“You’re gonna have to get along. Both now, and when I’m gone,” Daniel insisted. “I want you both to be a permanent fixture in this here woman’s life,” he said.
“I hear you,” Johnny and David said in unison.
I knew they’d both be there for me in spite of their differences. When I’m gone, those words echoed in my ears. I felt deep sadness inside when I thought of the fact that Daniel would soon be gone.
“I’m still here,” Daniel reminded me, squeezing my hand.
Johnny folded his arms and rested his head on the kitchen bench top. He was exhausted.
“Go to bed,” I suggested.
“I’ll be fine,” he told me. “I’ll stay up with you a while longer.”
“Go to sleep Johnny. Your eyes are hanging out of your head. Get some rest while you can.”
He sat up abruptly, filled with energy. “Thank goodness you told me that, I better keep these eyes in my head. Almost lost them.”
I laughed a little too loudly and Josiah, sleeping comfortably in the sling, grimaced in his sleep.
Johnny laughed sleepily at his own joke before getting up to go. “Goodnight,” he said, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Sing out if you need me.”
I did. That night, Daniel woke up trembling, feverish. Trying not to wake the babies, he tried not to yell. “I can’t see. I can’t see!” he cried.
“What can’t you see?” Johnny asked. “Can you see me in front of you? What am I wearing? What colour’s my shirt?”
After a moment of hesitation Daniel replied, “What’re you doing wearing my Kiss t-shirt!”
“Didn’t get round to doin’ me laundry yet,” was Johnny’s reply.
“Not the Kiss t-shirts mate!” Daniel exclaimed.
“Okay, so you can see,” Johnny acknowledged.
“It’s all a little blurry,” Daniel said, calmer than he was moments ago.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but silent tears ran down my face at the thought of him losing his vision.
“Probably a side effect of the drugs you’re on. I remember the doc saying it might happen,” Johnny said. “We’ll get David to have a look in, and see whether Doctor Josefine and Doctor Smith can come by tomorrow.
Daniel sighed and shook his head in disagreement. “I can’t do this. I can’t not be able to see anymore. I can’t,” he sobbed. I pulled him into my arms. He’d lost so much weight I was afraid to hug him too tightly for fear I’d hurt him.
Johnny remained by Daniel’s side, his face not showing his fear and sadness though I knew he was breaking up inside. “You’re still here, mate. You’re still here. The meds have shown promise. Despite the side effects they may make you better. I’m sorry we can’t do or say anything else to make this better.”
Wiping tears off his face, Daniel acknowledged his fear of dying. “I’m terrified of dying. I’m terrified of what kind of future I’ll leave behind for Teme and the kids.”
“Don’t be,” Johnny said. “David’s as good as they come. I’m here. As long as I’ve got life in me, I’ll be here for your wife and kids. Your family will be well looked after.”
“Yes, but financially…” Daniel started.
“We’ll build our own law practice, Teme and I. Keep Craig at bay. With David, as long as he keeps on keepin’ on, he’s set for life. Your family will be set for life.”
Daniel nodded in reply. Adalia and Josiah cooed over the monitor and I got up and out of bed to check on them. As I did so, I heard the front door unlock. David was back.
I planted a kiss on Daniel’s temple and left him with Johnny.
I flipped on the corridor light, startling David slightly. “You’re back earlier than planned?”
“Rescheduled the surgery to tomorrow. A bit of a hold on the dental prosthetics,” he explained, slipping off his shoes then hanging his coat up on the rack. I took his lunchbox from him.
“Everything okay?” he asked. “What’s happened.”
“Daniel’s in a bit of pain. He’s also having trouble seeing,” I told him, nearly in tears.
He gave me a quick embrace before heading straight for the master bedroom with his medical bag.
Daniel was asleep, and Johnny sat at the edge of the bed. That he was distraught was apparent.
“Get some rest, buddy,” David advised, making his way over to Daniel. He’d brought his stethoscope in with him.
