THANK YOU
37
Jack : We’ve just checked into our hotel.
Jack : We’ll probably grab some food before we head to the hospital.
Tham : Just a heads up, dad’s awake.
Jack : Good. I’ve got things I need to get out of my chest.
Tham : We’ll be here too.
Tham : Out of the room, but we can walk in if needed.
Jack : It’ll be fine, it’ll be quick.
Jack : I’m not expecting any apologies from his part or mom’s.
Tham : They should.
Jack : I just want to put this all behind me.
JACK
“Alright everyone!” I say from my chair, my back to the front desk to face our group. “I’ve got the room keys. You drop your luggage, and come right back down,” I say, narrowing my gaze towards Nate who arches a brow in confusion. “Ikram will be in charge of buying us all a sandwich or something, and then we’ll jump in the cab that’ll be here in ten minutes.”
They all nod, their faces tired.
Maybe I should have waited a day or two instead of forcing them all to come with me on the spot…
Nate has other patients… What if he couldn’t find someone to replace him? Am I selfish for imposing this trip on them?
“You sure you’re alright?” Ikram asks when they all leave.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I sigh, forcing the smile to stay on my face.
He nods, but doesn’t look like he believes me. His hand still finds mine and squeezes reassuringly.
“I’ll drop our luggage and get us some food.” He kisses my cheek softly. “You’ll be okay waiting here?”
“Yep,” I say, popping the p. “Better if I stay here to make sure they don’t wander off to who knows where and we’re not late.”
“You know we don’t have a strict appointment, right? Tham told you we can come at any time.”
“I know. I want to get it over with.”
I force another smile and so does he.
I’m sandwiched between Prue and Ikram at the back of the cab, Evie and Nate facing us with tight faces.
Both my hands are crushed in theirs. Prue’s grasp is surprisingly strong…
The driver stops in front of the hospital entrance, but none of us move. They’re all staring at me expectantly.
“I’m not going to break, guys.”
“Yeah, yeah we know,” They all say over each other, turning embarrassed gazes away from me.
But they’re still not opening the doors, and the driver is giving me a strange look through the rearview mirror.
“Do you mind taking my chair out?” I ask him, and he hurries out of the vehicle. “Okay,” I say, exhaling slowly. “We’re going in. Prue and I will be going alone to see our dad. We’ll talk to him, and we’ll leave. Wait for us in the corridor, either with our siblings or by yourself.”
They don’t look happy about my request but nod anyway. They help me out of the car and into the chair before we go inside. We follow the directions Tham gave me to find his room, and five minutes later, as the elevator’s doors are opening, we see our three siblings sitting in a small alcove in front of a closed door.
All their faces snap towards us, and I struggle to keep my poker face intact.
They didn’t know. They’ve been lied to, just as we’ve been. The only upsetting detail is that they believed them. Let’s not make this weird.
I control my chair forward and from the corner of my eye, I see Prudence mentally struggling to follow, her hand reaching for the handle of the chair before stopping herself.
Tham stands from his chair a second before Amy and Naveen follow and we stop six feet away from them, leaving space between our two groups.
For a long minute, no one talks, the only sounds are the beeps coming from the closest rooms, nurses and doctors talking in hushed voices somewhere, codes being called from the speakers…
It feels weird seeing them again.
They… aged.
Which is normal. I’m guessing I also look older than I did ten years ago—although, a weird perk of Steinert disease is that I don’t have wrinkles. Like, at all. They look surprised by the wheelchair, though…
“I hope your flight was okay?” Tham asks casually, like it hasn’t been more than ten years since we last saw each other.
“It was fine. Although, an old woman may have drooled about a gallon on Prudence’s shoulder.” She groans and shudders next to me at the memory. They don’t take the hint of the joke though, not a smile warming their faces. I clear my throat. “He’s in there?” I ask, pointing towards the closest door.
“He is,” Tham says solemnly. “Mom’s in there too.”
“Good.” I guess .
Whatever I say and whatever dad says, she won’t take my side anyway.
With a last look towards our friends, Prue pushes me in front of the door. She knocks twice and doesn’t wait for an answer before we get inside.
Dad lays on the hospital bed, a lot of cables connecting him to different machines. His eyes are closed, but his breathing is steady. Mom is sitting on a chair next to him, reading whatever magazine was probably sitting around.
They must have paid a lot for this private room. The walls are covered with wood panels, and the furniture is minimalist but looks expensive, kind of like those weird designer stores.
Mom’s eyes lift from her magazine to us, and her whole face falls as she stands up abruptly from her seat, the thin magazine falling to the floor with a soft thump.
“Prue,” she croaks. “How good of you to come see us.”
I lift a brow, and I feel her tense behind me by the way the chair is slightly pulled back.
“I’m not here for you,” she grits out.
