Shattered Essence

by NK Morales

  Megan was legally old enough to drive. Two years ago! However, she refused to learn how to drive. She had no reason to learn when she already had transportation. She said her friends would pick her up for school or she could ride the bus or take a taxi, but she rarely did. I said it once and I’ll say it again, I was her built-in taxi. The only benefit was spending time with Megan. Our drives back and forth became our time together. During these drives I was able to find out what was going on in her life. Learn about her friends, her plans, her dreams, and her goals. Even though I complain from time to time, it’s by far the best part of my day. In truth I think she just wanted to make sure I was doing okay. I also think she enjoyed our little chats as much as I did. I couldn’t believe Megan was a senior in high school. I could still remember her with pigtails and running through the back yard with her stuffed dog, Jimmy. He still resides on her bed as a watchman. Poor Jimmy was beat to hell; he’s certainly seen better days. His tail and one ear were safety-pinned to his body. He was missing his nose and one eye. His fur was completely worn out in some places. His body was limp from years of being toted around.

  Now Megan was submitting college applications and in less than a year she’d be out on her own. I hated to think of my baby girl leaving.

  One thing was certain. I didn’t spend much time dating. The thought of having a relationship scared the hell out of me. I didn’t want to bring women around Megan. I didn’t want her thinking I was a male whore. As a matter of fact I’ve only been laid once in the last two years. All I can say is, thank god work kept me busy and for hand jobs in the shower. Otherwise I’d be a madman.

  The woman I had sex with, I met in the coffee shop next to work. I had seen her several times—I even waved or said hi during a few encounters. One morning as I was waiting for my coffee she sat next to me and we started chatting. One thing led to another and we had plans for dinner. It took four dates before I had enough courage to take her to bed. The next thing I knew she came at me from left field and started talking about marriage and kids. Needless to say I ran away as fast as I could.

  I bought an espresso machine and now have coffee at home. I was looking for a little joy, a little entertainment; not marriage and a family. No way! No how! Thankfully five years after Megan was born I had a vasectomy. I wasn’t going to fall for that trick twice.

  To be fair, there were times I was lonesome. Only me and my lonely mind to keep me company. Sadly, my mind always went to daydreaming about Espe, a person I wasn’t even sure existed anymore. I was fucked up and I knew it. Allowing some chick I met when I was a teenager to own my heart, even now. There were several times I was tempted to do a background check on her. I wanted to know what she looked like. Who she was with. Where she lived. I was a sick bastard and thought about going to therapy on more than one occasion. Maybe some professional help was in order.

  “Hey, Dad.” Megan said, breaking my train of thought.

  Tapping the magazine I was pretending to be reading on my thigh. “Hey baby girl, how did it go?”

  She wrinkled her nose and handed me her driver’s test. “I passed. I missed one on the written and one while driving. The guy said I failed to stop completely.”

  “Nice! I am so proud of you.” I said as I stood up and gave her a big hug. “Although I can’t believe it took all your volleyball teammates to talk you in to finally taking the driver’s test,” I teased.

  Kissing me on the check, she said, “I can’t have you driving me to my college classes now, can I? That would be so embarrassing.”

  “Ouch!” I replied.

  “Can I drive us home?” she asked.

  Putting my thumb and forefinger together I responded, “I have to make a little stop on the way. I promised a guy I’d stop by and see him this evening for just a minute.”

  Putting her hands on her hips and rolling her eyes she protested. “Really, Dad?”

  I knew she’d complain. “I’ll let you drive us there then home if you’d like.”

  “No you drive, I should probably call your ex-wife to let her know how I did,” she said.

  We walked out of the Department of Motor Vehicles and got into my SUV.

  “Megan, she is your mother. You should respect her,” I stated.

  She responded, “I do respect her. I just don’t like her. She’s crazy. I mean really crazy, Dad.”

  Before I had a chance to comment she claimed, without taking a breath, “Last week she told me she was going to Holland to meet some prince she’d met on the Internet. The week before she told me some guy she met in Texas, when she went to visit her parents, liked her smile so much he gave her a ranch. And the week before that she told me you and she were getting back together! CRAZY!”

  “Maybe you should talk her into getting some therapy,” I responded, not knowing what else to say.

  “Really?” she asked with attitude. “It would be like me getting you to go out on a date. Impossible!”

  “Ouch!” I said before pointing to her phone. “Just call your mother.”

  After Megan got off the phone with her mom she started telling me about the trigonometry test she’d taken earlier in the day. She was still talking about sine and cosine functions when we arrived at our destination.

  “We’re here.” I interrupted.

  She was so worked up over ratios she wasn’t even paying attention to where I was taking her. It took her a minute to realize where we were. She looked at me then at all the shiny new cars surrounding her.

  “The man you’re meeting works at a car dealership?” She expressed suspiciously.

  “Yes. Now get out,” I smiled as I reached to open her door.

  I stood on the sidewalk waiting for Megan to join me. “While I go inside to find Vern, I want you to pick a car.”

