The bell dinged, and he forced all the other thoughts and worries down into himself. First, he would find out how bad it was. Then he would figure out how best to proceed.
It wasn’t like there was a barking dog or even traffic noises this high up, so there was really no excuse for not being able to sleep. However, Kathryn had endured more than one night like this, and she knew there was no forcing sleep. In frustration, she flipped the covers off her legs and swung herself to the edge of the bed.
“Ugh.” Why did life have to be so impossible? She stood carefully and got her balance before turning her steps for the kitchen.
Over the sink, she turned on the little light and squinted into it. Two blinks and her eyes began to accept the invasion of the light. On auto-pilot and with a yawn, she went first to one cabinet, then to the other, gathering what she needed for chamomile tea. It was her first line of defense on nights such as these. If this didn’t work, she’d be back for hot chocolate in an hour. Then melatonin if all else failed.
She filled the little cup with hot water from the tap. It would give the tea that funny after-taste she hated, but it was quicker than going the kettle route, and since she’d read that stupid email about not heating water in the microwave, she’d been too much of a coward to try that again. Instead, she took her mostly lukewarm water to the counter and put in the teabag.
In no time the clear water had turned to a dull brownish-yellow. With one half teaspoon of sugar, she lifted it to her lips. “Ugh.” Terrible as she figured it would be. Not caring, she lifted it again, switch off the light, and headed back for her bedroom.
“Mr. Warren, your father has suffered a massive stroke.” The doctor in the white coat that Ben had never met before gave the news softly but with noted firmness.
The little consultation room seemed to close in on Ben as he shifted in the chair. He swallowed that feeling down. “Okay.”
“As next of kin, where we go from here is pretty much up to you and the good Lord,” the doctor continued obviously assuming Ben had some connection to the Creator that he really didn’t.
Ben narrowed his focus, trying to find the answers the doctor seemed to think he had. “I… Okay. Um. What are our options?”
“Well, we’ve stabilized him as much as we can. At this point, we could try surgery although with his heart history and his present condition, I can’t guarantee anything.”
Ben absorbed the news with another swallow, a nod, and a small shift backward. “Heart. Yeah… Okay. So…”
“We have an MRI scheduled for the morning to determine the exact extent of the damage. Once we get those results, we will probably know more about how to proceed.”
“Okay. Good.” It was incomprehensible that he should know what to say. “Um, can I see him?”
“He’s in ICU right now. They’re getting him settled. You can have a seat in the waiting area. ICU visits don’t really start until 8 a.m., but for you, I’ll make an exception. Your father and I played many rounds of golf together. I know he would want you to have this time if…” The words stopped. “Well, he would want you to have this time.”
Although Ben tried to wrap his mind around all of this and think it through, the truth was he was lost, like being in a forest with no trail and only brambles and briars for as far as the eye could see. How or why he had gotten dropped here, he had no idea. Where he was supposed to go from here was even vaguer. “Um, do you… do you think I should call my mother and… well, should I let everyone know?”
The pause was almost imperceptible, and then the doctor nodded. “I think that would be wise.”
Chapter 2
The night in the hospital waiting room, propped up next to the wall was the longest of Ben’s life. He didn’t really sleep, only nodded off once or twice. He’d tried to call his mother. She wasn’t home, but the help would leave a message. His mind had gone around and around the question of calling Jason, but he’d finally decided against it mostly because he didn’t know his number or even the exact name of the town he lived.
They’d only let him back to see his father once sometime around three in the morning. The best thing Ben could say about the visit was it was mercifully brief owing to the hospital rules about ICU visits. Those five minutes had been spent with his hands in his pockets, back practically pressed to the wall by the door. He didn’t want to go closer. He didn’t want to see.
Beeps from the monitors were the only indication that the man lying in the bed wasn’t already gone. Gone. It was such a strange word—especially in association with his father. There was a time, before the divorce when his father had been gone a lot. Actually, his father was there, just not in a traditional sense. As head of the regional neurology department for the hospitals in the area, his father was a very busy man. He was charged with saving lives, and the fact that other things paled in comparison was just reality.
And then the divorce came, and everything changed…
Ben let the breath go from his lungs as he thought about his mother and his parents’ marriage. The time when she had been present was so far gone that he hardly remembered them being together. At least that’s what he told himself. It was easier that way. Easier to forget his mother leaving him to watch Jason in the car while she went into that house on Macasy Street. Yes, he wished he could forget that. And he wished he could forget the fights and the tears and the ripping of his heart as he watched her car turn the corner out of sight that last day after being in court.
At the time he hadn’t had all the pieces, and in truth he still didn’t. But in adulthood, he’d filled in many of them so that the story at least made some sense now. His father’s absence was the excuse she used to find comfort in the arms of another man—Macasy Street. That had always been his name to Ben. Honestly, he’d only seen glimpses of the man, but they still brought up an irrational anger so dark that it threatened to swallow him whole.