“I’ll be alright,” Johnny replied.
“Get some rest,” David repeated. “While you can.”
Johnny headed his advice, opting to sleep on the settee in the corner of the room instead of in the guest room.
David snuck me a strange look before putting his stethoscope on and checking Daniel’s heart rate then blood pressure. Daniel opened his eyes for long enough to let David do his observations.
“Blood pressure’s on the low side,” David acknowledged. “He’s had some pain relief?”
“He has,” I replied.
“He needs to be in a hospital,” David said under his breath.
“He doesn’t want that,” I argued.
“He doesn’t need that,” Johnny stated. “It’s tough enough as it is, him going in for chemo treatments and all.”
“I appreciate what you’re tryin’ to do here but trust me. He’ll be better off in a hospital,” David insisted.
“I may as well give up on life if I’m to resign myself to life in a hospital,” Daniel replied.
David paused for a moment before announcing, “I’ll arrange for in-home care, then.”
“We can’t afford that,” Daniel said.
“I can,” was David’s response. Before Daniel had a chance to argue with him, he stood up and left the room.
Daniel swung his feet over the edge of the bed and attempted to get up but failed. He got up too quickly and Johnny hurriedly braced him before he fell over.
“Where to mate?” Johnny asked.
“David needs to know that I don’t want to invest in anything that will merely prolong me being here without an improvement in quality of life. I don’t want him wasting his money on me,” he explained.
“I hope you’re not back onto that Do Not Resuscitate stuff,” I told him. “I thought we had an agreement?”
“Sugarpie you know as well as I do that we can’t afford more aggressive treatment so I’ve made the decision to opt for hospice care. Here at home. If my health is to worsen, I just want you to do what you can to make me feel comfortable. No trips to the emergency ward. Do not resuscitate means do not resuscitate.”
“This isn’t fair Daniel,” I said, my heart racing. “David’s doing all he can to make that experimental treatment possible. Please don’t let go of life now. We need you to do everything you can to get better.”
“You need to let me go,” he said callously. “Life’s for the living, and the way I’m living now, I’m as good as dead.”
Johnny stood up abruptly and walked away from us, pacing near the bedroom’s bay windows. He was distraught and in tears, as was I.
Daniel’s painful words struck me hard. I found myself without words to say in response. He had gotten better for a time, but his health had declined seemingly overnight.
“This is not how I want to leave you and the babies,” Daniel said, squeezing my hand.
I’d wished for many things but in that moment I wished I could’ve breathed new life into him. That his pain be ended and that his life would begin again.
“Temwani,” David called out from the room adjacent, interrupting the moment I had with Daniel. “I need you to help me sort out something,” he called out.
“I’ll be back,” I told Daniel, reluctant to leave his side. Johnny returned to Daniel’s side.
David was vigorously tapping away at the computer’s keyboard when I joined him. “I’m putting my house in Maryborough on the market,” he announced. “I reckon it’ll sell in no time. The money we make on the sale will help fund any and all treatments required by Daniel,�
� he said as he typed away. “I need you to look over the contract of sale. I’ve got a template, I just need you to give it a quick squizz before I send it back to the agent for the buyer.”
My heart sank as I thought of his beautiful cottage in Maryborough. The freshly laid cypress boards, the beautiful cornices and decorative ceilings. He was prepared to sell it all to pay for a course of experimental treatment that might not even work. If he needed help looking it over before sending it to the buyer’s agent, it meant he’d already commenced the process. I’d misjudged him. He was prepared to do everything he could to help Daniel.
When Daniel woke the next morning, he made a request regarding Johnny. “Whatever you do, please look out for Johnny. He’s the baby brother I always wanted and overall he’s an awesome friend. As for Michaela, let’s hope he leaves her. For good. She doesn’t deserve him and he’d be better off without her.”
