The Family Doctor

by Bobby Hutchinson

  “What should I call Grandpa’s friend, Papa?”

  Tony had carefully explained that Ford was bringing a lady who’d been his best friend for many years.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe you should ask her.”

  They watched the streams of people coming through the doors at the arrivals level. When a tall, emaciated old man and a short, plump woman pushing a luggage cart hesitated and then hurried toward them, Tony had to hide the terrible sense of shock he felt at his father’s appearance.

  The strong, handsome man he remembered was stooped, his bony face lined and sunken. He was bald and his skin was yellow, and he had a look about him that Tony had seen numerous times in patients. He didn’t want to recognize it in his father’s face, but his medical experience left him no option.

  Ford was terminally ill.

  Tony felt as if he’d been sucker-punched. Emotions coursed through him—anger, frustration, overwhelming sadness. An aching sorrow that so much of their lives had been spent far apart. A feeling of urgency that this short time they had must be spent getting to know each other again.

  He struggled for a shaky smile to welcome Ford and his companion.

  “Tony?” Ford’s voice was not the hearty baritone that Tony remembered. It was weak and trembling with emotion. “Georgia, sweetheart, how lovely you are. And this pretty lady must be McKensy.”

  He embraced Georgia, and then McKensy. “Ah, it’s a rare treat to see all of you. A million thanks for coming to meet us.” Ford had dropped the small bag he was carrying and now he held his arms out to Tony.

  Tony walked into his father’s embrace, and had to struggle to hold back the tears. Ford’s body felt fragile in his arms. He was seventy, but he looked a decade older. The only part of him that hadn’t seemed to change was his smile. Being in his father’s arms unleashed in Tony a deep and abiding love, a love that overwhelmed him with its raw power.

  Ford’s tears ran freely down his wrinkled cheeks as he hugged first one of them and then the other again and again. Betsy was introduced, and once more there were warm, welcoming hugs all round. Her liquid dark eyes and beaming smile telegraphed the warmth of her personality, and her love for Ford was evident in the way she held his hand and matched her step to his slower one as they made their way out to the car park.

  “Papa said I should ask you what you want me to call you,” McKensy said in a shy voice to Betsy. Without waiting for a reply, she burbled on, “I already have one grammy, so maybe I could call you Grandma Betsy, would that be okay?”

  Betsy stopped and put an arm around McKensy’s shoulders. Her deep, dark eyes glowed with pleasure.

  “I would consider that a great honor,” she said in her singsong accent. “I don’t have grandchildren, so you’ll be my very first.”

  McKensy turned pink with delight.

  There wasn’t room for all of them in one vehicle. Georgia had brought her car, and after a bit of discussion it was decided the women would go in one car, the men in the other.

  The Barclay Hotel, where Ford and Betsy were staying, was on Robson Street, in the heart of downtown Vancouver, an hour’s drive from the airport. As he threaded his way through the heavy morning traffic, Tony felt suddenly awkward with his father. It had been so many years since they’d been in each other’s company. Tony had been a boy of eleven, Ford a young and vibrant man of thirty-eight. There had been letters, but in spite of them the years were hard to bridge.

  “McKensy’s a bonny girl,” Ford said. “Meeting my grandkid is a dream come true.” He paused. “I’d guess that this visit is causing you and Georgia grief with your mother. I’m sorry about that. The last thing I want is to cause you problems.”

  Caught between loyalties, Tony couldn’t think what to say.

  “See, I had to come now, Tony.” Ford’s voice was urgent. “I wanted to come before, but there was never enough money. There isn’t now, either, come to that, but time’s running out for me.”

  Though he was a doctor, Tony still didn’t want to hear the fateful diagnosis confirmed.

  “Astroblastoma, you doctors call it,” Ford said. “Fancy name for brain cancer.”

  “You’ve seen specialists?” Tony asked, struggling to remain calm.