Even now when he let the hard clamped mask over his heart slip, he felt that fury clutch his throat, choking the life from him. No. It was better not to remember. The problem was with so much time, remembering was harder to keep at bay than usual. He shifted in his seat next to the wall. The room was again coming to life, slowly, a few bodies at a time, they drifted in. He looked over at the clock and mentally had to search for how long from 7:34 it would be until 8 o’clock. Taking a breath, he closed his eyes to push it all away. He didn’t want to be here.
The bleep of his phone brought him forward, and he yanked it from his pocket. With one touch he had it to his ear. “Warren.”
“Hey, bro. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
Ben laughed at the thought and scratched his head. “Hey, Kell. How’s it going?”
“I’m fine. How’s it going with you?”
It was strange how hard it had become just to breathe. He looked around, tilted his neck to stretch it first one way and then the other. “I’ve been better.”
“How’s your dad?”
His head fell forward on the weight of the situation. He couldn’t find the words. They just were not there. “I… Um… It’s not good, Kell. It’s not.”
Kelly didn’t say a thing for a moment as he absorbed the news. “I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“Well, I’m not real clear on the details, but at like 11 last night his maid found him in the kitchen. He had a stroke.”
“A TIA. Right?”
“No. This one was massive. Almost like an aneurism from what I can figure based on what they’re not telling me. He’s in ICU.” Defiantly, though he couldn’t clearly determine who the enemy was, Ben sat back and put his head on the wall. “I just… I wasn’t ready for this, you know? I mean, I just talked to him the other day, and he sounded fine. We were going to go golfing next weekend…”
“Do you want me to come down there?”
Ben deflated. “No. There’s not really anything you can do.”
The pause stretched between them.
“Are you going t
o call your mom?”
“I tried. Last night. She’s out. I don’t even know what that means. Out. With Mom, that could mean in the Caribbean, in Hawaii, or on the moon.”
“The moon?”
“You know what I mean.”
Ding. The speaker cracked on. “It’s 8 a.m. Visiting for ICU.”
Looking up at the speaker, Ben wanted to punch it to get it to shut up. “Listen, Kell. I’ve got to go. Visiting hours.” What he really wanted to do was act like he’d never heard the announcement. What difference would it make? His father couldn’t hear him anyway. Besides, he was not equal to this task. No possible way.
“Call me. Okay? Whatever. You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Yeah.” But he didn’t believe a word of it. He was alone. More alone than he had ever been.
“Don’t start.” Kathryn stirred her oolong tea as her steamed rice sat heaped on her plate Saturday afternoon.
“I’m just sayin’,” her sister, Casey said. Casey, younger by three years and moved two-hours out to the suburbs so these little get-togethers had gotten few and far between, sat like a pixy on the edge of her chair flicking things back and forth on her plate.
Anger plowed over Kathryn. “No. No just sayin’. I don’t want to hear it. Okay?”
“Kate, if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t suggest it, but I see how miserable you are.”
“Oh, and you’re not? I don’t see you doing cartwheels, Mrs. Married for eight years with two kids.”
“Well, but it’s different for me. Brett makes me crazy. You know that. He always has.” Casey laid her hand across the table until it rested on Kathryn’s wrist. “But I love him, and he loves me. I just want that for you, Kate. Is that so wrong?”
“No.” Kathryn picked up her fork and rearranged the white grains as she yanked a long piece of blonde hair over her ear. “It’s just… It’s not the same for me. You fell in love in college. College wasn’t exactly a picnic in that department for me.”
“So, you were a late bloomer. So what?”
“Cas, I’m 32. Thirty. Two.”
“Almost thirty-three, but who’s counting? Come on, Kate. You’re smart, and you’re so kind and helpful and…”
“Doomed to be single forever.”
“No. Not true. You just have to get out there. You spend entirely too much time at work and in that apartment of yours.”
“I like my apartment.”
“And I’m sure it likes you back. Come on, Kate. Face it. If the only places you ever go are work and home, how are you ever going to meet someone?”
“I go other places.” Kathryn hated the defensiveness in her voice.
“Like where?”
“Church.” Okay. It was lame. But it really wasn’t. She’d been in the singles group until she got too old. Of course, she could join the re-single group, but that had no appeal.
“Are there any prospects at church?”
Her heart skipped just a little at the thought. She smiled before she could stop it. “Well, there is this one guy. He came in a couple weeks ago. He sat a couple benches ahead of me.”
“A ring?”
“Not that I could tell.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.” It was like pushing the words off a cliff. She didn’t want to think them, to go down that road because she’d been disappointed after getting her hopes up so many times, she had this feeling memorized.
“No ring. Coming to church alone. Good. Good.” Casey considered those for a moment as she ate her noodles slowly. “Age?”
“I don’t know. A little younger? A little older. That’s kind of hard to tell anymore.” Kathryn let her fork go and sipped her tea.
“So, in the right age-range roughly, new to church. I think you should introduce yourself.”
Horror painted her face red hot as she shook her ponytail back and forth. “I’m not introducing myself. Are you crazy?” She ducked at the thought that anyone in the restaurant had overheard the conversation. “He’ll think I’m insane.”
“So you’d rather some other insane chick gets him first?”
“Casey!”
Her sister frowned. “What? You do your level best to melt into the woodwork, Kate, and then you wonder why no one notices you.”
