“He’s your brother.”
“Huh. That’s convenient now.”
“Well, this is between you, your brother, and your father.”
If it didn’t hurt so badly, he would have laughed. It was going to be a little tough to include his father at this point. He jerked his fingers through his hair, pretty much knowing the curls and waves left in its wake were already out-of-control. What else to do? “Well, if you’re not coming, could I at least have Jason’s number?”
“You don’t know it?”
He wanted to scream at her. Really he did. “Uh, no. I don’t know it. If I did, I would’ve called him three days ago.”
“Oh, well, I would’ve thought your father would have given it to you.”
The comment struck him as odd. He wasn’t aware that his father even knew where Jason was. It was becoming apparent there were a lot of things he wasn’t aware of. “No, he didn’t.”
“Well, it’s 55…”
Then he realized he had no way to write it down, and he no longer trusted his memory at all. “Hang on. Let me get something to write it down.”
She sighed like this was some dramatic imposition on her time.
As he strode down the hall, he realized he should at least act like an adult. “So what are you up to anyway?”
“I’m in Cozumel for a month. Sand, sun, surf.”
“Ah.” At the desk, he motioned to the nurse who after a nice little game of charades gave him a pen and some paper. “Vacation?”
“Actually we’re treating it as an early honeymoon. We may go to Hawaii after the actual ceremony in a couple weeks.”
“Honey…” He let out a breath. “Moon. Okay.” Not that he was surprised. He knew enough from his father’s off-handed comments about the money situation that his mother had considered remarrying at least twice. Both times it had fallen through due to the possibility that she would lose her right to alimony if she did.
“Who knows, I might actually go through with it this time,” she said.
“Great.” He stretched one syllable to seven. “Okay. I’m ready.” He really wasn’t but, he was already sick of this call and everything else about his life.
“Casey told me about Misty’s cousin,” her mother said as Kathryn spun a strand of hair around and around and around her finger.
She curled further on the couch, the phone in her hand. “Mom, don’t start.”
“Who’s starting? I’m just saying…”
“I know what you’re just saying. You’re always just saying.”
“Well, must I be the one to point out you are almost 33?”
“I am not. I’m only 32 and eight months.” She smirked at the phone, hating her defensiveness. Why did she always feel like second hand garbage in this department with her mother? She was a successful, professional woman with her own apartment and life. So why could her mom make her feel like she was the worst failure on the planet with only ten words?
“Like I said, you’re almost 33, and what prospects do you have? You work all the time…”
“Mom…”
“You never go out.”
“Mom…”
“You haven’t had a boyfriend since that guy you brought to Hannah’s wedding…”
Kathryn fought not to wither under the barrage. “Mom!”
“What?”
“Do we really have to do this every time?”
“I just don’t want to see you alone. That’s all. I want you to find someone.”
Sighing to keep her anger in check, Kathryn’s mind spun back and forth through her day.
“I want you to be happy,” her mother continued. “Is that so wrong?”
“I am happy.”
The snort was past sarcastic. “You are not happy.”
Why did she so want to convince her mother what was truly not the truth? No, she wasn’t happy—at least in this area. She wanted to be, but short of throwing herself into the meat market at the bar, she had no clue how to do that.
“I was going to tell you, there is this guy that came to the salon the other day…”
“Mom!”
“What? He was cute, and Janie said he’s single too. I could ask…”
Kathryn pushed her fingers onto the bridge of her nose. “No. Mom. Don’t. Please.”
“What would it hurt to ask? It’s not like I’m setting you up on a blind date with a beast. He was a very nice young man.”
This was getting worse. “No. Mom. No blind dates with guys you don’t even know. No.”
“Well, then I think you should go out with Misty’s friend or how about that guy Casey knows, that neighbor of her friend from the choir…”
“Ugh, Mom. I’m hanging up now.”
“She said he’s very nice looking…”
“Good-bye, Mom.” Kathryn took the phone from her ear, waited a second, and put it back to see if her mother had stopped going down every rabbit hole she could find. She hadn’t, so Kathryn hit the off button. Laying her head on her knee, she thought through it all. They all meant well. Surely they did, but every time the conversation turned to her lack of a love life, it made her feel like an utter failure.
“God, please, bring me someone… just to shut them up.”
That was a bad reason, but at this point she was desperate to find any reason He might actually listen to.
“Uh, yes, is this… Uh, I’d like to speak with Jason Warren please.” Ben leaned back on the couch in the lobby. He’d waited to make the call until darkness had overtaken the landscape outside. He told himself it was because Jason was on West Coast time and probably wouldn’t be home before then. The truth was, this wasn’t a call he wanted to make.
“This is Jason.”
The slamming of Ben’s heart hurt. He let out a breath, remembering to his core that voice that now sounded so very different. “Uh, Jason?”
“Yeah?”
“Um, Jason, I don’t know if you remember me or not. This is Ben. Ben Warren.”
Could the aftermath of a bomb explosion have been any more silent?
“Ben?”
“Yeah.”
It was amazing how two syllables could twist things in such a confusing jumble.
