by Jamie Canosa
“I’m sorry.” Kiernan shook his head and the cold hardness of his face melted away. “Jade, I— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Really. It’s not you, I swear. It’s this headache. Sometimes they get really bad and they make me irritable. I can be a real jerk. I’m sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry. I should have just done what you asked. I don’t know why I had to ask so many dumb questions.” I pulled out my cell and started flipping through my contacts until I came to Caulder’s name. It didn’t take long given that he was one of only three contacts listed, besides Kiernan and my mother.
“They weren’t dumb questions. I can’t call Cal, myself, for the same reason I can’t drive myself home. When the headaches get this bad they can mess with my vision, make me see double. It makes it hard to dial a phone or drive a car.”
“Oh.” That made perfect sense, and yet it sort of terrified me. Rather than bother him with any more yammering while his head was hurting so badly, I hit ‘call’ and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Everything alright?” That was Caulder’s greeting and I couldn’t blame him for assuming the worst. I was calling him after one in the morning. And I didn’t have the best track record for late night calls.
“Everything’s fine. Kiernan just needs a ride home.”
There was a long pause where neither of us said anything.
“Is he okay?” Caulder tried to play it off as a casual inquiry, but it was impossible to miss the strain in his voice.
“Yeah. Just a bit of a headache.” Not entirely true, but I didn’t want Caulder getting himself in a wreck hurrying over, and I didn’t feel comfortable discussing Kiernan with him sitting right next to me.
Besides, Caulder would see for himself in a few minutes, anyway. Kiernan wasn’t even trying to hide the kind of pain he was in. Head tilted back against the cushions, eyes squeezed shut.
“I’ll be there in fifteen. Tell him to stay put. I’ll come up to get him.”
“Alright.”
The line went dead and I turned my attention back to Kiernan. “Is there anything I can get you? Water? I think we have aspirin.”
“No aspirin. I’ll take something when I get home. But I could use that water.”
Glad to have something to do, I sprang to my feet and scurried into the kitchen. Scrounging up a clean glass, I let the tap run cold before filling it. Kiernan was sitting up straight again by the time I returned and his eyes were open, which eased a good portion of my panicky nerves.
“Thanks.” He took the cup and downed most of it in one long swallow. “Cal on his way?”
“Yeah. He said he’d come up when he got here.”
Kiernan sighed. “He doesn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, well. He’s already driving, so I can’t call him back to tell him not to. Guess you’ll just have to stay with me until he gets here.”
“I suppose I could stand your company a little longer.”
Not long ago, those words would have hurt. They would have clawed at my heart and filled it with the poisonous venom of self-hatred. But now I listened with more than just my ears. I listened with my eyes and saw the love in his. I listened with my heart and felt the warmth behind his words. Now those words brought a smile to my lips. And that brought tears to my eyes. The good kind.
I blinked them away and settled onto the couch, snuggled up against Kiernan’s side to enjoy the end of our New Year’s celebration together. I’d had him all to myself for hours, and yet I still clung to every passing moment, not wanting the night to ever end.
But it did. Far too soon.
I opened the door for Caulder and it took him all of ten seconds to note that Kiernan’s ‘headache’ was more of a ‘monster migraine’. It took some effort on Caulder’s part to get him to his feet.
Kiernan stumbled twice on his way to the door, but assured me it was just the headache. Caulder agreed that after some rest he should be good as new.
I trusted them. After all, they knew better than I did.
***
I remember the moment the call came with crystal clarity. It was two days into the new year when my phone rang. I was busy reorganizing my closet—clearing out some of the more worn, holey stuff to make room for my nice, new clothes. I dumped the two shirts I was trying to decide between on the floor of my bedroom and snatched the phone off my nightstand, fully expecting to see Kiernan’s name on the screen. He’d been tired New Year’s Day from our late night together, so I hadn’t seen him, and I couldn’t wait to hear he was coming to get me.
But it wasn’t Kiernan’s name on my caller ID. It was Caulder’s. And I knew . . . Before I ever answer the phone I knew.
“Cal?”
“Jade, are you at home?”
“Yeah.” My heart thundered in my chest. “Wh—?”
“I’m coming to get you. Meet me outside.”
“What happened?”
“Kiernan had another seizure. They took him to the hospital.”
I opened my mouth to say I don’t know what, but nothing came out. Nothing could make it past the lump clogging my throat.
“Angel?”
I made some sort of strangled sound that he must have taken to mean I was still there.
“It’s bad.”
***
When the car pulled up in front of my building, I didn’t wait for him to get out. I jumped into the passenger seat before he’d even put it in park and we were back on the road before I could blink. Caulder drove like a bat out of hell and I couldn’t even find it in me to worry about it. All of my worry was reserved for what we’d find at the end of that wild ride.
Neither of us said a word until we were in the Emergency Room lot. I was about to hop out as fast as I’d hoped in when Caulder’s hand closed around my wrist.
“Angel . . . You heard me, right? This morning when he . . .” Cal’s jaw went rock hard and I watched his throat work convulsively. “It’s bad, Jade.”
