from one side to another.

  “Mom?” Nick asked as he walked to the bed.

  She took her place at the other side, folding her husband’s hand in both of hers, being careful of the needle in the big vein on the back of his hand. “Stroke, Nicholas. We’ve been through this before, right?” She tried on a smile, failing miserably as she eased William’s white-blond hair back from his forehead. Dr. Cooper’s face relaxed as his head leaned into her hand, and he settled more deeply into sleep. William looked much worse than he had after his first episode, years before.

  “Mom, do they have any idea what happened? Did Dad have high blood pressure, or diabetes, or hardening of the arteries?” Nicholas mentioned the most common risk factors as they ran swiftly through his head, ashamed to acknowledge that he knew almost nothing about his father’s health.

  She shook her head slowly. “They did about a million tests yesterday. The doctor wanted to go over some of the results a couple of hours ago, but I asked if he’d wait until you got here.”

  Nicholas spotted a typical uncomfortable hospital chair off to the side of the bed and pulled it over to his mother, urging her to sit down with his hands on her shoulders. Laura glanced around, startled, and then smiled gratefully as she sank down to sit. She put one hand over Nick’s before he could move it, tightening her fingers over his.

  The door opened and William’s doctor entered the room along with William’s friend, Mark Arroyo. Mark perched on the arm of Laura’s chair, speaking to her softly as he rubbed her shoulder. Remembering the role he’d played in the fiasco at the Stevie’s, it was hard work not to scowl at him, but Nicholas could see that he was a close friend by his easy familiarity with Laura and his concerned eyes that rarely left her husband.

  “Nicholas,” he said, rising to his feet and extending his hand. Nick briefly shook Arroyo’s hand. “It’s been a long time, son. I’m sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances.” He glanced at the other doctor, face grim, and then introduced him. “Nicholas, this is Alex Masters, your father’s physician and the best brain man we have. Alex, Will’s son, Nicholas.”

  Dr. Masters stepped forward, shaking Nick’s hand. “Okay, Nicholas, now that you’re here, I’d like to give you the results of the tests we’ve done so far. You may or may not know that there can be several reasons for a person to have a stroke—”

  Mark cut him off. “You can skip the baby steps. Nicholas is studying to be a doctor. Third-year med student with a couple of years as a paramedic under his belt.” He smiled at Nick, and Dr. Masters looked relieved.

  The subsequent give-and-take of diagnosis, options, and prognosis spun in Nick’s brain, challenging his education. Hearing that the standard procedures held significant risks and a high chance of failure made him ache for his parents, and especially for his mother, who clung to the option of surgery as if her own life depended upon it.

  Dr. Masters quickly glanced at Mark before focusing on Laura. “Laura…it’s a remote possibility. It will have to be up to you and Nicholas, ultimately, if Will doesn’t wake up soon, but you know we’ve talked about this before, and Will was very against the procedure.”

  Nicholas’s head stopped spinning all at once, as the phrase “talked about this before” slammed into his brain. “Wait! What…? Mom, you guys knew this could happen?” He leaned against the wall, his knees feeling unhinged.

  The men exchanged glances again as Laura stared at her son dumbly, and then they both rose to leave. “We’ll leave you now, to make your decision,” Dr. Masters said, walking toward the door.

  “Wait,” she said, and both doctors turned around. “How long do we have to decide? I’d like for Will to be involved.”

  Mark crossed back over to her and crouched at her side. “Laura, honey, if you decide to try the surgery, the sooner the better. Another burst could be enough to…well, we want to give him the best chance possible.”

  She nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “I want to give him a while to wake up, okay? I’ll let you know in a little while.”

  “Laura—”

  “Later,” she snapped back fiercely.

  The doctors looked at each other and then at Nicholas, leaving the room quietly.

  He pushed himself away from the wall and walked slowly toward his mother, standing behind her with his hands gripping the back of her chair. “Mom?”

  “Your dad’s been having terrible headaches for a while,” she murmured, going back to stroking his dad’s hair. “I tried to get him to go to the doctor, but you know how hard it is to get him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.” They both chuckled. “Last week they got bad enough that his vision doubled in surgery, and he went to Alex, on Mark’s recommendation. Tests, of course.” She waved her free hand vaguely. “They found a bundle of weak vessels and tried to talk him into having the surgery right then, but…”

  “But what?” Nicholas asked angrily. “It seems pretty fucking cut and dried to me. He doesn’t have much of a chance if he doesn’t have the surgery.” His mother flinched as if he’d slapped her, and Nick cursed himself for lashing out again.

  “There are no guarantees, Nicholas,” Laura said quietly. “Your dad explained that they could get in there and find that there are too many weak vessels to fix. He could have a bleed during surgery and die on the table. He could lose function in his brain…He fears that most of all.” She sighed. “The fact that he’s had another stroke, even with all of the precautions he’s taken over the years, isn’t a good sign.”

  “And no one was going to tell me?” Nicholas nearly shouted.

