Chapter 4
Calliope
My phone rings and I consider ignoring it. I have my arms almost elbow-deep in dishwater, cleaning a stubborn pan. If it were any other ringtone, I likely would.
But it’s Brenda calling. It could be something as simple as a chat, but chances are, it’s something more important. With Jim having advanced cancer and an expected decline over the coming days, I can’t afford to ignore Brenda’s call.
Nor do I want to. The woman was my second mother growing up.
I spent as much time in her house as mine, and there was a time I thought we’d be related by marriage, too.
That clearly didn’t happen, but when Rafe broke up with me, it didn’t chill my relationship with his parents at all.
If anything, it made it stronger. For the longest time after Rafe left to play professional hockey, I leaned on them because I missed him so badly.
Throughout the years, our bond has continued to grow and develop, even as I moved on with my life.
Despite the passage of time, Brenda is still like my second mom.
She’s also one of my mom’s closest friends, and I love her dearly.
So of course I’ll answer the phone. I quickly dry my arms and hands and nab the cell by the fourth ring, just before my voicemail picks up. “Brenda…hey…what’s up?”
“It’s Jim,” she says, and there’s no disguising the worry in her voice. “He’s having a hard time breathing, and I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean by hard time breathing?” I ask her, placing a palm on my kitchen counter.
“It’s labored. There’s a wheezing sound. And he’s sort of lethargic.”
“He probably needs to go to the hospital,” I suggest.
While I don’t mention the medical specifics, Jim is at the precipice of where his body will start betraying him.
With the cancer having spread to his lungs, this is an expected symptom.
But his other organs will also begin shutting down as they fight the unwinnable battle against the cancer.
He’ll need medical intervention to help make him more comfortable.
“He won’t go, Calliope.” She sighs, and I can just envision her pinching the bridge of her nose. It’s what she does when she’s frustrated. “And Rafe isn’t here. If he were, maybe he could talk some sense into his dad.”
“Tell you what,” I say as I move through my apartment to the foyer, where I grab my purse and keys. “Let me come over and take a look at him. If he needs the hospital, we can call an ambulance. How does that sound?”
“Okay, yes,” she breathes out in relief. “I’d appreciate it so much. I hate to bother you with—”
“It’s never a bother, Brenda,” I cut her off sharply. “Never. You call me, no matter what.”
My heart almost breaks when all I hear through the line is a tiny hiccup of a sob.
“I’m on my way,” I assure her.
I live nearby in an apartment complex just a few miles down the road.
I chose the location because not only is it convenient for the hospital I work in, but it’s also near my parents, who I’m incredibly close to.
I eat dinner with them several times a week, and before Jim got sick, he and Brenda would sometimes join us.
I arrive at the Simmonses’ house in less than five minutes. Brenda meets me at the front door and murmurs, “He’s probably going to be angry I called you.”
“I’m not worried about that,” I assure her as I follow her up to the main level of the house. We turn left and move to the end of the hallway where their master bedroom is located.
The blinds are closed, and the interior is dim. Brenda moves around the bed to where Jim is lying on the far side and turns on the bedside lamp that has been draped with a fringy shawl to keep the light subdued.
She touches his shoulder and gives a gentle shake. “Jim… Calliope’s here. She wants to check on you.”
Jim’s eyes flutter open, and he takes in a breath. I can hear the wheeze from across the room. He narrows his gaze on his wife a moment before his head turns my way. “I’m fine,” he mutters and then looks back to Brenda. “You didn’t need to bother her.”
“Let me just take a look at you, Jim,” I say as I move around the bed. Brenda steps out of my way, and I lean over, placing a hand on his forehead to see if he’s running a fever.
In this moment, I’m only a family friend taking a look to render a non-medical opinion.
I can’t operate as a nurse, as his condition is outside my field of expertise.
While I don’t mind helping the family with decisions and talking things through, I can’t give any type of expert opinion on his condition.
Brenda probably doesn’t really understand that, and I might need to clarify it at some point.
“He doesn’t seem to be running a fever,” I murmur and then drop my hand to his shoulder. “How hard is it to breathe, Jim?”
As if to prove nothing’s wrong, he sucks in a big gulp of air and lets it out. “I’m fine. See.”
