18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Cora
Though the doctor went over this procedure with me a ton of times, I still feel like I know nothing. He said they were putting him under anesthesia because they were worried how he would react to conscious sedation due to his outbursts. Local anesthesia was a definite no-go for the same reason. I’ve never been put under for anything and neither has Dad—not as far as I know. Though they assured me it’s safe, I’m scared as hell. Not only about this, but about everything. And I really want to call Kaison because he always makes me feel better, but I feel really stupid for not telling him about this. Sure, he overheard part of it, which is why he went in the back and scared Norman so badly he aged ten years, but still. I didn’t tell him, and I should have.
I’ve gotten upset with him for not telling me things about his life, for not warning me when he’s going to be caught up with club stuff, yet I’m kind of doing the same thing. How can I expect him to share aspects of his life with me if I’m not?
I’m not mad that he’s in a motorcycle club. I don’t have any bad notions about that life, him, or any of his friends and family. I don’t think he’s a bad person for it—him or any of them. I see the good they do for the town. Dad was close with some of those guys when I was younger. It was one of the reasons he was so happy to move back here. He’d said he had friends here, since it’s where he grew up. I always thought it was just an excuse, so I didn’t feel like we were moving only because of me. But I saw a change in my father when we got here, and it made me wonder why he left at all. The guys Dad was friends with, I remember them being good guys. Nice and kind. But that isn’t my issue with Kaison. My issue is… does he have room for me?
He said he did. Said it would be easier if I were his old lady. The term is odd to me, but I’ve heard it plenty of times in movies and stuff, so I know it’s a thing. Thinking about doing something so serious with him is scary. Though, probably not as scary as it should be, which I find even more concerning. The thought of marrying him doesn’t send me running for the hills. Maybe I’m crazy, but I can picture it in my head.
I hardly know him, and I would need to know him better before I ever agreed to marry him or even thought about that seriously, but I don’t hate the idea of being married. Especially not to someone like him .
Okay, obviously I’m sleep deprived and overworked if I’m thinking about marrying Kaison, someone I’ve been sort of dating for a week. Yeah, I’ve lost my mind.
“What’s going on? You okay?” Irene asks.
“Just worried.”
I’m not going into detail with her about my love-life—or not love-life. Not really sure what it is right now. There are too many emotions in my head to think clearly. About Dad. About Kaison. About myself. Life. It’s all too much right now.
“Thought maybe you were thinking about that man of yours I keep hearing about but haven’t met.”
I frown at her. “I don’t have time for a man. ”
Not entirely true, but… Dad needs to be my priority. Kaison has shown me that I have time for a man. A man like him—no, not just a man like him, but him. He’s made it so I can have time for him. My issue is the stress and emotional stuff that comes with it. I can’t handle being let down, disappointed, or anything else that fits with those. I’m barely holding myself together as is. A little more weight and I’m going under with no one to save me. I can’t do that to myself or to my father. He still needs me.
“Oh, no? Could’ve fooled me,” she says.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Only that I work as much as you do and still have a family,” she says in a slightly higher pitch, trying to make a point.
“No offense, Irene, but you don’t have a father like mine. ”
“You’re right. I don’t,” she agrees. “But if I did, my family would help out. You know, share the burden? Do what families do.”
I shake my head. “I know what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to help. I don’t have time for this.”
“If you say so.”
She shifts in her seat, opening the book in her lap and continues to read. I don’t want to think about the fact that she’s right—that Kaison would help me with Dad. He’s already proven that much. All I can think about is Dad waking up and finding Kaison in my bed and going bonkers over it.
Or how about me? What if I have a really rough day with dad, and I’m waiting on Kaison to show up, and then I find out he’s in the hospital? I won’t be able to go to him, to see if he’s okay, because I can’t leave Dad alone. That sort of stress would eat me alive. I just don’t think I’m ready for this kind of thing yet.
