12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
William
Running on no sleep and shitty hospital coffee left me disoriented, a condition made worse by the crash from the adrenaline high that had gotten me here. The monotonous beep and whir of machines and monitors droned in the background. The starched and sterilized odor ubiquitous to hospital air burned my sinuses. Time didn't matter anymore. Anyone with experience in the hospital knew full well the way time stretched and morphed—time between nurse visits, time between the rarefied doctor appearances, time spent waiting and waiting for nothing and everything.
My phone vibrated again in my pocket. I'd long since turned the volume off and honestly considered turning the whole thing off entirely. It's not that I didn't appreciate the support and concern. I simply didn't have the bandwidth to deal with the conversations. I could barely navigate my own complex emotions. The idea of retelling the story to countless well-intentioned callers was too much.
I was scared. I was sad. I was angry. Not at Dad, per se, but at this disease eating away at his brain and causing all these avoidable issues. The fact that he’d crashed my uncle’s car less than a mile from where Mom had lost control of her own vehicle ten years earlier during a snowstorm was some sick joke the universe wanted to make me the punchline of.
The light from the window shifted insidiously as time trudged by, sliding slick and slow over the clinical features of the room, shadows morphing and lengthening and growing into an entity of their own as the balance between natural and artificial illumination tipped. The only thing that remained unchanged was Dad’s still form in the hospital bed. His frailty was the centerpiece anchor of the morbid vignette. He was too young to look this old and my heart squeezed in my chest to the point of breathlessness.
A knock at the door interrupted my silent vigil as I spun in place to determine the source of the sound. My isolation and solitude amid the heaviness of my introspection evaporated with a gasp as my best friend stepped into the dim light of the room. I hadn't realized how terribly alone I felt until Josh appeared.
“How's he doing, Will?” Josh’s quiet voice echoed too loud over the constant buzz of machinery, chasing away my dark thoughts and churning worries.
“It's a wait and see game. The doctors are optimistic he’ll wake up, but we don't know what we’ll be dealing with when he does.” My eyes skated back toward my Dad, taking in the heavy swath of bandages around his head and the cuts and scrapes along his slack features.
“I'm so sorry. We’ll take it one day at a time.” Josh’s hand slid over my shoulder before giving it a squeeze. “Here, you need to eat.”
A McDonald's bag landed in my lap with a crinkle and a thud. I didn't think I could stomach food, but the aroma of fries and greasy burger overruled my concerns and inspired a growl in my gut that would have been hilarious if the mood weren't so somber.
“Where’s Raine and the baby?” I pried the bag open and peered at the contents before grabbing a pinch of fries.
“Raine’s on duty tonight. I left the baby with her parents so I could come up. You honestly didn't think we wouldn't come up and save you from yourself, did you?” Josh tapped my temple with a sad smile. “Always the helper, never the helped.”
A soft breath of a chuckle escaped my lips as I sank back in the uncomfortable folding chair with my bagged breakfast-lunch-dinner clutched to my chest. “Yeah, yeah. You caught me.”
The food disappeared in a robotic fashion. I neither tasted nor enjoyed it, but at least I'd eaten something. The combination of fast food and acidic hospital coffee did absolutely nothing to settle the churning in my stomach. Heavy silence burdened the room until the crinkling of the empty paper bag as I crushed it between my hands filled the air.
“So what are we dealing with?” Josh jerked his chin toward my Dad and avoided eye contact, standing solid beside me with his hand still on my shoulder.
“Concussion. Idiot didn't have his seat belt on. The car spun out on a corner and his head clocked the pillar.” I shot the bag into the garbage can and rubbed my palms down my face. “They are gonna jack his license, naturally. We have to see what the effects on his memory are when he comes to. Because of the dementia…”
“Yeah. I imagine there's going to be some complications with that.” Josh squeezed my shoulder again with a soft exhalation. “Any word on the assisted living?”
I shrugged one shoulder and lifted my hand to cover Josh’s. “We were already on a wait list. I suspect, once he wakes, that they won’t release him until a spot opens up. It's gotten too dangerous now.”
“I'm so sorry, Will. Raine and I will help however we can.”
“I appreciate it, man. More than you know.”