“Um. Hm. This is a surprise,” Jason said, being the first to come up with words to put to the situation.
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry. But listen, something’s come up.” Ben raked his fingers through his hair, hard. At least the pain told him he was still alive, though the numbness was honestly more comforting. “Listen, I called Mom. She gave me your number.”
“Why? What happened? What’s going on?” There was real panic in his brother’s voice.
“It’s Dad. He had a stroke a couple days ago.”
“A couple days? Why didn’t you call sooner? Is he all right?”
“Jase, slow down. Look, I’ve been trying to call Mom, but apparently she was out of the country. I didn’t have your number.”
“You didn’t? Why not?”
“Why not?” That question threw him, and he squinted into it to try to come up with an answer. “Why didn’t I have your number? How would I have had your number? I haven’t talked to you in…” Did he have to come up with an exact number? If he did, he was in trouble.
“I know, but Dad had it.”
The news pushed Ben back into the couch cushions. Dad had it? “Dad? Are you sure? He never… he never told me that.”
“Yes, I’m sure. He’s been calling me every so often for a couple years now—ever since I got married.”
Seriously, Ben just wanted to stop the ride and get off. It was making him dizzy and sick. “Oh? So you’re married then?” He wanted to feel casual about the whole thing. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
“Yeah.” There was a suspiciousness to Jason’s tone. “Didn’t Dad tell you about the wedding?”
This was getting worse. “Wed… Hm. No.” Ben scratched the top of his eye. “He didn’t mention that.”
“
He didn’t tell you why he came out here?”
“Out here?” The walls started closing in on Ben. The feeling that this was all some kind of dream, that nothing was real began inching up on him. He cleared his throat and shifted on the couch to stop its onslaught.
“To Colorado. When he came out here for that conference thing?”
Conference? His father went to a lot of conferences all over the country. Ben searched his mind for the one in question, but he couldn’t find it.
“Dad came out for the wedding that weekend. He didn’t tell you?”
Sick. Really he was going to be sick on his shoes. “No. He didn’t.”
Jason paused for a very long moment. “Well, that’s weird. He said you were busy.”
Well, that was probably accurate. He was usually busy with something. Then again if he had known… “I’m sorry, Jason. Really. I am. I’ve been trying to call, I just had no idea how to get a hold of you.”
“That’s okay.”
He could tell it wasn’t, but Jason was at least trying.
“So, how is he?” Jason finally asked, and Ben’s gaze went over to the solid wooden door. He hated that door and that room.
Sitting forward, he put his head on his hand. How do you tell the brother you haven’t seen in 20 years that his father is dying? “I’m not going to lie. It’s not good. I had to sign some papers…”
“What kind of papers?” Jason’s voice arched up two notches into near-panic. “Talk to me, Ben. What’s going on?”
Pain sliced right through Ben. Saying the words hurt worse than he could ever have imagined. “Dad’s in… um… they moved him to hospice. The stroke was really bad, and they didn’t think…”
“What hospital are you in?”
“Uh, St. Anthony’s.”
“New York, right?”
“Yeah. Right.”
“Okay, listen, I’m going to book a flight. I’ll be there by tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.” Ben could think of no reason to argue.
The whole night Ben lay awake, tossing and turning in his bed, tortured by what might be in the cards for the following day. Jason was coming. That was a good thing. At least he hoped it was a good thing, but he couldn’t be exactly sure about that. He still remembered Kathryn’s comment about families screaming at each other, and that did nothing to calm him. He hadn’t had many people scream at him over the years. The prospect frightened him more than he wanted to admit. After all, how did he know what Jason might think of him for signing those papers? Or what would he think of him, period?
That thought drove him farther into the covers. Opening his eyes, he tried to stop the thoughts, but they were like a train wreck jamming one car on top of the other.
Memories from so long ago he had convinced himself they were not real suddenly attacked him in the quiet of the apartment. Fighting to breathe, he rolled over and fought not to think those thoughts. But every time he closed his eyes, they were there. Very few of them spoke of anything good. How could his mind remember things he thought he had forgotten? Really. He wanted to forget them all. He just wanted to make them stop.
Putting the pillow over his face and ears, he squeezed his eyes closed, trying to make them stop. If he could just make them stop…
Chapter 7
Checking herself in the mirror once more as the morning came to life, Kathryn spun to the side. Not bad overall. Her hair was an issue. Up. Down. Which was best? She finally put it into a ponytail, anchored it upward, and fanned it out. Not bad.
She told herself the nice outfit was in case the good doctor decided to make a repeat appearance. That was as good a lie as any.
“Good morning,” Kathryn said, floating into the lobby just above the ground—at least that’s how it felt. “Anything I need to know?”
Misty turned and arched her eyebrows. “Well, don’t you look nice?”
Kathryn pushed that to the side as quickly as it came. She picked up the three folders on the counter.
“Um, we’ve got a new admit coming at ten, scheduled for Room 12,” Misty said.
“Okay. And Mr. Guthrey?”
“Made it through another night. I swear I think his family’s about to break. Twenty days is enough to stretch even my patience.”
