2. Ryan
2
RYAN
W hen Helen called me, I couldn't believe it. I hadn't heard from Walter in days and now I knew why. I stepped off the elevator on the fourth floor of the hospital and turned toward the nurses’ station. I'd been tense ever since I got the call this afternoon. She told me I didn't have to rush over right away, but when something like this happens, you don't wait around. I had Sam cover my responsibilities and left the dealership right away.
"Can I help you?" A polite nurse with bright eyes smiled at me as I rested my hands on the high counter. My suit jacket, clutched in one hand, was wrinkled and a bit moist from the light rain falling outside, but I never bothered to put it on. My shirt was damp now too. In my haste to get here quickly, I neglected my own self-care. Minnesota in November was cold, and now so was I.
"I need Walter Bennett's room. His wife called me." I watched the woman type on her computer, and her expression grew serious as she looked back up at me.
"Mr. Bennett is in room 4022. You have to go this way" —she pointed with a single finger— "and turn left past the drinking fountain. Third door on your right." The nurse's lips were pursed in concern, and that was all I needed to see to know Walt wasn't in a good way.
"Thank you," I told her, nodding. Clutching my jacket in one hand, I walked up the hallway, following her directions. The idea that at fifty years old, Walter could have a stroke and be on the edge of death frightened me. I knew he suffered from high blood pressure. We all had a few things we dealt with as we aged, but Walt seemed to be in good health otherwise. He ran a few times a week, and we went golfing every Saturday through the good-weather months.
I was just five years younger than him, so this wasn't just a scary moment for my best friend and his family. This rattled me too. It made me see how vulnerable I was too.
"Helen?" I said as I stepped through the door. The first thing I saw was her hovering over Walter's bed. The next thing I saw was how pale and sick Walt looked. He had tubes and wires coming out of every surface on his body. His eyes were shut, and a heart monitor beeped rhythmically, matching the clicking sound from one of the machines along the wall.
"Oh, Ryan," she sighed, and an almost whimpering sound came from her mouth. She rushed away from her husband's side and clung to me. I wrapped my arms around her reassuringly and let her soak up any comfort she could from my embrace, but my eyes stayed fixed on my best friend. He looked so weak and frail. "We almost lost him. He's not out of the woods yet."
I took a deep breath and helped her toward the sofa bed on the far side of the room. She stumbled a bit, and I noticed how sunken her eyes looked, dark circles ringing them.
"Have you eaten? Are you tired?" I helped Helen sit down and handed her my handkerchief. I had to force myself to stop thinking about how scary it was that Walter had almost died and try to think of Helen and how she was faring. It had to be scary as hell for her, not to mention lonely.
"I don't know. I had some toast. I'm exhausted, but I don't want to sleep quite yet. Carrie's coming home. She'll need me to be strong for her." Helen blew her nose in my handkerchief and then dabbed her eyes.
"Nonsense. Don't worry about being strong for anyone. You just feel what you feel, alright? This is a very scary situation. Let me be the strong one." I knew more than ever that Walter's family would need me. When he'd leave town on business or have to travel for other reasons, he always asked me to look in on them and make sure they had what they needed. I knew if he could ask me, he would be saying they needed me now too.
"Ryan, I don't know what we'll do. Walt is everything…" Helen couldn't stop crying. The tears just kept coming no matter how many times she wiped them away, and I could tell by the bags under her eyes that she'd been crying a lot.
"What happened? When did they find him?" When I got the call earlier, I never got details. Now I felt like I had to know everything.
"It was first thing this morning. I almost called you last night, but I just thought… Well, I don't know what I thought. Walt didn't come home from work. I thought he was working late. I tried calling, but he didn't answer." She sniffled and looked up at him with a pained expression. "I went to bed without him and when I woke up, it was to Jerry's call."
It turned out Jerry, Walt's general manager of his hardware store here in Evergreen Falls, had found Walt passed out behind the building. He was almost hypothermic and on death's doorstep. He was locking up after work yesterday and never quite made it. Jerry found him when he came in this morning and called the squad.
"And Carrie?" I asked, thinking of Walt and Helen's twenty-something daughter who lived out of state. She had to be frantic too. I knew the relationship wasn't fantastic between her and her parents—Walt confided in me about it several times—but I knew she'd be worried.
