Chapter Twenty-Five
Rip
Adrian left early, around seven thirty, and I showered and changed and got on the phone with my agent, Ezra Green. He was bubbling, and I could picture him bouncing in his chair like a blond Energizer bunny.
“Dude, you were awesome. Congratulations. Roe and I were screaming at the set at the last second.”
I could laugh about it now. “Me too. If Denis hadn’t made that save, it could’ve been a whole other story.”
“Well, it’s not, and you’re a Stanley Cup champion. I’ve got you booked on Channel 8’s morning show at ten, Dev and Brody want you on The Huddle at one, and ESPN Hockey at three, and…” He rattled off several more names.
“Whoa, Jesus. When do I get a chance to take a piss?” I joked. “Seriously, it sounds good. Just tell me where I need to go and when, and I’ll be there.”
“I’ll send you the list. I’m really happy for you, Rip. You worked so hard for this. I know what it means to you.”
“Thanks. I still can’t believe it myself.” My phone beeped, and I frowned, seeing a call from Mercy Hospital. “I gotta go. I’ve got a call I need to take.”
“No worries. Talk soon, and I’ll send you the schedule.”
“Great.” I ended that call and picked up the new one. “Rip Tremaine.”
“Mr. Tremaine. This is Dr. Alvin Kim at Mercy Hospital.”
“Did something happen to Adrian or Neil?” My stomach bottomed out at the thought of one of them hurt. Oh shit, was it the kids?
“I’m sorry, that’s not whom I’m calling about. There’s a John Carver here who says he’s your father.”
My father? What the hell? Obviously he’d come to see the game. Conflicting emotions buffeted me. I didn’t want to care, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the man, lying hurt and alone in a strange city without a familiar face.
“What’s his condition?”
“He received a blow to the head during last night’s collapse at Blades Arena. When he arrived he was conscious, but there’s swelling in the cranium, so right now he’s in a coma.”
My stomach bottomed out. “I…see. I-I’ll be right there. What room is he in?”
“Room 428.”
“Thank you.”
I ended the call, and realizing I had commitments I could no longer make, I texted Ezra about my change of plans, citing a family emergency.
I’ll call you later and let you know what’s what.
He responded immediately.
Don’t worry about it. Hope everything’s okay.
I took off, and once I was in the car, texted Adrian, but figured he’d be in a meeting with Rob and wouldn’t be able to answer me.
The hospital was only ten minutes away, and the car had barely slowed to a stop before I was out and rushing toward the entrance.
I gave my name to the receptionist, who thankfully wasn’t a hockey fan, as I was given a visitor badge and waved through without any acknowledgment.
In the elevator up to the fourth floor, I wondered why I’d come running for a man who’d turned his back on my mother.
Maybe because at one point she had loved him enough to leave her family for him, and she’d kept me even after he left.
I followed the numbers to his room, where I found him lying in bed, white as the sheets and on a breathing machine that beeped every second.
Stunned, I sank into the chair by his bedside.
A man in a white lab coat entered. “Mr. Tremaine? I’m Dr. Kim.”
“Good morning. What can you tell me about his condition?”
“We won’t know more until the swelling comes down. His scans were normal, but we have to wait and see.”
“I understand.”
“Are you his only family member? Does he have a wife? I know he came in alone.”
I didn’t want to get into a discussion of my personal life, so I gave the most innocuous answer possible. “I think it’s only me.”
“Do you know if your father has a DNR?”
I blinked. “You mean whether he wants to be resuscitated if something happens? No, I don’t know.”
Dr. Kim nodded. “Right now he’s on a ventilator, but we’ll see if he wakes up.”
“If?” My mouth dried. “You mean…he could stay like this?” I swallowed. “Permanently?” It was inconceivable to imagine a person lying like this for who knew how long.
“Like I said, we don’t know. It’s too early to tell.” He checked my father’s chart. “I’ll be by later to check on him.”
He left, and I sank to the chair, still in shock that all this happened. Here I was, the day after winning the Stanley Cup, sitting by my father’s hospital bed. He hadn’t let me know he was coming to see the game.
You blocked his number. How would he have told you?
He must’ve bought a ticket and flown to New York without asking me to get him a seat. Something I could’ve easily done without a second thought.
But would you have?
A question I wrestled with throughout the morning, as nurses came by to check on him and he was wheeled in and out for tests. At one point, I was approached by an efficient-looking man with a clipboard.