I nodded, agreeing with Daniel’s feeling in principle, though neither one of them was innocent. Johnny’s behaviour and Michaela’s reaction to that behaviour was largely to blame for the friction and drama in their lives. Siding with Johnny was fair enough but he needed help. Desperately.
“I know what you’re going to say. Give him a chance. If he had a chance to live a different life, one away from her, he’d be a different man.”
“I hear you baby, but he does need help, and it’s got to come from him, and him only,” I reminded him.
“True that,” he replied. “No harm in trying to help him make that change.”
I acknowledged his request with a nod.
“Please,” he said again.
“I’ll look out for him,” I promised.
Daniel was violently sick that evening, and we put it down to the new course of medications he was on.
Johnny and Sadie tended to the babies, while I stayed up with Daniel. David was to come by later, as he had been doing over the past few weeks.
“I can’t do this,” Daniel complained. “I’m not getting any better,” he said.
“Sometimes it has to get worse before it gets better,” I told him.
“I’m embarrassed to have you see me like this,” he told me.
“Baby, don’t be,” I said, planting kisses on his forehead which felt hot.
“No more doctors,” he protested. “Please,” he begged. “No more doctors.”
I drenched a face cloth in a bowl of cool water, wrung it, and applied it to his forehead. He closed his eyes and rested momentarily. I thought to call David and to see whether his medications could be adjusted or changed.
“No more doctors,” he said again, barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” I told him, tears I could no longer contain running down my face.
“I don’t want to live like this,” he added. “No more doctors.”
I fell asleep and woke to the surprise of Daniel holding me in his arms. He’d fixed himself up to a seated position and in that moment looked and sounded better. “I promised to carry you, to take care of you, and to be there for you, but I’m failing,” he stated.
“Daniel, none of that matters now, none of that matters. You’ve been there for me when I needed you.”
“That’s a lie and you know it,” he said, suddenly imbued with energy. “I admit I was an ass for the most part, but I hope you know I’ve always loved you. If I had my way, I’d do anything to ensure I’d be here for you. I don’t have my way. I haven’t got the means to ensure I’ll be here for you. This is it,” he said.
“I’m not giving up hope on you getting through this,” I told him, “I’m not…”
“I’m accepting that this is my fate,” he replied.
The digital alarm on my phone vibrated lightly. He was due to take some pain relief in the form of pills, his corticosteroids and anti-seizure medication.
“I’ve taken the pain relief,” he stated. “I’m not taking the other meds,” he advised.
“Daniel, you can’t just stop…”
“I can,” he told me. “This isn’t living,” he said. “Not for me, and not for you. I feel this is the end.”
“Those pills you don’t want to take will keep you alive,” I told him.
“This isn’t living, and I don’t feel alive,” he stated point blankly, holding me close to him, preventing me from getting away, for I was only getting away to get him those pills. “Look, I’m not in pain,” he stated. “Not right now anyway,” he said. “I won’t be in pain when I let go,” he announced. “Not sure how long this’ll last, but I want to stay up with you. I want to hold you, thank you for everything you’ve been to me in the short time we’ve had together.” He held me tightly, head nuzzled against mine.
I couldn’t hold back tears.
“This is how I want it to end,” he said. “No more doctors. Me, you, the babies. If I haven’t got the rest of my life ahead of me with you, this is how I wish for you to remember me.”
22
FOREVER LOST
It was more of the same the next morning as Daniel continued to refuse to take his medication.
“Teme, I need your permission to let go. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I can’t take you seeing me like this. I can feel my body getting weaker and weaker. I need your permission to leave,” he said. “Everything within me aches.”
“I’ve organized to be with you 24/7,” I told him. “Please just rest. I know you want to do more, but you can’t. Please just rest. The more you rest, the better you’ll feel…”
“I’m afraid of sleeping,” he confessed. “I’m afraid that if I sleep, I won’t wake up. I want to go when I’m ready, but I feel I won’t be when I do.”
I ached for him.