“He’s had seizures before. I saw him have one and it looked really bad, but he was—”
“This is different. This time . . .” He dropped my gaze, staring out the window instead. When his fist hit the steering wheel, I was so unprepared for it, I let out a startled yelp. “I’m sorry. I’m . . . You just . . . You need to be prepared because . . . I don’t know if he’s coming home this time.”
The raw anguish in Caulder’s voice tore through me, stealing my breath with overwhelming pain.
“Cal?” I had to blink to see him clearly.
“Angel?” Red rimmed eyes stared back at me, everything I was feeling swimming in their depths.
“We can do this.” Biting back the pain, sniffing away the tears, I lifted my chin and looked him right in the eye. Caulder had been everyone’s strength through all of this. He’d been there for his mother, for his brother, and even for me. It was time someone give him a little strength for a change. “We can do this. For Kiernan.”
Grief turned to shock and for the longest time he just stared at me. “You’re right. We can do this. We have to do this.”
“Where’s your mom?”
“She’s inside. She rode in the ambulance with Kiernan.”
“Alright.” I reached for the door again, and this time he didn’t stop me. “Let’s go find out what’s going on, and take it from there. One step at a time, okay?”
“One step at a time. Alright. Let’s go.”
Mrs. Parks was a mess, hovering around the nurse’s desk when we walked in. Hair in knots from the way she kept running her hands through it, and mascara streaks down both cheeks, she looked like something out of a horror movie. Caulder took a shaky breath beside me and I knew their family was barely holding it together. If I focused on that—on helping them—maybe I could survive what was happening inside of me.
“Mrs. Parks?”
“Oh, Jade. Cal. You made it.” She swiped at her cheeks only making the makeup mess worse.
“Where is he?” Caulder took his mother�
��s arm, ushering her towards an empty row of hard, plastic chairs.
“They’re looking at him now. They won’t tell me anything. They just keep saying—”
“You know how this works, Mom. They do the same thing every time. No use making yourself crazy over it.” I don’t know how Caulder’s voice came out so sturdy when I knew what a mess he was inside.
“You’re right.” Mrs. Park nodded roughly. “You’re right.”
Looking for some sort of distraction, I spotted a coffee machine near the door. “Hey, Cal, why don’t you get us all some coffee, while your mom and I make a run to the bathroom?”
Approval flashed over his face and I knew he knew what I was doing.
“I don’t think I—” Mrs. Parks started, but her son cut her off.
“If anyone comes with news, I’ll come get you right away.”
“See? It’s okay. Come on.” Uncomfortably aware that I was taking on a role I wasn’t used to playing, I eased Mrs. Parks out of her seat. “Come with me. We’ll only be a minute.”
She came willingly, moving like a zombie beside me down the hallway with ugly orange and white walls until we spotted a sign for the women’s room. Setting her up at a mirror, I wet a few paper towels and handed them over.
“I’m such a mess.” She dabbed at her cheeks, scrubbing away the black stains. Cleaning up seemed to restore some of her composure. “Thank you, sweetie. I wouldn’t have wanted Kiernan to see me like that.”
“I know.” Taking a look at my own face, I decided a wet paper towel couldn’t do any harm.
“Did Caulder tell you—?”
“It was bad. Yeah, he told me.” Tossing the wads of paper towels in the trash I took a deep steadying breath.
“I’m not sure if—”
“I know. Cal warned me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Here we go.” I turned for the door, but Mrs. Parks stopped me.
“Jade . . . I just want you to know, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad Kiernan found you. I’m glad you’re a part of our lives. I don’t want that to change. No matter what happens. You understand?”
She was telling me that my membership in their family was not contingent on me being with Kiernan. That I had a permanent place with them. A home. A family. And as hard as it was to believe, I did understand that. “Yes. I understand.”
“Good. That’s good. Now, let’s get back out there before Cal drinks all the coffee.”
I laughed at her attempt at humor, though laughing was just about the last thing I felt like doing, and followed her back to the waiting room. Some time alone looked like it had given Caulder the chance to collect himself, as well. Seated in those god-awful chairs, we sipped our coffees and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
***
“Mrs. Parks?” All three of us were out of our seats before the woman in the white lab coat could make it to us.
“Yes. Yes. I’m Mrs. Parks. And this is my son. And,” she turned to me and didn’t even hesitate, “my daughter.”
“Let’s have a seat, shall we?” The doctor sat and we all huddled around her.
“How’s my son? How’s Kiernan?”
“You know Kiernan’s diagnosis.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then you know that it’s rare for someone to survive as long as he has.”
“What are you saying?” Caulder’s arm fell over my shoulders and I had a feeling it was meant to steady him as much as it was to steady me.
“I’m saying Kiernan is awake, and coherent . . .” She went on to say more. A bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo I neither understood nor cared about. Kiernan was awake. He was awake. I could see him. Talk to him. “He’s been moved upstairs to a private room and he can have visitors, but I must insist on only one at a time.”
I wanted to beg and plead to be allowed to see him, but I knew it wasn’t my place.
“Take me to my son.”