“Are you Mr. Carver’s relative? I’m Edward Rose, the hospital’s patient-family coordinator.”
“Yes. I’m…his son.” The words felt awkward on my tongue.
“I see. Do you know what medical insurance he has?”
This wasn’t a conversation I wished to prolong. “No idea.”
The man held out the clipboard. “Are you willing to sign a DNR?”
My heart skipped a beat. “Are you saying he’s never going to wake up?”
Rose shook his head. “No, I’m just here to get Mr. Carver’s paper work in order for the administration. Only the doctors can determine that.”
I thought for a moment. “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Let me think for a while, please.”
“Of course. I’ll take care of the rest of this. Thank you.”
He left, and I finally had the chance to call Adrian.
“Hey.”
“What happened? Are you still at the hospital?”
God, it felt so good to hear his voice. “Yeah. He’s still unconscious. The doctor said something about swelling in his brain from the hit he took on the head. They’re waiting to see if it comes down.”
“I’m so sorry. You didn’t know he was coming to the game, I’m sure.”
“No. He was the last thing on my mind.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Then I remembered Adrian’s text and his early morning meeting. “What happened this morning with Rob? You said it was something amazing.”
“I almost feel bad talking about myself.”
“Don’t you dare,” I scolded. “Tell me,” I insisted.
“They’re giving me a news reporter position—real news, not bullshit or sports.” He chuckled. “Sorry, dammit. Not that sports is bullshit, but you know what I mean.”
“No offense taken. I know how much this means to you, and I’m so happy you’re getting the job of your dreams.”
“Thanks. I’m nervous but excited at the same time. Today I’m off to City Hall for a press briefing, but I’ll come to you right from work. Give me the info.”
I could hear the hesitancy in his voice and tried to build up his confidence.
“You’re gonna kill it. I have total faith in you.
” I gave him the room number. “I can’t wait to see you.
It’s hard sitting here all day just waiting and watching a machine breathe for him.
Even though we’re basically strangers, I can’t help feeling for him. ”
“Of course you do. It’s why I love you so much. You have such a big, forgiving heart.”
Did I? I wasn’t so sure.
“I’m not a saint,” I pointed out. “I didn’t say I forgave him for what he did to my mother.”
“I understand. But you and Denis have worked it out now. If you could forgive him for cheating on you, maybe you can find a way to forgive your father for walking away, not knowing your mother was pregnant.”
“I’ll see you later.” It was too much for me to think about, an overload of information I couldn’t process. I wished I could go back to the previous night, when I’d skated with the Cup. A moment of pure happiness.
The next several hours I sat with him. The doctors told me there was no change in his condition. I left for a while to have lunch and talk to my lawyer, Ethan Phillips. I wanted to ask him what my legal responsibilities were regarding my father.
“None, as far as I know,” Ethan stated. “He’s not your dependent, and you aren’t his guardian.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I didn’t know your father was in your life. You never mentioned him.”
I chewed my lip. “He wasn’t when I was growing up. Matter of fact, I didn’t know who he was. When I made it to the NHL, he popped up, and I had him take a paternity test. You know my best friend, Neil. His parents are both attorneys and insisted on it. That was before I hired you.”
“I see. What’s your relationship with him like?”
“Basically nonexistent.” I huffed out a laugh.
“He’s been calling me on and off for years, but I refused to listen to him.
On a recent road trip, he came to where I was staying and tried to explain everything about why he walked out on my mom, but I didn’t want to hear his excuses.
I still don’t, but seeing him lying in bed on a ventilator… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a sucker.”
“I’ve had plenty of clients who support their entire family, from grandparents to cousins, and others who refuse to give anyone a dime. You should do what you feel is right.”
“I wish I knew what that was.” I explained the situation, from my childhood to my mother’s death and what my father had revealed to Adrian.
“So you can see, I’m still angry and upset, but like Adrian said to me earlier, if I can forgive Denis for cheating on me and breaking my heart, maybe I can make room for one more. ”
“One thing I’ve learned is that forgiving someone often benefits the person who’s giving it more than the one it’s being given to.
You don’t have to have a close relationship with him—or one at all, if you don’t want.
But the fact that you’re having all these doubts might mean you want to be able to say those words to him. The ball’s in your court.”
“Wrong sport,” I joked but sighed. “Maybe you’re right. You should’ve been a psychologist instead of a sports lawyer.”