“Do you want me to update the crew? Raine can handle your requests for some time off so you can concentrate on him.”
My gaze lingered on my father's motionless form for a while. The reality of it all was so overwhelming, it was difficult to articulate what I was thinking and feeling. I ceded with a nod. For as hard as it was to accept the fact that I couldn't handle it all, the help was a relief.
“Yeah, please. EJ, too.” I shifted forward in my seat to rest my elbows on my knees and lace my hands behind my head. “There's so much to do and so much we don't know yet.”
“That’s why I'm here, bro.” Josh crouched down and thunked his brow against the top of my head. “One step at a time.”
We lingered like that for a long time, silent but together, until someone cleared their throat at the door. In unison, our attention shifted toward the doctor standing in the entrance.
“Evening, gentlemen. How’s our patient doing?”
“Same. No change.” My sigh carried the weight of the world.
“That’s not unexpected. The results from the most recent scans do look promising.” The doctor moved through the room, checking monitors and printouts and vitals before quietly excusing himself.
“So, you and EJ?” Josh pulled a chair closer and plopped down beside me. “Told you it would work out.”
A smile crept across my face as I shrugged. “Something had to give. I'll take the win.”
“I'm happy for you, man. Took you two long enough.” He nudged my knee with his. “Just don't be afraid to ask for help. You're going to need it.”
I grunted out a noncommittal noise and pursed my lips. It was hard not to let my lingering guilt, stress, and anxiety get the better of me when it came to EJ. A large part of me wanted to pretend it was all okay and that I wasn't juggling ten different balls and about to drop them all, especially since this thing between us was about as new and fragile as it could get.
“William,” Josh warned, eyeing me like I was the biggest idiot in the world. I guess if the shoe fit…
“Yeah, I know. I'm gonna call him later and let him know what's up. I ran out of there so fast last night.”
“Cam said his mom told Elijah when he came into the café this afternoon. Have you even checked your phone?”
I shook my head and clasped my hands against my mouth.
“You should do that. There are a lot of people worried about you.”
I relented with feigned annoyance and a playful eye roll. Josh was ultimately right—my phone was full up on notifications from dozens of people, some I barely knew. Evidently I had underestimated my network of friends and acquaintances. I ignored most of the messages and scrolled until I found the one name I hadn't realized I wanted to see so badly. One voicemail from Elijah himself was waiting to be listened to.
My finger was hovering over the button when a groan stole my attention. Movement caught my eye shortly thereafter. I was out of my seat with a gasp, rushing to the bedside to gather the bony hand of my father between mine.
“Dad? Dad, it's Will. Can you hear me?”
He stirred fitfully and groaned again before his eyelids fluttered open to reveal bloodshot, unfocused eyes.
“Welcome back, Dad.” I squeezed his hand and choked back my tears. The relief was massive, but short lived. The vacant wariness in my father’s gaze turned the contents of my stomach into noxious, churning acid.
“Dad?” I searched his weary and scraped features for any sign of recognition to no avail. My heart sank even lower when his chapped lips parted to speak in a low, growly rasp.
“Who th’hell’re you?”
I knew this day was coming. I'd known for a long time. But knowing did very little to soften the blow.
“D-Dad… it’s me. It's William.”
“Get off me.” My dad pulled his hand from my grip with a grunt and tore my heart away with the movement. We’d officially reached the most heartbreaking stage of all and I finally lost the battle as my iron-grip on my emotions faltered and tears slipped down my cheeks.
“Dad?”
“C’mon, Will. Let’s go get the doctor.” Josh’s firm hand landed on my back and gently steered me away from the bed. Instead of fighting the help, I let him guide me from the room and as soon as the door clicked closed behind us, I finally let myself crumble under the insurmountable weight of reality. My father no longer recognized me. Our already bleak future seemed even more hopeless as I choked back my sobs and leaned into the support of my friend. If it weren't for him, I doubted I could have remained upright.
“We’re gonna get through this,” Josh murmured as he held me tighter.
Speechless and stunned, I didn't bother responding. There wasn't anything that could be said in the face of this inevitable situation. The only thing I could do was weep. Mourning the loss of a parent who still lived was a special sort of pain that words would never be able to convey.