I know he thinks he just performed a monumental feat for me, but even I can see that his lungs aren’t filling to capacity. It’s not a good sign. But now that I’ve seen him, I also don’t think he needs immediate medical intervention. His color looks good, and he sounds pretty strong, actually.
Jim pushes himself up to lean against the headboard and wipes at his eyes as if to clear the sleep from them. “Listen…yes, I’m feeling a bit tired today. Doc said that would happen. But I’m just trying to rest up for the game tonight.”
“Game?” I ask, turning my gaze to Brenda.
She gives a small shake of her head. “Technically, it’s Rafe’s first game with the Cold Fury. He’s actually been at the arena this morning for his first team practice and getting to know the guys. He should be home any moment to hang out for a bit before he heads back for the game.”
“And I want to watch the game on TV, so I’m just trying to get some rest,” Jim gripes. “And I can’t do that when the two of you are hovering over me. Now, I’m tired and want to nap a bit more.”
“Fine,” Brenda exclaims, holding up her hands in defeat. “Rest. I’ll wake you up for lunch in a bit, okay?”
“Okay,” he mutters and then gives her an apologetic smile. “And sorry I’m a grump.”
“I’ve lived with your grumpy butt for almost thirty years,” she replies affectionately. “I’m used to it.”
Brenda and I leave the room, and she shuts the door behind us. “Want a cup of tea?”
“Sure,” I reply, not really having anything else to do today except clean my kitchen. I’d actually planned to hang out at my place and read a book or watch some TV. I’m pretty low-maintenance on my days off and enjoy chilling more than anything.
I sit at the table while Brenda puts the kettle on.
She’s the one who got me into drinking tea years ago when I was still in high school.
It always made me feel so adult and part of her family to sit at the table and sip as we talked.
Of course, back then, we talked a lot about Rafe because he was the center of both our worlds.
“Is this it?” Brenda asks as she comes to join me at the table while the water heats.
The question may seem vague, but I get what she’s asking. She wants to know if we’re at the beginning of the end.
Before I can answer, the front door opens, and Rafe calls out in an exaggerated Cuban accent a la Ricky Ricardo, “L-u-u-u-c-y… I’m home.”
I can’t help but smile, and my gaze meets Brenda’s. Rafe always used to do that when he came home from school in the afternoons.
“In the kitchen, honey,” Brenda calls back to him.
We can hear Rafe bounding up the stairs, and as he comes into view, his eyes immediately lock on mine. Of course he knew I was here, my Pathfinder is in the driveway.
“What’s going on?” he asks, letting the gear bag he’s holding drop to the floor. His gaze flits from me to his mom.
She smiles at him, wan and fatigued. “Your dad’s having a bad day. I asked Calliope to come by and check on him.”
Rafe’s eyes snap to me, locking on hard. “And?”
“He’s having a hard time breathing—”
“Why?” he demands, his brows furrowing deeply. “I mean…I don’t understand a goddamn thing about any of this.”
“The cancer has spread to his lungs and his liver—”
“No,” Rafe barks at me, looking wildly between his mother and me. “I don’t understand how this happened. How did it get this bad, this fast?”
There’s a world of recrimination in that statement, and he immediately flushes, a guilty expression on his face.
“Sorry,” he mutters and spins on his heel, walking right out of the kitchen and trotting down the stairs.
Brenda starts to rise from the table to go after him, but I beat her to it, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Let me. I think he needs a rational explanation, and I can give that to him without too much emotion.”
Because really…we’re nothing to each other, so I’m perfect for the job.
Brenda nods, and I follow Rafe out of the house, expecting to find him in his mom’s car. I assume his vehicle might be coming via freight carrier from Arizona at some point, or hell…maybe he’s just going to buy a new one now that he’s relocated. It’s not like he can’t afford it.
Instead, I find Rafe sitting on the top step of the porch, arms crossed over his knees and staring out at the street. He glances up at me and says, “I wasn’t blaming anyone.”
“I know that,” I reply softly and take a seat beside him. “And I think that maybe you really don’t have all the information you need to understand what’s going on. So what can I do to clear things up?”
His expression morphs into relief. “Just explain the disease to me. How come he’s so bad off? How come there’s no hope?”