Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
The hum of the hospital’s track lighting was the only sound Alex registered. He was sure there were others. Nurses conversing down the hall, the squeak of shoes on tile, the rattle of a cart rolling by, the drone of the newscaster on the TV in the waiting room. He heard none of it.
He’d arrived an hour ago, less than eight hours after the phone call informing him that Grandpa Forest was in the hospital again with pneumonia.
He’d come to visit, only to be sat in a chair in a corner of the waiting room and handed a bag of Grandpa Forest’s things.
.. The clothes he’d worn into the hospital.
His ugly brown loafers. His wallet. The wedding ring he never took off, even though Joanie Dean had been gone for almost thirty years now.
Grandpa Forest had passed away while Alex was somewhere over North Carolina.
But it didn’t make sense. Alex had visited him last week at the long-term care facility and he’d been fine.
Unresponsive, but alive. Someone had made a mistake.
Alex needed to find a doctor and explain that they had it wrong, but the only other people in the waiting room were a couple who must’ve been waiting for word on a loved one’s surgery, and the volunteer who directed visitors.
Alex blinked, and there he was, nine years old again, days after his dad left.
Grandpa Forest came to stay with them for four months to make sure Alex and his mom were okay.
Blink, and Grandpa Forest was taking Alex through the sports store and buying him a pair of rollerblades so he could play street hockey in the alley with the neighborhood kids during the summer.
Blink, and Grandpa Forest was helping Alex wrap a Christmas present for his mom.
Blink, and Grandpa Forest was showing him how to do a mean cannonball into the community pool.
Blink, and he was talking to Grandpa Forest on the phone about a game gone wrong.
Blink, and he was waving to Grandpa Forest and his mom in the stands at the first game he’d played as a Glen Hill College Mountaineer.
Blink, and he and Grandpa Forest were making faces at his mom behind the camera on college graduation day.
An elephant was sitting on his chest, pressing into him until he couldn’t breathe, until he thought he might die too.
He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t stay in this place of death anymore, but he couldn’t move.
Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but stare at the wall and hold tight onto Grandpa Forest’s possessions—all he had left of him.
“Sweetie, is there somebody I can call for you?” the volunteer asked.
He must’ve answered, because what felt like thirty seconds later, but was probably closer to thirty minutes, JP and Jay were suddenly there. They sat on either side of him. JP placed a hand on his knee, and Jay, one on his shoulder.
“Hey, man.” JP rubbed Alex’s knee. “Mitch called us. He was about to walk into an exam when the nurse or whoever called, so he sent us.”
JP’s mouth continued to move, but the frantic hum of the lights was back, and Alex couldn’t hear past it. The world continued on, but for Alex, it had stopped hours ago when the person who’d been his rock for most of his life had died.
Somehow, he didn’t know how, he ended up curled up on Jay’s couch. In a fog, the world dimmed and incomplete, he hugged Grandpa Forest’s bag of belongings to his chest like a beloved childhood teddy bear, and slept.
* * *
Mitch was there when Alex woke up.
For one aching minute, he was so damn glad to see Mitch that his heart soared and his pulse thrummed. But then he remembered why he was here, where he’d spent his morning, and his heart dropped into his stomach, leaving him trying to breathe through the pain.
Crouched next to the couch by Alex’s head, Mitch reached out and pulled an unresisting Alex in. “Alex. God, I’m so sorry.”
Alex’s soul was being torn apart by angry claws, and he stuck his face in Mitch’s neck.
Every part of him ached, the hurt in his heart spreading outward and taking over his body.
Mitch’s arms were tight around him, taking some of the pain away, but he still felt like he was going to disintegrate into nothing and float away.
“He’s gone,” he croaked into Mitch’s shoulder, chest squeezing.
“I know, babe.” Mitch’s own tears wet Alex’s neck. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
Mitch moved Grandpa Forest’s bag of personal things onto the coffee table and climbed onto the couch.
It was barely big enough for Alex, let alone both of them, but they made it work, Alex’s back wedged into the couch, Mitch half on top of him so he didn’t fall onto the floor.
Mitch kissed Alex’s forehead, his wet eyelids, his hot cheeks.
Something moved through Alex that wasn’t grief.
Something closer to peace. Mitch did that.
“He’s with your Grandma Joanie now,” Mitch said.
Alex’s eyes burned again and his throat went thick.
He couldn’t do anything but nod. When people left, it was always hardest on those left behind.
When Alex’s dad had left, his mom had been a rock but Alex had heard her crying in her room at night and caught her staring into space in the middle of conversations.
Judd Dean hadn’t been a bad dad. He didn’t hit them, didn’t drink excessively, didn’t talk down to them.
He just didn’t care. It was as if he was simply going through the motions of being married and having a kid because it was what was expected of him.
The last time Alex had heard of him was when he’d been in high school, when his mom and Judd had officially divorced.
But he hadn’t seen him since the day he left.
It had been over fifteen years and Alex hadn’t heard a peep from him.
He must have loved Alex’s mom at some point, right? To marry her?
Alex tried to picture himself leaving Mitch for any reason, and his eyes watered again. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
“I know.” Mitch ran his hand over Alex’s chest. “People aren’t always lucky enough to say goodbye before someone dies.”
“No, I mean… When my dad left. I never got to say goodbye.” Alex stared at the popcorn ceiling.
A tear escaped and trailed down his temple toward his ear.