  Ford laughed. “Too bloody many of the bastards, begging your pardon, son. They operated six months ago. Thought they’d got it all, but now the demon’s back, headaches again, blurry vision. They suggested radiation, but I said no. Rather see it through my own way this time. I’ve had a good run, all told. Only thing I regret is leaving all you nippers the way I did.” He cleared his throat, and Tony could hear the anguish underneath the quiet words.

  “And Betsy, I’ll hate like blue hell leaving my Betsy.” Ford’s voice had thickened, and he cleared his throat and turned to look out the car window, struggling not to break down.

  Tony was having his own difficulties as he fought against the tightness in his chest. “She seems like a fine lady, Dad.” They both needed a bridge back to safety. “How did you two meet?”

  “I was working on a sheep station, she was cooking. She’s a real fine cook, is my Betsy. Anyhow, I got sick, real sick, some kinda tropical fever. She took care of me. We’ve been together ever since. I don’t know how I’d have made it without her.” He was quiet for a moment. “I know you went through that divorce, son. It must be hard for you, raising McKensy on your own.” His voice was hesitant but determined. “You never say, and I always wonder. Tell me, Tony, is there anybody like Betsy around for you? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just that there’s so much I don’t know about you. So much I want to know.”

  Kate’s face sprang into Tony’s thoughts, and he felt the familiar emptiness. “There’s a woman at the hospital. But things didn’t work out for us.”

  “Sorry to hear that, son. Have you tried to fix it up with her?”

  “Yeah, I did. I hit a dead end.” He’d gone over and over that final meeting with Kate, and he still couldn’t see how he could have handled it any differently. He’d seen her at a couple of meetings over the past several weeks, and they’d been polite and distant with each other, which hurt more than if they’d fought.

  “Dead ends happen to all of us, son. I know you didn’t ask, but I’m handing out advice, anyhow, not that I’ve got any right to. Just give it another try, why don’t you.”

  Tony nodded, although he knew there wasn’t any hope.

  Ford took the nod as agreement. “Good lad. It hasn’t always been clear sailing for Betsy and me, y’know. We’ve had our times when it seemed we couldn’t go on, too. But when you care enough, your heart has a way of forcing you to do things you wouldn’t otherwise. When you love someone, there’s always another chance. See, lad, Betsy wanted to get married, wanted it real bad. Her family turned their backs on her—wouldn’t countenance her living in what they called sin. Real sticklers for right and proper, they were. And I couldn’t get a divorce, though I asked your mother many times.”

  Ford sound resigned rather than resentful. “I could’ve fought it out in court, but it would’ve cost more than I could afford. And I figured you young ones would be the losers, because money that should have come to your mother for your support would be lining the lawyers’ pockets. So Betsy and I never did get married legal. We never had kids, either, another thing she wanted real bad. We didn’t want to bring a nipper into the world a bastard, us not being married and all. So a couple times it seemed as if there was nowhere to go except our separate ways.”

  “But you worked it out.”

  “Yeah, we did. Neither of us could live without the other.” The admission was matter of fact. “That’s the test, Tony. If life isn’t worth living without the other person, then you gotta move heaven and earth to make it work. In the end, love’s the only thing that matters.”

  Love’s the only thing that matters. Ford’s words stuck in Tony’s mind as he and Georgia made certain their father and Betsy were comfortable at the hotel. Before Tony left, he arranged
to pick them up for the family dinner he was hosting at a downtown restaurant at seven that evening—a dinner that, so far, only he and Georgia and McKensy were attending.

  Tony was sick to death of the controversy in his family. Trusting in the truth of Ford’s words, he phoned first Judy and then Wilson, shamelessly using blunt honesty and heavy doses of guilt to persuade his siblings to come to dinner that evening. He told them both that Ford was dying, and probably didn’t have much time left. Their father’s single wish was to see his children and grandchildren.

  “Let’s try to put aside our differences just for this one night,” he pleaded again and again.

  As he’d suspected she might, Judy changed her mind and agreed to come, bringing her husband, Peter, and their two children, but Wilson refused.