  Her jaw fell and her feet appeared to be stuck to the ground. I put my arm around her shoulder. “Get moving, we don’t have all night.” I said before gently pushing her forward.

  She turned, gave me the biggest smile, and asked, “Are you serious?”

  Smiling back, I put my hands into the front pockets of my jeans and rocked back on my heels. “Deadly. Now go find your car.”

  Chapter 36

  Spring

  Espe

  It wasn’t very often I had the opportunity to be alone in the house. Spring Break was this week and Jake and the twins flew to Omaha to spend some time with his parents. Even though I knew my family was hundreds of miles away it was like they’d never left. My phone rang constantly, if it wasn’t one of the twins calling to rat out the other it was Jake calling to ask if I packed his razor or blue shirt. What good was it to send them away when I didn’t really get a break from them?

  It was ten o’clock at night when I walked through the front door. I hadn’t even taken my coat off when my phone rang. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone so I let it go to voicemail. It had been a long day at work and all I really wanted to do was sleep. I sat on the couch hoping to gather enough energy to walk upstairs. I sat listening to the stillness and the quiet of the house.

  Ten minutes hadn’t passed before my phone rang again. I was too tired to move, letting the call once again go to voicemail.

  It was Wednesday night; according to my calculations I still had three days before my family came home and a week and a half left of tax season. Before the chaos of my life returned I wanted one night where I could enjoy the peace and quiet of my home, even if I was too tired to enjoy it fully.

  I headed upstairs and instead of collapsing where I stood I took a hot shower, put on my pajamas, and literally crawled into bed. I only wanted sleep. Tax season was kicking my ass. These eighty-hour work weeks were killing me.

  When the phone rang again my mind turned it to white noise. The sound was struggling in the distance to be heard over the fog and heaviness of darkness. Sleep deprivation had me in a zombielike state. I was half asleep, half awake and wasn’t able to place the sound I was hearing. All I could envision was sleep. I’m
not sure how many times the phone rang before my brain processed that it was actually ringing. I was groggy with sleep. My mind was trying to clear the fog. I was making an attempt to get my bearings before I slid across the mattress and lifted my phone off the nightstand.

  “Hello,” I said, sounding rather froggy.

  “Are you sleeping?”

  “What time is it? Is it time to get up?” My eyelids were so heavy I was laboring to open my eyes. “Jake, my eyes don’t want to open.”

  “It’s three-thirty-three in the morning, babe. Did you have a rough day at work?”

  His despondent tone told me something was not right. It took me less than a second to shift gears.

  “What’s going on Jake? Why are you calling me at this hour?” Freaking out I asked, “Jake? Are the boys okay?”

  “The boys are fine.”

  Relief ran through me; unfortunately, it was short lived.

  “I’m in the hospital, Espe.”

  “What do you mean you’re in the hospital? Like you are there because something happened to one of your parents? Or like something happened to you?” I was trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

  “Didn’t you get any of my messages?”

  “No, I was too tired to check when I got home.” I was certainly awake now. “Why, Jake? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want you to worry. Please promise me you won’t worry,” he pleaded.

  Fear was tightening my chest. “You’re scaring me Jake. What is going on?”

  A few seconds of silence passed before I heard Jake take a deep breath before saying, “I was helping my dad’s neighbor Paul install a new carburetor in his 1957 Corvette convertible when I blacked out. Paul brought me to the hospital.” I heard another deep inhale and exhale. “They did several tests and they found a brain tumor.”

  “What?”

  “Did you say a brain tumor?” The beating of my heart was so loud, I wasn’t sure I was hearing him correctly.

  “They plan to operate tomorrow morning.”

  I was at a loss for words. My head was spinning. I was trying to process what he was saying. I heard sheets shifting and the creaking of the bed Jake was in.

  “Espe, please don’t worry, I’ll be fine. They said it should be an easy procedure.”

  “It’s brain surgery, Jake! When has brain surgery ever been an easy procedure?” I asked.

  “Espe please,” he implored, “It’s no big deal and I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  Closing my eyes in an attempt to calm down, I asked,” What hospital are you in?”

  “You won’t be able to get a flight out for a few more hours. If you drive you won’t get here till noon.” He sounded disheartened. “Babe, I just want you to talk to me for a while. Can you do that for me?”

  “Absolutely,” I replied.

  If talking to him helped ease his fear, then I’d talk and pack simultaneously.

  “I can’t believe you’ve put up with me all these years.” I heard Jake pour himself a glass of ice cubes. “I need you to know I never meant to hurt you that one night. I’ve never forgiven myself.”

  He was giggling. “Do you remember when you hit me with the can of peaches before cracking my nuts?”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “It seems like a lifetime ago.”

  Jake confided, “I lay on the floor for a while needing a reason to get up, a reason to change who I was. I want you to know I found a reason, and that reason was you.”

  “Jake, I—” he cut me off.

  Forging ahead, Jake said, “Espe, even though it may not have seemed like it at times, I’ve always loved you. I made some serious mistakes. If I could take back the pain I caused you I would. If I could do it again I’d spend my life being the husband and father I wished I could have been.”