“Oh. Then, why have you come?”
Dad stirs, his face turning towards us, eyes still closed. Mom tenses.
“She’s here because I wanted to come,” I say calmly.
Mom won’t look at me, her eyes going warily from Prue to Dad. Whose eyes snap open at the sound of my voice.
“What’s he doing here?” He spits, looking at Prue. “Make him leave. I don’t want him here!”
I fight the urge to flinch, the need to recoil in my chair, to try and disappear within myself, but Prue doesn’t move an inch.
“Jack made me come all the way here when I’d rather have cut all my own limbs off. We’ll leave when he ’s done talking to you and not before.”
He turns, wincing at the movement and struggling to sit up. Mom rushes to help, moving the pillows to his back and adjusting the sheet covering him.
“Get out,” he grits out. “Get out! I want him out!”
“I’ll be quick,” I say as Prue tenses more and more behind me. “I’m here to thank you.”
Both of their eyes narrow in suspicion. Prue’s breath stops.
“Thank you for rejecting me. It was the best thing you could ever do. It was hard at first, realizing that my parents didn’t love me, but turns out it was also freeing. Because, in a way, I don’t remember you ever truly loving me. I’m better off now. I’m surrounded by good people. People who love me unconditionally.
“And thank you for adopting Prue, because she’s the actual sun of my life. She makes me grow, her light makes me better. She’s the purest heart I’ve ever seen. And I don’t need people like you, especially when I have her to stand by my side. You might have rejected me , but she rejected you for it.
“So thank you for both those things. For giving me the best sister I could ever hope for, and setting me free from you, because I don’t think I would have ever freed myself.”
Mom’s eyes are everywhere but on me, looking at Dad and sometimes at Prue. Dad’s face is so red it’s turning almost purple. I can almost hear his teeth grinding against each other in his mouth.
“Get out, you’re no son of mine.”
My jaw clenches uncontrollably, but my face stays calm, as collected as possible.
“I can’t bear to look at you, GET OUT!” He yells, drool sputtering from his mouth.
I can vaguely hear the door opening behind us and quick footsteps before I feel a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“I wish I never adopted you. Everyday I curse myself for it! People like you don’t deserve to live! That’s why you’re sick! God is punishing you for being depraved. What you do— what you are , it’s sinful! Unnatural! God, how I wished everyday that your sickness would have taken you away before! At least then I would have mourned you! Because now, the only thing that I’ll regret is—”
“I suggest you be really careful how you end this sentence, or not end it at all, you poor excuse of a human being!” Evie scolds calmly but loud enough to cover my father’s words, taking a protective step forward. “And you! I really hope you feel ashamed for letting that monster speak to your son like this!”
There’s a loud silence in the room, my father looking at Evie with murdering eyes.
“Shame on you people,” she adds. “All of the children you adopted deserve way better than you. Now, since I’m not one to wish people harm, I wish you a good recovery and a long life to regret all of the wrong things you’ve done and said.”
Prue leans forward to look at me and I nod. Not more than ten seconds later, we’re out of the room, our father audibly cursing through the shut door behind us. Facing us in the hallway are our three embarrassed looking siblings.
“They should never have been allowed to adopt kids,” Nate mutters from Prue’s side.
One of Ikram’s hands finds mine while the other stays on the handle behind my chair.
“I know you guys must be tired after the flight and the… Confrontation. But would you come have a coffee with us?” Naveen asks, casting a glance towards Tham.
Everyone is looking at me, waiting for me to decide. After the quick but stressful moment I’ve spent in there, I’d love nothing more but to run away and lock myself in my room. But I guess it can’t be worse, and it’ll be good to clear the air with our siblings, so I nod silently.
“I want to head back to my room,” Evie sighs sadly. “Do you mind getting the coffee at the hotel’s restaurant? So I don’t have to find a cab of my own.”
“Sure,” Tham says with a polite smile, then to me, “Text me the address, we’ll meet you there.”
All three of them leave towards the elevator, but we wait a few seconds for the door to close before we start moving.
“Thank you,” I say, to no one in particular. To all of them.
“Do you… feel okay?” Prue asks.
“I feel better. I got the closure I’ve been waiting for the last decade.”
“Those people are ass-wipes,” Evie deadpans.
“Thank you for stepping in. All of you. And Evie for giving them the scolding of their life.”
She chuckles. “Yeah. They’re lucky I spoke before Nate threw his fists around.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“Oh, please,” she cuts him off. “You were one second away from murdering the bastard.”
“I’m not a violent person,” he mumbles.
“Don’t worry, it would have been deserved,” Prue says, stopping the chair in front of the elevator to press on the call button.
“Like every single person I punched in my life.”
I see her roll her eyes but don’t add anything.
No matter what he said, my heart and head feel lighter.
That’s one thing off my list…