  “He’s nothing to me,” he blustered. “Our mother’s the one who raised us. Why make a big fuss over a guy who walked out on his kids and his wife? So he’s on his last legs—maybe he’s getting what he deserves out of life.”

  Tony had learned so much from Kate. He remembered her saying, “Don’t defend, just stick to your point and reiterate if necessary.”

  “We’ll be at the restaurant at seven,” Tony repeated through gritted teeth. “If you and Margaret change your minds, you’re most welcome to join us.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  THE RESTAURANT TONY HAD chosen was Italian, since Ford had said that his favorite food was veal scallopini, and Betsy loved pasta. It was a good choice for a family dinner, because children were warmly welcomed.

  Tony had arranged with the manager for a semi-private location in an alcove, and Judy and Peter and their children were already seated when he arrived with Ford and Betsy. Georgia had brought McKensy.

  Obviously ill at ease, Judy got to her feet and went over to Ford, stiff and awkward. He drew her into his embrace, and when he released her, she was crying so hard Tony had to introduce his brother-in-law, Peter, and his niece and nephew.

  They were all enjoying a glass of wine when Georgia leaned over to Tony and whispered, “I don’t believe it, Wilson and Margaret just walked in, and the kids are with them.”

  Tony, too, could hardly believe it. His brother, red faced and avoiding Tony’s eye, went over to their father and shook his hand.

  “I’ll bet Margaret made him come,” Georgia said in an undertone as her sister-in-law introduced her children to Ford and Betsy, and politely welcomed them to Canada. “Good old Maggie,” Georgia gloated. “She’s the only one who’s ever been able to make old rod-in-the-ass do anything.”

  Wilson’s reasons for coming didn’t matter to Tony. All he cared about was the incandescent pleasure on Ford’s face as he lifted his wineglass and toasted his family.

  The meal took on the atmosphere of a celebration. While they waited for the food to arrive, Betsy opened a large carryall she’d brought and distributed gifts to the grandchildren. She and Ford had obviously given careful thought to each one. No two children received the same gift, and each was age and gender appropriate.

  McKensy received a koala bear whose belly contained a tape player.

  “This is way cool,” she enthused. She sprang to her feet and rushed over to hug Betsy. “Thank you, Grandma Betsy,” she caroled. She hugged her grandfather as well, and her cousins followed suit.

  Betsy and Ford were mobbed by children, and obviously loving every moment. Georgia took out her camera and snapped pictures, and the noise level increased.

  So did the laughter. Everyone relaxed, and by the time the salads were eaten and the main course arrived, it seemed that the party was well on its way to being a total success.

  Tony looked around the table at each of his siblings and their partners, and then he glanced at his father.

  Ford and Betsy were leaning toward each other, and Betsy was saying something into Ford’s ear. The two of them looked at each other and laughed with the intimacy only lovers have, and Tony’s aloneness suddenly overwhelmed him.

  He imagined Kate sitting beside him, sharing in the pleasure he felt, sharing also in his amazement at this unbelievable spectacle of his brother and sisters all getting along for once.

  The moment he got home tonight, no matter what time it was, he’d call her. His father was right about trying again.

  Making the decision lightened Tony’s spirits, and he smiled with anticipation when Ford got to his feet to make a speech.

  Ford teetered for a moment, and Betsy reached out an arm to steady him. Alarmed at how pale and drawn Ford looked, Tony decided that the evening should end soon.

  “Quiet, everyone,” Wilson ordered in an authoritative voice.

  “I just want to say how much it means to me to have all of you here,” Ford began. “I can’t take credit for being around to raise you, but you’re a family to be proud of.” His breathing was shallow, and he gulped for air before he managed to say, “Thank you for coming tonight, and I hope—” He gasped and leaned a trembling arm on the table, and then tried again. “I—I hope—”

  Tony leaped to his feet as Ford staggered and began to fall. Betsy tried to support him.

  Georgia grabbed his arm, but Ford was still a large man. He went crashing down, dragging the tablecloth with him. The floor was tile, and the sound of glass shattering brought waiters running.