  Interrupting, I replied, “Jake, you’re a wonderful father and a good husband.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t warm you up on nights you were cold. I’m sorry I didn’t hold you more. I’m sorry I didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved. If I come out of this, Espe, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise,” he added.

  My emotions were all over the place. I needed to clear my head and the only way I was going to manage this was if I got Jake off the phone.

  I begged, “Jake, please let me go to you.”

  “I’m going into surgery in less than three hours. I’ll more than likely be in surgery before you get here tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be there when you wake up, Jake.” I was trying to get him off the phone.

  “Ssshhhh!” he whispered, “Let me finish. Please.”

  “Jake, we’ll have plenty of time tomorrow.” I said.

  “Espe, please, I need to get this out.” He took a long sigh. “I have never lied to you. I have always loved you and I know you love me.”

  “Of course I love you, Jake,” I stated.

  Pressing on he said, “I also know I wasn’t the love of your life. How could I be? I was never a good husband. If I don’t make it I want you to be happy. I want you to find love again.”

  “Jake, please don’t talk like this. You’ll be fine and home in no time.”

  Ignoring me, he continued, “You’re going to have to make your own way. But you’ll be all right. Please don’t feel guilty or run away from love. You should be happy. I just don’t want you or the boys to forget me.”

  Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I sobbed.

  “Don’t you cry! Don’t you dare cry!” he demanded. “Don’t cry for me. Be happy for me and be strong for the boys.”

  In a fragile voice he said, “Don’t take it so hard. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. Whatever happens tomorrow is the way it is supposed to be. Make sure the boys know I’m proud of them.”

  I was crying like a baby despite what Jake had said. “Please hold on for me, Jake.”

  “Give me a kiss before you say goodbye. I’ll be thinking of you and all the wonderful times we had,” he said.

  Before I hung up the phone I managed to speak between sobs. “I love you, Jake. I’ll be leaving soon. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

  I stood staring at the clothes in my closet, trying to let everything sink in. Tumor. Blackout. Brain surgery. I didn’t want Jake to suffer. I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t want him to feel pain either. Was his time up? Was Jake insinuating he wasn’t going to make it? Why did he sound like he knew he was going to die? Was it cancer? If it was his time to go, I hoped there was a Lord waiting to welcome him with open arms.

  I was praying for Jake to be okay when I felt an unnatural calm and peace flow through me like a warm embrace. As I exhaled I instantly understood everything happening was meant to happen.

  After speaking to my mom I dialed my voicemail and listened to the messages. One from Paul telling me he had taken Jake to the hospital. Two from Jake letting me know he needed to talk to me. One from Bill, Jake’s dad, two from his sister Anna, and one from my dad telling me Jake was in serious trouble and I needed to call them back.

  I was regretting not answering the phone the first time I heard it ringing.

  If only I’d answered it. If only I’d checked my voicemail sooner, I’d be on a plane right now headed to Omaha to be with my husband. If nothing else I wouldn’t be feeling like such a slimeball.

  I managed to pack a bag, call my boss, my mom, Anna, Bill, and find a plane ticket in under an hour. When I started my car the little yellow gas tank was blinking.

  Shit!

  I got out of my car and hopped into Jake’s SUV. I immediately noticed all the Advil wrappers scattered on the passenger’s seat, the back seat, and the floor. Oh my god! This was so much worse than I could’ve imagined. The severity of the pain Jake must have been experiencing was unfathomable. I was instantly overtaken by guilt and the tears started flowing again. How could I not have noticed? The headaches, the numbness in his arm, the nausea he complained about. How could I have been so stupid not
to put all his symptoms together? Why had I not forced him to push his doctor for more than just 800mg of Ibuprofen? Why didn’t I push for a CAT scan when the Ibuprofen didn’t work? Reality set in: Jake wasn’t going to be okay.

  Four-and-a-half hours later I arrived in Omaha. Jake’s sister, Anna, picked me up from the airport and asked, “Do you want to see the twins or go straight to the hospital?”

  I knew Jake was in surgery so I opted to see the boys and Jake’s parents.

  Shortly after noon the boys and I arrived at the hospital. Jake was in recovery and only one person at a time was allowed to see him. I encouraged my boys to visit him first. When I saw Jake the first thing I noticed was the bandage on the right side of his head.

  Filling out some paperwork the recovery nurse said, “He’s quite a fighter. He’s already breathing on his own. His vitals are good and I don’t see any problem with taking him up to the ICU as soon as a bed opens up.” She glanced up from her paperwork and walked to the head of the bed. “Jake, your wife is here.”

  Jake raised his hands, curling them into fists. “Esperanza, I’m so glad you’re here.” With his eyes closed he started punching the air. He said, “Don’t worry; I have this, babe.”

  My heart sank watching him literally trying to fight. I leaned in and kissed his check while he continued to punch the air. I was with him for only a minute before the doctor came in.

  He extended his hand. “Mrs. Anderson, I’m Doctor Moore.”

  I took his hand and shook it. “Doctor Moore.”

  “Why don’t we let Jake rest,” he said leading me to the waiting room.