“I…,” he started, then trailed off. He reached for the sick bag on the side table and held it over his mouth, in anticipation of getting sick. He wasn’t sick. “I can leave knowing he’ll be here to look after you and the kids. I can leave knowing I will see you all again one fine day.”
That morning, he requested that we organise travel to South Texas.
We took our final trip together to South Texas. Loaded the houseboat up and packed enough supplies to last us a week. Something within me told me this was where he wanted it to end, and that this was where it would end.
Daniel insisted on David coming with us, if only to man the boat, as he was too unwell to do so. I instinctively knew it was another way for him to bring us together. His treating doctor had offered to come as well.
“This is how I want to remember us,” Daniel said. “I’ll never forget the first time I took you out on this here boat, and you were so afraid of love. So afraid of giving,” he recalled. “I’m glad I was able to convince you to let go of the past, and to love again. To give again.”
Our first evening on the boat was our last. We slept, the babies in between both of us. Adalia curled up to Daniel as she usually did in sleep, while Josiah slept soundly nuzzled up against my bosom.
“Tasmania,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I want my heart to remain here in Texas. I want my body cremated and my ashes scattered in Tasmania.”
It felt as though my heart had stopped. I couldn’t bear to hear him talk about his death as though it were just a matter of course. My husband, the brilliant defence lawyer and investigator that he was, the amazing father that he was, reducing his death to a mere formality that needed to be planned.
“Let’s not talk about that,” I begged.
“Please,” he said, “Please promise me you’ll honour my wishes.”
“Daniel…”
“Please, if at all possible…” he insisted.
“Okay,” I said reluctantly.
“Thank you. I love you so much sugarpie,” he said, squeezing my hand before drifting into sleep. I watched him sleep, and watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed in and out. I watched him sleep, fearing I would fall into a deep slumber and miss his last breath. I thought of all the moments we’d shared, all the moments we’d laughed togeth
er, all the moments we’d cried together. All the joy he’d brought me. I remembered how beautiful he looked to me the day we married, and how his warm and generous heart had found space to love me the night we first met all those years ago when things in my life were falling to pieces. I thought of all the tears I’d shed over him, and the empty life I’d have to lead alone.
Adalia woke me up from sleep, whimpering and groping for Daniel but when I reached out to him and reached out for him, he was gone. He’d taken his last breath, and in that moment, he’d left us. I cried a million tears.
I never would have imagined we would end up here. The day after he died, a bouquet of sweet pea flowers was delivered to me. A handwritten note stated:
Adieu my love. Thank you for the moments we shared, the beautiful babies we made and the life we led. You filled my life with so much bliss. Find happiness when I’m gone. Adieu.
David helped with the funeral arrangements. The night before, we sat together, beside ourselves. It seemed there was so much to do in such little time. I knew Daniel would’ve wanted to keep it simple. He hated frills and pomposity.
“I need to say something that’ll honour him tomorrow, I just don’t know where to start. I didn’t do a very good job of honouring him while he was alive,” he admitted, bowing his head and clearing his throat. “Now he’s gone, I hope he knew how much I admired him and how much I looked up to him,” he said, pressing his eyelids shut with his thumb and middle finger, as though that would prevent tears from falling. It didn’t. “I…” he started, before breaking off in tears.
I squeezed his shoulder gently, imploring him to lean into me. I cried with him, not having any words of comfort to offer. For there was no comfort to be had in the pain of losing Daniel. No comfort to be had in the fact that he was gone.
Sitting on the sofa that I’d shared with Daniel in the years, months and days gone past, I rested my head on David’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me. We sat for moments, pondering the day ahead and the days that were to come, without Daniel, in silence. The babies were asleep. They were much too young to realise their world had changed overnight, though I had an inkling that Adalia was very much aware that Daniel was gone. She proved my point true when she woke up crying yet again. Rocking her back and forth, she refused to settle in my arms.
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