  Judy screamed, kids began crying, and Tony knelt over his father, searching for a pulse and undoing his tie.

  “Wilson, call 911,” he ordered. “Georgia, go out to my car and get my medical bag.” He tossed her his keys.

  “Please don’t let him die, not now, not yet.” Betsy was kneeling beside Ford, her body trembling, her round face ashen. Her dark eyes pleaded with Tony, begging him to perform a miracle.

  As much as he longed to, Tony couldn’t supply it. But for the next fifteen minutes, until the ambulance arrived, he did everything he knew to keep his father alive. And for the first time in many years, he prayed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ST. JOE’S EMERG WAS uncharacteristically quiet. Tony briefed the ER doctors on what little he knew of his father’s condition, and Dr. Suchanek, the hospital’s leading oncologist, was called.

  Ford was conscious by this time, but extremely weak and disoriented. It was Betsy who gave Suchanek detailed information about the operation Ford had had in Australia. He’d been on drugs, she said, but he wasn’t taking anything at the moment.

  Tony’s entire family was now at the hospital, and it was obvious that the children were exhausted, the adults weary and anxious. After the initial examination in the ER, Ford was taken to the Intensive Care Unit, and Tony suggested everyone go home.

  “Betsy and I’ll stay with him tonight. If there’s any change, we’ll let you know.”

  Georgia offered to drive McKensy home. “If Mom asks how it went, what should I say?”

  “Tell her the truth.” Tony sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “She knew tonight was the dinner. She was in tears most of the day, and when I left, she was locked in her bedroom. She might as well know what happened.”

  Georgia shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Think she’s ever gonna grow up?”

  Tony ruffled his sister’s hair and bent to kiss her cheek. “All we can do is hope.”

  AS THE NIGHT WORE ON, Ford’s condition slowly improved. He grew aware of his surroundings and was able to talk a little as the long hours rolled toward morning.

  It was evident how worried Betsy was about Ford, and Tony was amazed and humbled by how cheerful and optimistic she stayed. She told Tony a little about the simple life she and Ford led, and she showed him photos of their modest house in a Brisbane suburb.

  “See, here on the wall, these are the photos that you sent over the years. He hung them up in the living room,” she confided. “He’d show each new one to our friends, he’s so very proud of all of you. Leaving his kids behind when he came to Australia left a big hole in his heart.”

  “Do you have any family you’re close to,
Betsy?” He remembered Ford saying her immediate family hadn’t approved of their relationship, but maybe there was someone.

  She shook her head. “My parents died long ago, and my brother and sister live in New South Wales, I don’t see them much. Ford’s my family, I reckon. We have good friends, but basically there’s just the two of us.”

  Tony thought of how much this woman had given up to be with Ford. When his father died, Betsy would be totally alone, and yet there was no sign of resentment in her. At this moment, Betsy was in a strange country with people she didn’t know and a companion who was terminally ill, and still she retained her good nature.

  It was hard not to compare Betsy with his mother. Dorothy had the support and love of a large family, but she spent much of her time being miserable. Maybe happiness was a choice made fresh every day. Tony silently vowed to choose more of it.

  Toward morning, Ford improved dramatically. When Bob Suchanek arrived at 6:00 a.m., he left orders that Ford be moved out of ICU.

  “I’m trying him on Decadron again,” he told Betsy and Tony. “From what you’ve told me, Mrs. O’Connor, he got a significant reprieve the last time he was on it. Maybe we’ll be lucky again.” He paused, and Tony could tell that what Suchanek was about to say wasn’t good news. “He’s been having headaches, ataxia, pain in his joints. I’ve ordered some tests, because I’m afraid the tumor’s metastasized into the bone. If it has, we could try radiation—”

  Betsy shook her head. “He doesn’t want it.”

  Suchanek nodded. “He told me that. So we’ll put all our faith in the Decadron.” He took Betsy’s hand in both of his. “The very best of luck to you both, Mrs. O’Connor.”