“He was there when I went to school in the morning, then gone when I came home. All my mom said for a long time was ‘He had to go.’ I never knew what that meant. How could you have to leave someone you love? But I don’t think he loved us, not really.
I think he was waiting for something better to come along.
And when it didn’t, he went out to find it. ”
“And did he?” Mitch asked. “Find it, I mean?”
Jay poked his head into the room. He left just as quickly.
“I don’t know,” Alex said. “I never spoke with him again. A few years ago, I thought about trying to track him down, but why bother? He would’ve gotten in touch if he’d wanted to see me. And now Grandpa Forest is gone too.”
“He loved you.” Mitch propped himself on an elbow and caught Alex’s gaze. “He loved you so much.”
“I know, but…” Alex wiped his eyes. “I thought I wanted him to remember me so he could see me play in the NHL. But I realize now that I just wanted—” His breathing hiccupped and he had to force the words out past a too-tight throat. “—I just wanted to say goodbye.”
Mitch sighed and rested his forehead against Alex’s. “Like you didn’t get to say goodbye to your dad. Is that why you text me goodnight every night?”
“And to tell you I love you. So you know. In case something happens. It’s important.”
“God.” Mitch wiped his face on Alex’s T-shirt. “Stop talking. You’re breaking my heart.”
Miraculously, it made Alex chuckle. It was watery and constricted, but it was there. “How did your exam go?” he asked, just to think of something else for a bit.
“Please. Neuromuscular exercise physiology? I killed it.”
“And creative writing? How’d that one go?”
“I didn’t have one, remember? Just the final portfolio assignment that was due last week.”
“Right.” Alex lifted his head in search of tissues, and flopped back down when he didn’t spot a box within arm’s reach.
“Thanks for your help with that, by the way.”
Jay poked his head in again.
“Jay,” Alex said before he could leave. “What’s up?”
“Sorry.” Jay held up Alex’s phone. “I’ve been fielding your phone calls. Your grandpa’s lawyer called earlier. She’s coming by to talk to you about the will.”
Mitch sat up. “That’s fast.”
Jay shrugged. “She didn’t know how long Alex would be in town.”
“How did she know, though?” Alex asked. He sat up and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I haven’t called anyone.”
“I guess the hospital called your grandpa’s facility, and they called his lawyer. They’ve been trying to reach you too.”
Fuck, there were things to do when someone died and Alex was ignoring it all, but he didn’t know where to start.
His mom might know. Or Google. What to do when someone dies.
He’d probably get over a million hits, but at least it’d be a start.
First he had to call his mom, though. Shit.
He so didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news.
Grandpa Forest’s lawyer was a tiny Italian woman with a booming voice and a slick cap of dark hair. Okay fine, she was only a couple inches shorter than Mitch, who was five-foot-nine, but for Alex, who was six-foot-four, anyone below six feet was short.
Alex sat next to Mitch at the kitchen table, across from Benedetta Onetti. Jay was chopping something at the kitchen counter, presumably for dinner, although Alex suspected it was for show and that he was not-so-subtly eavesdropping.
Benedetta was apparently a huge hockey fan, and she started off saying how it was too bad Tampa hadn’t made it to the playoffs. Then she asked Alex for his autograph while Mitch stared on in wide-eyed fascination, before seeming to remember why she was there and getting down to business.
“Your grandfather left you everything. The money in his accounts, his possessions, his house,” she said.
Mitch turned to Alex. “I didn’t know he had a house.”
“Oh, it’s all paid off,” Benedetta said.
“And it has been for years. But he never had the heart to sell it. It’s where he lived with his wife before she passed.
It’s being rented by a young couple at the moment, but the lease is up in about eight months.
We can re-visit what you’d like to do with it in a couple of months, Alex.
” She pulled an envelope out of her briefcase and handed it to Alex. “He left this for you.”
The envelope had the firm’s address in the top left corner, and Alex’s name written in the middle in Grandpa Forest’s neat handwriting.
Alex swallowed hard and traced the lettering.
Part of him wanted to tear into the envelope, desperate for any last word from Grandpa Forest. The other part of him didn’t want to acknowledge that this would be it, the final time he’d ever hear from the person who’d been his sounding board for so long.
He wanted to tuck the letter away, keep it someplace safe with the knowledge that Grandpa Forest wasn’t too far away if he ever needed him.
“You don’t have to open it now,” Mitch told him.
Ignoring the three sets of eyes on him, Alex carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheaf of paper.
Alex, my boy,
Once I pass on and join your grandma, I need you to do two things for me.
First, take some of the money I’ve left you and donate it to a charity, anything that’ll help kids play sports.
You and I both know that sometimes a kid needs a helping hand once in a while.
Second, save yourself the hassle and skip the funeral.
I don’t need a priest to send me off to my maker.
Grandma Joanie will be there to show me the way, so don’t worry about that.
Cremate my old bones and bury them next to your grandma, but then have a party.
A big one. Invite everyone you know. (And there better be ketchup chips.)
Be happy, Alex, my boy. Be smart. Be brave. And play as much hockey as you can (and kick some butt while you’re doing it).
All my love,
Your Grandpa Forest
Alex laughed and cried at the same time and the words on the page blurred even as the elephant finally stepped off his chest. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, feeling lighter than he had all day.
“What’s so funny?” Mitch asked. His smile for Alex was inquisitive and soft.
Alex handed him the letter. “It’s just Grandpa Forest. Saying goodbye.”