I’ve woken up every day since I last saw him at the diner on Saturday with a text saying he misses me. It’s adorable. Makes my stomach warm and my heart all fluttery. But is he doing this to make me forgive him or because he’s showing me he’s trying?
Dad would want this for me, I know that. But he needs me right now, and I can’t have anything in my life that’s causing me more stress than I already have.
“Miss Davies?”
“Yes, that’s me.” I get up to meet Dr. Anderson.
He gives me a small smile and my stomach drops. I know that smile. It’s not good .
“Your father is okay, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
“What kind of bad news?” I blurt out.
Irene puts her hand on my lower back to soothe me.
“Your father’s heart rate dropped dangerously low during the procedure, and it took more time than we’d have like to get it back up. Now, he is okay, like I said, but we weren’t able to complete the procedure.”
“You couldn’t do the angioplasty?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. Now, we could try it again with a conscious sedation, like we discussed, but we would have to see how he reacts to it first, meaning it would take some time.”
“I don’t know…”
“Of course, I understand. Take some time to think this over. You have my office number when you’re ready to discuss this further.”
“Can I see him?” I ask.
“Soon. A nurse will come get you once he’s settled.”
“Thank you,” I mutter, then go back to my seat, feeling like a zombie as I sit there. “They couldn’t do it.” It’s more to me than anyone else.
“There are other options,” Irene says. “You heard Dr. Anderson. Calvin is fine. You’ll see him soon. We’ll take him home, get him situated, then you can figure out what you want to do. I’m here to bounce ideas off. ”
I’m already shaking my head. “I can’t do this again. What if they try the other sedation and his heart rate bottoms out again, and they can’t get it back up?”
“That is a risk—”
“Not one I’m willing to take.”
“You have time to think about it.”
I do, but I already know what the answer is going to be. I won’t gamble with my father’s life. He’s already had too many years shaved off thanks to the dementia. Now the heart issues? I’d rather enjoy what I have left with him than risk it all ending in a week or two over a silly procedure.
The nurses said Dad would be groggy most of the day. He’d likely be tired and wanting to sleep. They said if he didn’t eat much, that was okay as long as he does so tomorrow.
Irene and I get him into the house, which isn’t easy with the steps. Physically, he’s fine to walk up them, but with him being so lethargic, he isn’t much help.
“Sure would have been nice to have a big strong man around here to carry him inside,” Irene says as she pulls out a package of ground beef from the fridge to set on the counter.
“You don’t have to cook,” I say, ignoring her comment about Kaison.
“I cook every time I’m here,” she adds .
“I know, but you don’t have to do it today. I’m here, I may as well. Actually, you can go home if you want.”
She turns to me, raising a brow. “I like my hours.”
“I didn’t say not to put them in.”
She stares at me, then smartly says, “That’s illegal.”
“I won’t rat you out. Will you?”
She huffs. “Fine. But only because I’m almost finished with that book, and I really want to know if that sweet Reese gets the girl in the end. Poor boy is hurting so bad.”
“It’s a book, Irene,” I say with a shake of my head.
She scowls at me and gathers her things. “You better call if you need me. I’m not kidding. I won’t go home right away. Going to the park to finish my book. Enjoy the peace and quiet.”
“I will call you if I need you. Promise.”
“Actually, better you call that man of yours instead.”
Thought about it.
“See you tomorrow,” I say, urging her toward the door. I don’t need her convincing me to call Kaison when I’m already on the verge of doing so.
Once she’s gone, I stare at my cell phone that’s resting on the kitchen table.
Maybe leaning on Kaison about this won’t be so bad. Maybe letting him in on all this will help. Maybe getting a feel for how things would be if we did get serious won’t hurt…
Or maybe it’ll hurt way too much, and I’ll regret it. Guess I won’t know until it happens. I have no self-control…
I swipe my phone from the table and call him. It rings and rings and rings.
He doesn’t answer.