Twenty Five
We all followed the doctor to an elevator bank where she hit the button for the third floor. It was the longest elevator ride of my life and once we got there, things didn’t move any quicker. Caulder and I were deposited in an empty waiting room, with slightly nicer, puke green cushioned chairs and a small television set in the corner.
Mrs. Parks continued to follow the doctor through a set of swinging doors, as we settled in for more waiting.
“You know this doesn’t change anything, right?” Caulder’s hand dropped over my knee, which was bouncing at about a mile-a-minute. “What I said in the car—”
“He’s awake, Cal. She said he’s awake.”
“Yes, she did. But did you hear what else she said? Did you understand any of it?”
“Not really,” I admitted.
“She agrees that this time is worse. That Kiernan is worse.”
“Did she say he won’t get better?” Because that I might have noticed.
“No. Of course not. She can’t say that because she can’t know that.”
“Then neither can you.” I was sick of hearing worst case scenario. I didn’t need doomsday warnings. I needed something to cling to.
“Angel . . .” Caulder sighed, slumping back in his chair. “I’m not saying this to upset you. And I’m not telling you not to have hope. I’m just trying to warn you that this may not turn out the way everyone wants it to. I know there’s no way to prepare for that. I’ve been trying to find a way for a year. It doesn’t exist. But there will come a time when we have to face it. And if that time came, and caught you off-guard . . . I’d never forgive myself.”
“Okay.” I understood what he was telling me. I understood his need to tell me it. I just couldn’t hear it. Not now. Not when I was working so hard to build up walls to block out the inevitable. Doing exactly what Caulder was warning me not to do.
When reality hit, it was going to hit like a ton of bricks. Caulder was trying his damnedest to soften that blow any way he could, but regardless, I was going to let it completely blindside me. At the moment, that seemed better than letting the pain in before I absolutely had to.
Another hour passed before Mrs. Parks returned pale faced with a blank stare that seemed to look right through us. Caulder could have warned me seven ways to Sunday, he could have used every word known to mankind, and still not been able to tell me what her face alone did. A hard shudder ran through my body. My very soul trembled. And Caulder’s hand closed over my shoulder, turning me to face him.
“Hang in there, Angel. You want to go next?”
“No.” A deep breath did nothing to stabilize me. “You’re his brother. You should go.”
“Are you sure? I can wait if you want to see him.”
“I’m okay. You go.” With a nod, Caulder went to extract himself from the chair, but I stopped him halfway, grabbing ahold of his hand and tugging him back down beside me. “We can do this, right?”
A sad smile tipped his lips as he brushed some stray hairs from my face. “Yeah, Angel. We can do this.”
I watched him move out of the room, toward his mother. Not his usual arrogant swagger, but the resigned plodding of someone unsure they wanted to go wherever it was they were headed. Mrs. Parks pointed him down the long hallway behind the swinging doors and he continued on his way as she moved to join me in purgatory.
“How is he?” I asked, desperate to hear the answer I wanted and knowing full-well I wouldn’t.
“Not good, honey. He’s not good. He’s trying to act like he’s fine, but he’s not. A mother knows.”
“Oh.” Oh? After what she’d just told me, the best I could muster up was an ‘oh’? But Mrs. Parks didn’t seem to expect anything more. Her hand closed over mine on the shared arm rest between our seats and we slipped into mutual silence.
After another forty-five minutes, I was ready to pull my hair out. I couldn’t take it. I had to move. I had to talk to someone. Fishing my cellphone out of my pocket, I left Mrs. Parks practically cata
tonic in the chair beside me and excused myself.
I wasn’t sure she’d answer or if she even still had the old phone I had the number to, but I dialed her up anyway.
“Jade?” Her voice reached me after the fifth or sixth ring and I gasped with relief.
“Mom.”
“Where are you?”
“At the hospital.”
“The hospital? Are you—?”
“I’m fine. It’s Kiernan. His brother called while you were at the store. I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note. I just—”
“Is he okay?”
“I haven’t seen him yet.” Leaning my free hand against the wall, I let my head fall forward to stare at the tile beneath my feet. “But it doesn’t sound good. It doesn’t sound good, Mom.”
“Oh . . . I . . . Do you . . . Do you want me to come down there?” I hadn’t expected the offer, but it somehow eased some of the pressure building in my chest.
“I . . . I don’t know. But . . . Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll come. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay. And Mom?”
“Yeah, Jade?”
“Thanks.”
There was a pause before the line went dead. I took a moment to catch my breath before straightening and immediately almost fell over when I found Mrs. Parks standing about a foot away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just headed to the bathroom.”
I hadn’t even noticed that I’d practically barricaded the door to the restroom while making my phone call. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
I stepped back to let her pass, but she stopped in front of me. “I’m glad you called her.”
“I’m glad I could. Thanks to you.”
Mrs. Parks offered me a strained smile before slipping into the ladies room and I headed back to the waiting room.
Caulder returned before his mother did. “How are you feeling?”
I considered his question. There were a million different answers I could have given him, each one accurate. But only one summed up the maelstrom of emotions whipping through me. “Helpless.”