“I can’t…. I couldn’t…. I’m not like you.” She went back to her rice though she had lost her appetite completely.
“And you have thanked God for that on regular occasions.”
“That’s not true,” Kathryn said although she knew it was a lie.
“Yes it is, but thanks for trying.” Casey spun her fork in her noodles three times. “Look. All I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to go out once in awhile. You know, get yourself out there.”
A thought traced through Kathryn’s head, and she bit her tongue to keep it from coming out. No. Don’t say it. Don’t tell her. You know what she’ll say. Don’t say it. Don’t say it! “Well, Misty said…” Kathryn ducked, hating herself for saying it the instant it was out.
“Yes? Continue.” Casey circled her fork in the air, her gaze suddenly excited and full of anticipation.
Kathryn shrugged, smiled, and then laughed as she ducked over her rice. “Well, she’s got this cousin or something.”
This time Casey laid her fork all the way down. “And…?”
“I don’t know. She said he’s back in town, and he’s single…”
“Hello! What are you waiting for—an engraved invitation?”
“I don’t know.” Kathryn scrunched her nose in embarrassed apprehension. “A blind date? Isn’t that kind of… I don’t know… desperate?”
“Well, I guess that would depend on what you wear and if you sit on his lap and ask him to marry you before you get in the car.”
Annoyance flooded over Kathryn. “You’re terrible. I would never do something like that.”
The laughing taunt left Casey’s face. “Look, all I’m saying, big sister, is that Mr. Right is obviously not going to just fall into your lap. You’ve got to stop waiting around and be a little more proactive in the search. Who knows, Mr. Cousin Guy might be him, or maybe he knows him, or maybe when you’re at the restaurant, him will come around the corner, and you’ll just know. It’s not like it’s an exact science, you know.”
Kathryn picked up her tea and sipped it carefully although it was by now only tepid. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
Sleep sounded heavenly. After being at the hospital for 18 hours straight, Ben boarded the elevator that made him sway as it started downward. He ran his hand over the back of his head wishing any of this made sense. He still hadn’t gotten in touch with his mother, and his father’s condition, though stabilized, did not look any better. In fact, the MRI was inconclusive because of some swelling on the brain.
The doctor told him that was normal, but nothing was normal now. Nothing. On the ground floor, he followed the others out, thinking how long of a walk the parking lot seemed. He had run marathons that were shorter.
“Ben?”
Instinctively he turned at the sound of his name as Travis Steele, one of the younger doctors in oncology, stepped up to him. He put out his hand, and Ben shook it.
“I was sorry to hear about your dad,” Travis said. “He’s one of the good guys. How’s he doing?”
Ben stepped back into his cocoon of personal space. “Not great. They’re waiting for the swelling to go down so they can figure out what to do.” Was it just him or did the whole world seem like some strange, psychedelic dream all of a sudden? Who was this saying these things? It couldn’t be him. He didn’t even understand them himself and yet somehow he sounded like he understood it all perfectly.
“Oh. Sorry to hear about that.” Travis looked to the side. “Listen, I was just about to go get some coffee if you’d like to join me.”
Not really. But he heard himself say, “Okay. Sure.”
In fact once they sat down, Ben found it was nice to have someone to talk with that understood
at least a minimum of his situation. That was comforting.
“I wish I knew,” Ben said as they discussed what happened if things went south with his dad’s condition. “It’s just me here. My mom lives in Oakland, and my little brother… Well, I’m not even real sure where he lives. I don’t know if they’d come for the funeral or not.” Once again the sheer weirdness of the whole situation descended on him. He thought about Dr. Steele, a young man—probably younger than even himself, and for the first time, Ben thought about the other side of saving lives. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?” Travis took a small drink of the coffee.
“How do you come here every day when you know some of your patients aren’t going to make it? Doesn’t that make you crazy?”
“It can. At first it was much worse, and even now, sometimes it’s rough, but you learn to do what you can, care as much as you can, and then let go. Sometimes what you do works. Sometimes it doesn’t. The final call’s not up to me. God makes that one. But sometimes it’s easier than others to agree He made the right one.”
God. There was a topic Ben did not want to discuss. He wondered then if every doctor who practiced at St. Anthony’s had to swear by some oath of faith or something. He’d never really thought about it before. However, before he could ask, Dr. Steele looked at his watch.
“Well, I’d better get back. I’m on call tonight.”
“Oh, well.” Ben scrambled to his feet, his spirit lagging a good six inches behind every move he made. “Thanks.”
Dr. Steele extended his hand. “I hope you get a miracle. I’ll be praying for one.”
“Th-thanks.”
Macaroni for one. Kathryn pushed it around her plate and then around again as she sat at her counter, a single glass of water the only other thing on it. Bored, she turned and grabbed the day old newspaper from the coffee table, propped it up and leaned forward on the stool. It wasn’t interesting. Politics and foreign affairs—neither of which were more than distractions for her. She read the first few paragraphs of three stories before giving up and pitching it back onto the coffee table. She would never see what others found so fascinating.
Coming Undone Page 2