“In his time and God’s.” She looked through the top two folders, wanting to ask about Mr. Warren but knowing that would be way too obvious. She glanced only once at the door at the far end of the hallway, but she yanked her gaze back to the folders. “Okay. Call if you need me.”
With that, she walked down to her office. On the other side of the door, she stopped, closed her eyes, and said a very soft prayer only in her heart. “God, I don’t want to make this big deal over him with the situation as it is. Please God, keep me from making an idiot of myself.” That was a tall order. Even she knew that.
Ben opened the hospice door, having no idea what would be on the other side. He figured if something had changed, they would call him, but he had never thought to ask that question, so he wasn’t really sure. Trying to keep as low a profile as possible, he skirted the nurse’s area. With his hand next to his hairline, he hurried around the lobby furniture to the door on the end. One hard breath and he opened the door.
He wasn’t sure how much longer his heart could take this roller coaster. Not that he wanted to find out what came next, but this was taxing his coping abilities. Sleep was non-existent, and he hadn’t had the stomach to even look at breakfast. How much longer he could keep this up was anybody’s guess. If he was guessing, he would’ve said not much longer.
In the bed, his father lay, still motionless; however, his breathing sounded much raspier than it had before. Ben couldn’t face the reality in that bed, so he went over to the couch and sat down like someone had kicked his knees out from under him. Sitting didn’t make him feel any better. He was beginning to think nothing would.
Knowing he needed to check in with work, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number. Jason would be coming any time now. He hated that thought. It made him both defensive and worried, so he tried not to think it. “Uh, yeah, Jack? This is Ben.” Yanking his jacket off, he tossed it over to the side chair and buried himself in the details of work.
“Good morning,” Kathryn greeted Mrs. Edith Guthrey.
The older lady looked up from her rosary with tired eyes. Twenty days passed through Kathryn’s mind. She stepped to the bed.
“How are we doing today?”
“Still here,” Mrs. Guthrey said. “I always said he was too stubborn for his own good.”
Turning to the older lady, Kathryn noted the abandoned cups on the end tables. “Are you here by yourself?”
“The kids had to get back to work. Can’t put food on the table when you’re not working.” Mrs. Guthrey nodded. “I understand that. Really I do.”
Kathryn heard the note of trying to talk herself into not blaming them or being bitter. Carefully she sat down on the couch and leaned her elbows on her knees. “Would you like me to pray with you?”
“Oh, darling, I know you’ve got better things to do.”
But Kathryn smiled. “Actually, I think God penciled you into my schedule just for right now.”
With a sad, grateful smile, Mrs. Guthrey reached over and put her wrinkled hand on Kathryn’s. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us, dear.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
For something Ben really didn’t even want to happen. He drummed his fingers on the couch armrest. This was like the cruelest bad joke ever. Losing patience with the couch, he stood and paced first one way and then the other. He wished he had gotten some sleep last night. Maybe that would’ve helped, but he doubted it. Turning, he looked across at the bed. Both hands came up to his face and his eyes and rubbed there. This wasn’t happening. It really wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
This was all just a very bad dream that he was going to wake up from. T
hat had to be it. It was the only thing that made any sense at all.
“Wake up, Ben. Wake up.” He shook his head hard, twice. But when he took his hands away, nothing had changed. Nothing in this surreal, insane nightmare. He could feel his mind slipping-sliding from his control. Control. There was a funny, ironic, moronic word. He hated that word. He really did. It held such a recrimination of his existence that it dug even deeper into his growing despondent acceptance of his own inadequacy. Had he ever been able to handle anything? He couldn’t clearly remember anymore.
His cell phone beeped, and he yanked it out glad, for the distraction. He really didn’t care who it was. “Warren.”
“Benjamin, my man.”
“Kelly.” Ben collapsed back on the couch. He was so exhausted even normal felt strangely odd and demanding.
“I was just driving in and thinking about you. I’ve got a call not far from where you are, wondered if I might stop by.”
Ben’s gaze snapped over to his father’s lifeless form, and he swallowed. “Oh, Kell, you don’t have to.”
“Hey, Ben. Come on now. You’ve been hanging out there for five days. Tamitha is about to skin me alive if I don’t at least go check on you.”
He was too exhausted to argue. “Okay.”
When Mrs. Guthrey’s niece came, Kathryn quietly said good-bye and tip-toed out. She had other patients to check on. Misty was obviously checking on someone because there was no one at the station. Kathryn went to the center station, not because she thought anything would be out of sorts, but it’s what they did for each other—watching each other’s back. They were a good team.
Sure enough at the desk, the phone was blipping. It didn’t really ring, more made this odd little sound that you could only hear if you were right on top of it.
She punched the two buttons. “St. Anthony’s Hospice, this is Kathryn.”
“Yes, I’m needing some directions to your facility from the airport.”
In quick succession Kathryn gave the directions just as a tall, nice-looking black man with broad shoulders and a hesitant smile accompanying hesitant eyes approached from the entrance.
Coming Undone Page 9