  His mother looked around coolly. “Would it have mattered?”

  “Fucking yes, it would have mattered!” Nicholas walked around the bed so he could see her face. “I would have…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

  “You would have come home because he was sick, right? Because you had to? Well, your dad didn’t want that. He wanted you to want to come home; he didn’t want your pity. He wanted to make up for September. I tried to get you to come home for Thanksgiving so we could talk, but you wouldn’t come. So your dad tried, too.” Her eyes were snapping with anger. “You have no idea how hard that was for him, Nicholas, especially when you hung up on him after you said you were engaged.”

  “It’s not official,” Nick mumbled, not wanting to reveal that it was doubtful Jena would be with him again. Saying it out loud would make it more real.

  “She seemed like a nice girl when I talked to her this morning, Nicholas.” Laura smiled up at him. “She must love you very much to brave calling people you’re convinced hate her.”

  Nick’s legs didn’t want to support him anymore, so he crouched next to the bed, resting his forehead against the blanket. “Jena called you? When? How did she sound?”

 
“I talked to her right before I walked out to meet you. She sounded very caring and sweet. Do you love her back?”

  “God, yes,” Nick murmured, still looking down. “Mom…what happened in September? Why did dad have Mark—”

  “Will didn’t have Mark do anything,” his mother shot back, “which you’d know if you ever bothered to ask him instead of screaming at him. Your dad told his old friend that he was worried that you were getting distracted from your studies, and that you didn’t have time for a relationship. That he was afraid that both you and Jena were going to get hurt. That’s all. Mark knows how hard it was to be a med student, so he sympathized. I don’t know exactly what he said to Sofia. I can tell you that your dad’s request that you take her out with you and your friends came because Sofia was bored and Mark was afraid that she would get into trouble. You remember what a wild one she was, right?” Nick nodded against his arms. “Your dad thought he would do a nice thing for another worried dad by giving her something safe to do. That’s all there is to it. Not worth months of drama, is it?”

  “No,” Nick said, facing the hard truth of his own failure to communicate. Substituting anger for questions, he’d hurt them all.

  His mother’s face softened. “Nicholas, why don’t you go back to the house? Get some rest? We’re only a few minutes away, and I promise that I’ll call if your dad wakes up. He wants to see you, I know.”

  He shook his head slowly, rising to walk over to her. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was an idiot.”

  “Yes,” she said simply, reaching out to take his hand and pull him closer to her. “But I still love you, and so does your dad.” She kissed his hand. “Go home, son.”

  Nicholas wanted to do that more than anything in the world, but she was too far away.

  Instead, he dozed off and on in the recliner in the room, alternating with Laura so that someone was always close to William and he would know they were there. They talked a lot during that time, catching up on all of the things they’d missed since September. Nicholas didn’t remember having held a conversation that personal with either of his parents since he was in elementary school.

  As night fell, Laura started watching the clock, knowing that her decision time was drawing near. Her hands tightened on the blanket that covered William’s arm…and he moved. She looked up sharply, glancing between her husband and her son. “Nicholas…”

  Nick felt his face split into an unreasonable grin. Awake or asleep, their options hadn’t changed; there was just another voice to be added in. Still, he was happy. “I saw it, Mom. Call the doctors.”

  She hurried off to the nurses’ station, and Nick took her place in the side chair, holding his dad’s hand. After a few minutes, William’s eyelids began to flutter, and then his eyes opened slowly.

  William gestured toward his throat, and Nicholas understood he was asking for a drink. “Sorry, I can’t. Mom just went to call your doctors, and they’ll let you know if you can have anything.” Nodding, William weakly squeezed Nick’s hand, staring hard at his son’s face.

  Laura bustled back in, gasping when she saw that William’s eyes were open. “I called your doctor, Will, and he’s on his way in.”

  The nurse that had followed Laura into the room began taking vitals and asking questions, so Nicholas gently withdrew his hand from his father’s. Distress showed in William’s eyes. “I’m gonna get out of the way for a minute, Dad, but I’m not going any further than the hall, okay?”

  William nodded, relaxing back onto his pillow.

  Nicholas opened his phone, needing to call Jena and hear her voice and kicking himself for the calls from her that he’d missed during the course of the day, but the irritated charge nurse stomped over and covered it with her hand, informing him that cell use was prohibited in the ICU.

  Just as he decided to head outside where Nursezilla couldn’t fault him for using his phone, Nicholas saw Mark and Alex walking swiftly toward William’s door. They all entered together, and Dr. Masters talked briefly with the nurse, checking the vitals she’d taken minutes before. After a minute, he faced William.

  “Glad you’re back with us, Will. I’m not going to drag this out. The options are still the same as they were the last time we spoke. Do you want to change your mind about surgery?”

  William looked at everyone in the room, finally settling on Laura. He shook his head slightly, and Nicholas heard her gasp.

  “Will…we can try, right?” she asked, and he shook his head again. “Please, honey? Just try?”