"On her way." Helen's soft reply came with her head drooping and a yawn. My heart went out to her. She had to be so worn out from emotion and the weight of everything.
"Thank you for calling me, Helen." I stood, but I grabbed a blanket and pillow and helped her lie down. "I'll wait for Carrie. You should rest. She'll want to spend time with you when she gets here, and you're too tired. Have a short nap."
"But Walt… I mean, I know they've sedated him, but what if he wakes up?" Her eyes searched my face, and I could only purse my lips and sigh.
"I'll stay right by his side. I'll wake you up if anything changes." My soft grip on her arm loosened as I backed away. "Please try to rest, and when you wake up, I'll go down to the cafeteria and get you something to eat."
Helen nodded and finally rested her head on the pillow. She was so tired, she was asleep before I even walked away from her side. I stood at the foot of the hospital bed watching Walter rest. He didn’t look peaceful, though. He looked like death warmed over. If they had sedated him, it probably wasn't good news. A stroke could mean anything from lasting brain damage to permanent disability or death. I was reeling over the shock of it all when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned to see Walt's only child walk into the room.
"Hi… uh, Ryan, right?"
I hadn't seen Carrie in almost ten years, though I recognized her from pictures Walter had shared with me. Walt and I were close, but that closeness only manifested after Carrie left for college. Walt seemed to withdraw from our mutual activities when she was home for visits, understandably, but even those were few and far between now.
"Yeah, Ryan Hawthorne," I told her, extending my hand. It didn't get past me how beautiful she was. A spitting image of her father, only in a much-younger and very obviously female form. Her petite frame was clothed in a striking pencil skirt and matching suitcoat. Her shoulder-length, light-brown hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and her eyes—like her mother’s—were swollen from crying. "Your dad's best friend," I added as she took my hand and shook it.
Her eyes swept over the room, and she noticed Helen sleeping on the sofa bed. "She must be worried sick."
"And exhausted," I told Carrie. "He's going to be out for a while, maybe days. Maybe we should step into the hallway so we don't wake her." I glanced at Helen, who now snored lightly, and Carrie nodded her agreement.
I followed her into the hall where the light was brighter and the smell of death wasn't so strong. She seemed tense, and I felt awkward. It was one thing to support Helen fully. Walter was like a brother, which made Helen feel like a sister to me. But Carrie was this foreign person, not close, but not at all a stranger. I knew so much about her, because of Walt's stories, and nothing at all about her at the same time.
"I'm so sorry this is happening." I shivered, realizing for the first time how cold I was with my damp shirt. So, I shrugged my coat on and tried not to look too out of place.
"I, uh… I don't know what to feel or how to act." Carrie's honesty was painful but refreshing. She looked up at my face, and I saw tears in her eyes. My God, was she stunning too, probably close to perfection in human flesh. I found myself with an overwhelming urge to pull her into my arms and hold her, to absorb the blow of this tragedy for her so she could avoid it.
"You don't have to feel anything or act any certain way. I know you love your father. It's scary. And I promised him a long time ago to take care of Helen if anything happened. You too," I added quickly. I noticed her cover her mouth as tears streaked down her cheeks.
"He can't die… I need him," she sobbed, and I followed my gut instinct.
I pulled Carrie to my chest and cradled her as gently as a child, though she was far from it. "He's going to fight this, and we're going to be here for him. I'm not leaving your side, or your mother's side. Alright? Anything you need, I'm here."
Carrie nodded her head and clung to me as if her very life depended on it. I wanted to undo everything that had happened, but I couldn't. All I could do was be here for Walter and his family because I knew they needed me.
"Thank you, Ryan, for being here."
"My pleasure, Carrie. Now, let's get you settled, and I'll get you a cup of coffee." I led her into the room and parked a chair next to the hospital bed, and when she was seated, I slipped out to find a coffee machine.
Carrie and Helen needed a rock, and I determined that to be me. Walter's family had suddenly become my family, though I couldn't look at Carrie as my daughter. It felt awkward and wrong, maybe because she was easily the most attractive woman I'd ever met, or maybe because I'd never wanted children. Besides, to assume that post meant I was conceding death for my best friend. And that wasn't something I could ever do. We had to fight for Walt to survive. None of us were ready to say goodbye.