His voicemail picks up, but instead of leaving a message, I send him a text.
I can’t get mad he didn’t answer. It’s early, and he’s probably busy. He has a life, and we didn’t have plans.
Me: Just wanted to talk. Call me when you can.
I pull out a skillet to start browning the ground beef. Irene makes these delicious, elaborate meals, but honestly, I’d love nothing more than a bowl of spaghetti and a hunk of garlic bread today, so that’s what I’m going to do.
When dinner is done, I fix a plate for Dad, which consists of me grounding up his food and adding some broth, so it doesn’t dry out. He’s been on this diet for about six months because some days he forgets how to eat and doesn’t chew well enough. This makes it easier for him. I’m not sure if he’ll wake up to eat, so I leave his plate in the microwave, then make my own and take it and a glass of wine to the living room. I find a movie to watch and eat my dinner. Honestly, the quiet is nice. Being alone is nice. I rarely get this. Usually I’m too tired to do anything. I come home after work and once Dad is settled, I get right into bed and sleep. The only times I stayed awake late was when Kaison visited .
But sitting here now, relaxing, watching TV, enjoying my dinner… I need more nights like this. Nights for just me, when I do things for myself.
I’m almost finished with my food when I hear footsteps in the hall. I glance that way and see Dad walking out.
“Hey, Dad,” I say as cheerily as I normally do. When he does remember who I am, it makes him smile.
He walks out of the shadows of the hallway, into the light of the living room. I jump to my feet, spilling food all over, when I see him clutching his chest, his face pinched into pain.
“It hurts,” he says, falling into the wall and accidentally swiping some photos to the floor.
The panic that hits me is like nothing I have ever felt in my entire life. But thank whoever is looking out for me that my body chooses not to freeze at this moment.
I hurry to his side, but not before he falls to his knees, then fully to the floor. I roll him to his back, looking all over for an injury.
“What hurts? What’s wrong?” I frantically shout.
He claws at his chest with both hands, grunting.
Phone! I need my phone!
I find it on the coffee table and with shaking fingers I dial 911, giving them every bit of information they ask for and doing exactly what they tell me to. I’ve had to call them for my father before and they always take forever to get here. Tonight won’t be any different. The only problem is, I’m not sure he has so much time.
The soft, rhythmic beeping of the machines grates on my nerves, yet it relaxes me at the same time. The beeping tells me my father is alive. I was sure I was going to lose him today.
When the EMTs put him on the stretcher, he wasn’t moving. That’s all I remember. Everything before that is a blur. I remember him walking down the hall, then nothing. I don’t remember calling Irene, but I must have because she was here a short time ago to check on us. The ambulance ride? Don’t recall that either.
All I can picture in my mind is the way he looked on that stretcher. Over and over, like a slide show of the same picture. I thought he was dead. And even though I see his chest moving now, the fact he’s unmoving otherwise has those same thoughts going through my head.
There is a knock on the door and a doctor walks in. He’s young with a kind smile. I don’t recognize him.
“You must be Cora.” He offers his hand. I take it numbly. “I’m Dr. Norwood. Your father suffered from a heart attack, as you know. The only thing we can gather is that it was due to the stress from the procedure today. There was an issue with his heart rate dropping because of the anesthesia, is that correct?”
I nod, the lump forming in my throat making it hard to breathe .
“Well, your father is a fighter. Everything with him seems just as well as it’s going to be.”
“When can we go home?” I ask.
“I’d like to keep him for observations for the night, just to be safe. But if all is well in the morning, he can go home then.” He looks past me, at the chair I was sitting in. “I’ll have the nurse bring you in something more comfortable.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying to smile, but it doesn’t really come out.
I go back to the chair and plop down, taking Dad’s hand while looking at my phone. I really want to call Kaison. I’d love a hug from him right now. Maybe all night. But if today taught me anything, it’s that I don’t have much time left with my father, meaning I don’t have time for anything else.