  He sighed. And nodded. Laura’s eyes filled with grateful tears as Nicholas and Mark exchanged sober glances over her head.

  Dr. Masters broke the tense silence. “If that’s your decision, Will, we’ll respect that.” He checked his watch. “It’s almost ten, and we have a few more tests to run. Tomorrow morning, then?” He raised an eyebrow in question, and William nodded. “Fine. Now I suggest that the two of you—” he gestured at Nicholas and Laura “—go home and get some sleep.” He could obviously see stubbornness beginning to set Laura’s shoulders and held up a hand. “Laura, I insist. You’ve been here for over two days now. Go home, take a shower and a nap, and I’ll personally call you if there are any problems. Nicholas, please take your mother home before she collapses.”

  William’s raspy, weak voice sealed the deal. “Go.” His eyes closed again.

  Alex checked him quickly. “He’s sleeping. Go.”

  The Coopers lived fairly close to the hospital, so the drive home didn’t take long. Nicholas pulled up right in front of their large, graceful home, before walking around to help Laura out. A few brief words and a hug were all they managed before heading to their respective rooms. Nick briefly considered calling Jena, tossing his phone from hand to hand before gently setting it on his childhood dresser. Though the best part of him suggested that his hesitancy arose from consideration for her, a desire to let her make up for the last night’s disturbed sleep, a deeper part of him shrank from the possibility that he might hear that dead tone in her voice again. He couldn’t handle that again.

  He stumbled out to the linen closet and returned to his room to make the bed before he climbed gratefully between the sheets…and dreamed of Jena. Nothing erotic—he dreamed about the afternoon they spent making playlists for each other, laughing and kissing. His head was resting in her lap as she slouched on the couch, absently pulling her fingers through his hair, eyes closed, and the tiniest smile on her slightly parted lips…

  He woke holding his pillow, shivering because he hadn’t grabbed enough blankets. His dream stayed with him through his shower, making him feel close to Jena, and he found optimism rising again. Thinking about calling her before he left for the hospital again, Nick felt a jump in his chest at the thought of hearing her voice. He paused on the way back to his room, dripping on the floor as the epiphany of just how big a tool he was hit him. He really hadn’t asked her to come to Boston, had he? He just said she could come if she wanted to. What a fucking moron. Jena was the latest person that Nick had shoved away, but he’d also done it to his parents and every other damned person who tried to get close to him, except Conor. Con was unshoveable.

  “Mom!” he called down the stairs as he passed the landing after tugging on his jeans. “I’m on my way back to the hospital. Are you ready?” Digging around the vanity drawer, he found an unwrapped toothbrush and a tube of paste.

  His mom’s voice came from the office. “Almost. I talked to Mark a little while ago, and he said your dad is irritating the nurses already, so we have a few minutes. By the way, a package came for you a few minutes ago.”

  Nicholas paused in brushing his teeth and smiled. Jena. She must have shipped his clothes overnight. And thank God, because he desperately needed them. He rinsed his mouth and answered. “Thanks, Mom. Can you run it up?”

  There was a hesitation, and then she was leaning in the door. “Not really, Nicholas. You’ll have to get this one.” She pointed down the stairs, and Nicholas headed for th
e entryway. When he saw the size of the box, though, his feet slowed of their own accord before he rushed down and ripped open the large packing box.

  And found most everything he owned.

  Shirts.

  Pants.

  Underwear.

  Hell, even his dirty clothes were shoved in a garbage sack that was set at the bottom of the box.

  Random items, like the stuff off his dresser and the books off his nightstand were tossed on top, with a mass of toiletries and CDs. It was like Jena had gone around the apartment after she packed the clothes, grabbing anything of Nick’s that caught her eye and throwing it in the box. Bigger stuff was absent, but just about everything he used in everyday life was jumbled together, with his laptop somewhere in the middle.

  Nicholas stood staring into the box, all of his optimism gone in an instant.

  A gentle hand on his back made him jump. “Nicholas?” Laura asked.

  He pushed the heel of his hand into his eye socket and tried to think with a brain that had gone completely blank. Inappropriate laughter wanted to burst from his mouth, because God had he cocked things up this time.

  “Honey, I’m sure—” Laura started, and Nicholas held up his other hand for her to be quiet. Saying anything at all right now would be a very bad idea, unless he wanted to complete his humiliation by crying in front of his mother.

  Plucking the first shirt he could see from underneath the assorted things in the box and inhaling the scent of home, Nicholas pulled it on slowly, walking up the stairs to get his phone. He decided the universe hated him when it was dead. A soft tap on his arm got his attention, and Laura held her phone out to him without a word, leaving the room and shutting the door gently behind her.

  Standing in front of the window, Nicholas rested his hot forehead against the cool glass and looked out at the frosty trees in the back yard. This wasn’t his world anymore. He wanted home.

  Nicholas tried the house line first, then Jena’s cell. No answers on either one. It was Sunday, so she couldn’t be in class or at work. He briefly considered calling Leisa, but he didn’t want to fight with Travis. Not then.