22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cora
I’ve never been to Kaison’s house, but he told me where it was before. It’s not difficult to find since I see the bike out in the yard. I knock on the door, but he doesn’t answer. When I peek in through the window, I see him asleep. I try the door, and it’s unlocked, so I head in, leave the food on the counter and dig through his drawers for paper and a pen. I feel weird going through his things, but I’m not doing it for a bad reason. Just want to leave him a note.
Enjoy the food. Hope you feel better. Call me later.
It’s not that I’ve changed my mind about Kaison. I still don’t have time to deal with him, Dad, and my job, but he needs some help right now and I can help him while keeping boundaries.
When I leave, I make sure to lock the door, then head back to the diner to finish my shift .
By the end of it, I’m exhausted. Though my feet feel better, thanks to getting new shoes, my back isn’t any better and I wonder if I should go for a massage or to the chiropractor. I finish up everything I need to do at the diner, then head home.
Dad is in another great mood. We have a late lunch out in the yard at his request. Though he seems a little confused about some things, he’s better than he has been in a long time. He’s never been lucid for so long before. It worries me, but each time the fear crawls up my spine, I push it away. I want to enjoy this. There isn’t a hidden meaning behind it. It’s just part of the disease. Some days are bad, some horrible, some near unmanageable. But some are also good and others great. And as time goes on, those great ones are less and less, meaning I have to enjoy them when they’re here. I can’t let my stupid fears take away from this.
It’s early evening, and Dad and I are sitting on the porch swing, staring out at the dark road. The nurse left, so it’s just us.
He puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side. I sigh happily.
“Honey, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure, Dad,” I say as my eyes fall closed. I swear I could sleep like this. The chilled air around me, the soft rocking of the chair, my Dad holding me. I’ve never felt so safe. Okay, not entirely true. I feel safe with Kaison too.
“I know there’s something wrong with me.”
My body runs cold, my eyes jerk open, and I sit up .
He gives me a soft smile, folding his hands together in his lap.
“It’s a strange feeling, you know?” he continues. “All this time is lost in between thoughts. I feel like I’m here one minute, things are dark, then here I am again, but it’s like weeks have passed.”
“Dad…”
“Let me finish, honey. Please.”
My throat tightens, and I force a nod because words aren’t leaving my mouth even if I needed them to.
“I love you, and I appreciate you taking care of me. Everything you’ve done. I can see it, you know? Even if it isn’t for long, but I know it. You’re the best daughter a dad could ask for, even if I didn’t want you in the beginning.” He chuckles, causing me to laugh a little too. It always was a joke with us. He falls silent for a bit, and all I hear are the chirping crickets and the creaking of the swing.
“Don’t stop living your life for me, Cora. Don’t do it,” he says firmly, choking up. “I don’t want that for you.” As if those words aren’t bad enough, aren’t making me want to cry a river, he looks me right in the eyes and adds, “Why do you keep me here?”
“What?” I say without even thinking. Why wouldn’t I keep him here? God, my chest hurts. My head hurts. My vision is fuzzy. There are tears in my eyes.
He shakes his head. “I love you, Cora, with my whole damn heart, but you’re a young girl. I mean, when’s the last time you went on a date? ”
“I had a date the other day,” I say, wiping my eyes.
“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asks like he doesn’t believe me. I hold his gaze and he raises a brow.
“Here,” I say quietly, knowing that isn’t going to be satisfactory.
“I promise I won’t be mad at you for wanting to live your life. I want you to. Get me out of here, Cora. Don’t let me be a burden on you.”
“You’re not a burden,” I say sharply.
He shakes his head again, looking out at the road, seeming disappointed.
“Dad…” I take his hand. “I love you, and I love taking care of you. I want you here with me.”
“I don’t want to ruin your life. You deserve to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I say adamantly. “Yes, I’m a little stressed out sometimes, but who isn’t? That’s life. Look, we don’t know…” I stop and swallow, unable to say what I want. “This disease, it’s… I just want you here with me for as long as possible, okay?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks, holding my gaze.
“Yes.”
He sighs, squeezing my hand. He swings his arm around my shoulder again, pulling me to his side. “Then promise me if it ever gets too hard, you’ll put me in a home.”
“I promise.”
I say the words, but I don’t mean them. I can’t imagine sending him anywhere. He’s going to be where I am until his dying day. Or mine, if it comes first, I guess. Because anything can happen.
We don’t speak again after that. I eventually nod off, and am woken up a short time later to Dad telling me to get to bed. We head inside, I lock the doors and help him get ready for bed even though he tells me he’s fine. He kisses my forehead, tells me he loves me, and gets into bed. I go into my room, change, and before I plug my phone in, I stare at it, wondering if I should text Kaison. Dad’s words keep repeating in my head. About living my life. About it being what he wants. I get that, and I appreciate it, but I can’t. Dad doesn’t know what it’s like, and there’s no way I would ever tell him. He doesn’t need to know that I dumbed down what it’s like. I don’t want him feeling guilty.
