Chapter 7 #2
Rosalind couldn’t help herself. She got up from behind the desk and crossed the room, throwing her arms around Jane’s neck, and cried into her shoulder.
Jane just stood there frozen, holding on while Rosalind sobbed.
She wrapped her arms around Rosalind’s waist and pulled her close.
Rosalind breathed in the scent of her hair, welcomed the warmth of her skin.
She was so grateful that Jane had come that she couldn’t even bring herself to speak.
She just cried until she had nothing left to give.
Jane held on, giving her a pillar of strength. Finally, she led Rosalind over to the small couch in the corner of her office.
“We need to talk,” Jane said softly as she sat down.
“No, not right now, I can’t,” Rosalind said, fresh tears beginning to stream down her face.
“It’s about your father,” Jane said, her mouth tightening.
“Did something happen?” Rosalind asked, taking in a few gulps of air.
“No, but I did run some scans,” Jane said and took a deep breath. “Rosalind, it doesn’t look good.”
“What do you mean?” Rosalind asked, trying to find any ounce of strength left in her body.
“Your father’s condition has deteriorated rapidly,” Jane said. “His brain scans are well past anything we expected.”
“What are you trying to tell me, Jane?”
“Rosalind, I don’t think your father is going to be leaving the hospital,” Jane said, and her voice cracked.
Something broke inside Rosalind with the news, and though she would never admit it, it came with a sense of relief, of finality. “Are you… Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Jane said, her eyes misting over.
Rosalind nodded slowly, she hated herself in that moment.
She hated how vulnerable she felt. She hated the relief that poured through her that this was almost over.
She hated that she was glad her mother would be safe again.
It felt wrong, like she was betraying the only man she’d ever really cared for, but there it was.
“Go get some sleep, Rosalind,” Jane said and squeezed her hand. “Tomorrow is probably going to be a rough day.” Jane gave her hand one last squeeze and stood up. She gave Rosalind one last glance before walking out the door.
Rosalind was out of tears; she was out of everything. Every last emotion in her was spent. She trudged her way to the on-call room and didn’t even bother to take off her shoes. She fell down onto the cot that still smelled of Jane and fell hard asleep.
She woke up, abruptly sitting upright in the bed.
She was completely disoriented, but she knew something was very wrong and needed to be fixed.
As her mind began to catch up with her, the helpless feeling washed over her again.
She got up and headed to the shower, taking a quick one and throwing on a set of scrubs—that’s what she was most comfortable in anyway.
She went first to check on her mother, but to her surprise found that she wasn’t in her room.
She headed down to find her sitting by her father’s bed in a wheelchair, holding his hand and gazing at him fondly.
Rosalind knocked softly on the door before going inside.
She walked over to her mother and squeezed her shoulder. Her mother looked tired but resigned. Jane must have told her the prognosis.
“Doctor Roberts says he might regain consciousness for a while,” her mother said, her voice cracking. “There’s no way of knowing if he will even know where he is when he does, though.”
“That’s true,” Rosalind responded. “Maybe we will get the chance to say goodbye, though.”
“Is it horrible of me to hope that he doesn’t?” her mother asked, a tear slipping down her cheek.
“No, Mom, it’s not. We don’t want him to suffer any more than he already has,” Rosalind said. “We can hope for the best, but if he doesn’t wake up, that may be better than waking up and not understanding anything that’s happening.”
Her mother nodded, but Rosalind knew that she was feeling those same guilty feelings that Rosalind had harbored the night before.
“You’re stronger than you realize, Mom,” Rosalind said. “We will get through this. It’s the price we pay for the people we love.”
“It’s worth that and so much more,” her mother said, and Rosalind’s throat threatened to seize.
Her father started to stir on the bed, and both Rosalind and her mother tensed. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at the two of them. “Bethany? Rosie?” he croaked. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Robert? Is that really you?” Rosalind’s mother said, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.
“I can’t remember, I can’t remember anything,” her father said, tears of his own sliding down his cheeks.
“This is it, isn’t it?” he said. Rosalind wasn’t sure if he really understood what was happening, but maybe this was it.
Maybe this was the universe trying to show her that sometimes good things can happen.
They talked for an hour, almost as though the last year had never happened.
Robert Maxwell seemed to understand that he was on borrowed time, and they just held on to him as long as they could.
No one knew how long this would last, or when his mind might start slipping again, but it was one last opportunity for them to see him as the man he once was.
The occasional nurse would come in and check on him, but mostly it was just the three of them, and Rosalind couldn’t have been more grateful.
She thanked whatever deity was responsible again and again, relishing in the short reprieve that they were granted.
Eventually, he began to tire, and Rosalind excused herself with stern warnings for the nursing staff that they keep an eye on him and her mother.
She wanted to give them one last opportunity together before they had to let him go for good.
Rosalind went to the cafeteria again and grabbed a coffee.
She was so completely exhausted but felt better than she had since arriving in Phoenix Ridge.
When she went back to the room, she saw through the window that Jane was in there talking with them.
Her father was smiling, and something welled up inside Rosalind.
Jane was smiling down at him, though Rosalind couldn’t tell what they might be discussing.
Her mother was all smiles, also, and she waited by the door as Jane finished up what she was doing and left the two of them alone.
“How’s he doing?” Rosalind asked as she came out the door.
“He’s slowing down,” Jane answered with an empathetic look. “But he’s still himself.”
“That’s good,” Rosalind said, grateful for the reprieve. “How long does he have?”
“I can’t say,” Jane answered honestly. “A few more hours, maybe less.”
It stung, but these last few hours of her father back was all worth it.
“He certainly thinks highly of you,” Jane said. “He regrets that you had to come home for his sake.”
“Well, did you tell him that I wouldn’t have met you if I hadn’t?” Rosalind asked with a slight smirk. She wasn’t sure how Jane was feeling about the two of them, but she wanted to at least try and fix her flub from before.
“I think you’ll have to be the one to tell him that,” Jane said, her mouth forming a flat line. Rosalind hoped she would be able to get through to her again, but right now she needed to focus on this moment. This last little while that she had left with her family.
“Thank you,” Rosalind said, and she meant it. “Thank you for everything.”
“I can’t take credit for this,” Jane answered. Rosalind reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “You need to go be with your parents.”
Rosalind nodded and pushed the door open, heading back into the room. Her father smiled at her, and Rosalind thought her heart would explode.