I open the text thread with Kaison and scroll through our messages. We chatted a little bit back and forth earlier. He told me when he was awake, thanked me for the food, asked how me and Dad were. I told him about the heart attack, because I hadn’t done that yet. Things have been hectic. Of course he showed how amazing he was by asking a million questions, showing me he cares. And he didn’t just ask about Dad, he asked what I was doing for myself.
I scroll up more, looking at all the texts of him telling me he misses me and wants to see me. It makes my chest warm, knowing he has feelings for me. I have feelings for him too. It’s strange, but it’s there. Some weird connection we have that I can’t explain. We fit together just right. I guess sometimes that just happens. If I put time and effort into this, it could be something good. We could work through the issues we have and make a life together… but I can’t. I have too much going on, too much to risk. Maybe Kaison and I will meet in another life. That’s the best I can hope for.
I’m dreaming about hospital machines beeping, Dad lying in the bed, unable to breathe. No one is helping. I’m glued to my chair, screaming and trying to get up, but I can’t. Nurses and doctors walk by, but no one comes in. No one hears me. No one helps. I watch in horror as my dad chokes, gasps for air, clawing at his neck as if some invisible force is choking him. Tears pour down my cheeks, my heart is pounding, I’m going to be sick.
Why won’t anyone help him!
I use every muscle to try to get up from the chair, but it’s useless. The beeping gets louder, closer together. The tone changes from the soft beep to a harsh, shrill sound like a fire alarm, causing my ears to hurt. I suck in a sharp breath, trying to catch my breath after screaming so much and I start choking too. Suddenly, the room is filled with smoke. I can’t see. I can’t breathe.
“Dad!” I call. “Dad, where are you? ”
More choking. Coughing. The beeping. That freaking beeping! It’s driving me crazy. Why does it sound like that? Why is it so loud? Why is it—
I jolt up, choking and blinking my eyes through the smoke. Though it’s dark, I see the smoke pouring in under my door and the flickering flames on the other side.
Untangling myself from the sheets, I fall onto the floor and crawl to the door. Everything I know about staying safe during fires is out the window as I grasp the handle and yank it open. If it was hot, I didn’t feel it. I army crawl as quickly as I can down the hall to Dad’s room.
“Dad!” I call between choking. “Dad, wake up!”
I get into his room and don’t see him in bed. It’s empty and made.
No…
I’m on my feet, grabbing a throw blanket from the foot of his bed to cover my mouth and nose and run out into the hall and into the kitchen. The fire is blazing in here, so bright I can hardly see, so hot I’m sweating.
“Dad! Where are you?”
I drop to the floor, and even though the flames light the room up, the black smoke makes it nearly impossible to see. I crawl forward, ignoring the heat of the fire to find my father. He has to be here somewhere!
By sheer luck, I spot his foot and quickly make my way toward him. The flames are so loud I can’t even hear myself think. I stand, dropping the blanket and grabbing his feet to drag him out of the house. He’s unconscious, he isn’t breathing, and there are burns everywhere. Oh my god, I don’t even know if he’s alive! I get him onto the porch, the outside pitch black. I’ve no idea what time it is, but I do know there are no neighbors close enough to call for help. If I don’t get my phone, there’s no way I can call this in.
With Dad on the porch, I run back inside. It’s my only chance at getting help. The fire is loud, hotter than it was before. Blindly, I make my way to my room, manage to grab my phone and duck back out of the house. I grab Dad and drag him across the yard to the road where I call 911.
“911, where is your emergency?”
I rattle off the address, shouting about a fire and my father not breathing.
“Ma’am, help is on the way. Is your father breathing at all? Are there burns on his chest?”
“No, I don’t think so. Mostly his arms and his face.”
“I need you to start CPR right away. Do you know how to do that?”
“Y-yes. I’ve never done it before, but I know how.”
“Okay, put the phone on speaker. Do not hang up. Put your hands together, one on top of the other, link your fingers. Find the center of your father’s chest and press down hard and fast. I’ll count for you. Press down on each count, okay?”
“Yes, okay!” I get my hands together after putting my phone in the grass. It takes a few tries because they’re shaking so much, but once I mange, I start the CPR, using my whole body to push down. I go along to the beat of the operator, my entire body trembling. I’m coughing. My lungs hurt. My mouth tastes gross. My eyes feel weird. Everything is wrong.
I keep going, my body getting more tired as time goes. Every now and then, the woman on the line tells me to stop to give breaths. Check for breathing and a pulse—he doesn’t have one.
I’m panicking, but all I can do is keep pushing on his chest, keep praying he’s going to wake up and be okay. Keep hoping that I’ll have just one more day with him.