Chapter 8
JONAH
Snow was still falling when I pulled into the hospital parking lot and turned the truck off, pausing for a few moments to gather my thoughts, before I turned the lights off too and opened my door.
My boots crunched across the snow as I headed for the main doors.
The squat building illuminated from within, almost every window ablaze, like a beacon in the night.
The receptionist behind the front desk pointed me towards the door that led through to the emergency waiting room.
Her demeanor was disinterested, her attention focused on the computer screen in front of her, as if my world hadn’t just been rocked completely off its core.
I didn’t take it personally. She no doubt saw countless families’ lives thrown into chaos and trauma every day.
‘Thanks,’ I told her, heading swiftly for the doors.
My mother’s face was the first one I saw.
She looked like she’d aged ten years in the few hours since I’d last seen her.
Her skin ashen, forehead slightly creased.
Lips set in a thin line that I recognized.
It was the pinched look she adopted when she was trying her hardest to conceal her emotions.
Breaking down in a public hospital waiting room was not something that Eleanor Sawyer would be doing, no matter what the circumstances; that much was clear.
I hurried over the slightly sticky linoleum floors to where she was sitting. My brother and Sophie were on one side of her, Anna on the other.
‘How is he?’ I asked.
‘He’s alright,’ Anna said, her voice cracking. ‘Or at least he will be. That’s what the doctor said.’
‘What happened?’
‘They think he had a stroke. A mild one, thank God.’
‘I don’t understand.’
My mother shook her head, glaring at me. ‘I warned you that something like this would happen. He is too old for the stress of running the business. At his age, he should be relaxing. Enjoying his retirement. God knows he has worked hard enough to deserve it.’
My chest tightened. ‘You’re seriously going to blame me for this?’
‘She didn’t say that.’ Anna interjected.
‘It’s clearly what she’s thinking though,’ I retorted.
My mother’s shoulders deflated. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m just worried.’
Anna put her hand over our mother’s and squeezed it. ‘We all are. But we need to stick together as a family to help him through this.’ She looked up at me. ‘Right, Jonah?’
My anger departed as quickly as it had arrived. ‘Of course.’ I looked around. ‘Where’s Myles?’
‘He took Isabelle home,’ Anna said wearily. ‘I didn’t want her here. God knows what bugs are floating around in this place. I just want to focus on Dad right now without worrying about her getting sick too.’
‘Mrs. Sawyer?’
I stepped aside to let the doctor who had approached face the family. My mother got to her feet, only a slight tremble of her chin betraying her nerves.
‘How is my husband?’
‘He’s doing as well as can be expected.’
‘What does that mean, exactly?’
‘Mr. Sawyer has suffered a mild stroke.’
‘Mild compared to what?’
‘Let’s just say, it could have been a lot worse.’
‘Is he…’ My mother swallowed. ‘Is he conscious?’
‘He’s sleeping, right now.’
‘But he has been conscious, hasn’t he? What I’m saying is, he’s still…’
‘He is cognitively fine, yes. He was lucky you got him to the hospital as fast as you did. Early treatment means his chances of a full recovery are good. We’ll need to run more tests over the next few days, make sure there are no more clots.
He’ll have some weakness, hopefully temporary, and he will need home help for a couple of months or so.
But he should, in time, regain his full strength. ’
My mother exhaled. ‘Thank you. Can we see him?’
‘Of course.’ The doctor turned and gestured to a nurse. ‘Becky will take you to him. Don’t expect too much from him tonight. The best thing for him right now is rest.’
We followed Becky through the doors and down a corridor to a room that had the number eight above the door and my father’s name written on a little whiteboard next to the entryway.
The lights inside the room were dim. I hesitated in the doorway at the sight of him lying on the bed, his eyes closed.
Beside him, a machine whirred steadily, numbers monitoring his vitals on the screen.
My mother made a small choking sound when she saw him, then rallied, hurrying to the side of the bed and running her eyes from his head down to his toes and back again.
‘We’re here, darling,’ she said, placing a hand lightly on his forehead and brushing his hair gently off his face.
It was a sweet gesture, but made me feel uncomfortable.
From the way the others suddenly found interesting things to look at on the wall, I could tell they felt the same.
Our mother was not normally one prone to declarations of affection out loud, even towards our father.
As for physical displays, I couldn’t remember the last time my mother had hugged or kissed me. ‘Your family are here.’
I stared down at my normally big, strong father.
In that hospital bed, he didn’t particularly look big or strong.
He looked fragile, one side of his face clearly drooping.
For the first time, I noticed the thinning hair, the skin that was too big for the bones. I hated it. Hated seeing him like this.
‘How did this happen?’ I asked. ‘I mean, did he fall, or something? Knock his head?’
‘No. We were just sitting around having a nightcap, getting ready to call it a night. One minute he was chatting away, perfectly fine,’ Anna said, wiping tears that had dripped down to her chin on the back of her hand.
She sat down on a plastic chair next to our father, placing her hand on his.
Mom sat in an armchair on the other side, doing the same.
David stood next to Mom, his arms crossed over his chest. His face ashen.
Sophie hovered next to David. Offering light, reassuring touches and murmured words of support.
I felt suddenly acutely alone, quickly brushing the feeling off.
‘And then all of a sudden he just stopped making any sense,’ Anna continued.
‘To us, anyway,’ David added. ‘That was the scary part. He was trying to communicate with us. You could see it in his eyes. The confusion and the fear. He knew what he was saying, but to us it was just… nonsense.’
‘I realized he was acting like my grandmother did, when she had her stroke,’ Sophie said.
‘And thank God you did,’ my mother said fervently. ‘I didn’t know what was happening. Or what to do. If you hadn’t called the ambulance when you did, God only knows how much damage the stroke could have caused to him. Or worse.’
A nurse walked into the room, wearing purple Crocs on her feet. She smiled at our worried faces, then busied herself checking Dad’s vitals.
‘Give her some room,’ Mom said tersely to Anna.
‘It’s OK,’ the nurse reassured Anna as she went to stand. ‘You sit. I can do what I need to do around you.’
We all watched her like hawks until she had finished writing on Dad’s chart.
‘Well?’ Mom prompted, when it looked like she was going to leave the room without saying anything.
‘He’s doing good. Model patient. The doctors will keep him in for a few days for some tests and observations, but my guess is you’ll have him home again within the week.’
Mom clutched a hand to her chest. ‘That’s excellent news. But what if it happens again?’
‘Obviously there is always that risk, but that’s what the tests we’ll run over the next few days are for. The doctors will try to find out what caused the clot and prevent it from happening again.’
‘I’m willing to pay for the best doctors in the state,’ Mom informed her. ‘The country, if needed. My husband needs the best care available.’
‘And he will get that. Don’t worry. We have very good doctors here. They will do their best for him, believe me.’
‘What about when he comes home?’ David asked. ‘What happens then? Will he need a live-in nurse?’
‘No. A home care nurse can go to your house every day to monitor his progress, offer therapy and check medications. He may need to hire a walker for a while, or a stick. It will depend how his mobility is once we get him up and about again, but a lot of patients appreciate the feeling of support, especially at the start.’
‘He won’t like that,’ David said.
‘I don’t care whether he likes it or not,’ Mom replied sharply. ‘If it’s what he needs, then it’s what will happen. He’ll do as he’s told.’
‘Like always,’ I muttered.
‘I’ll make some calls tomorrow and sort it all out,’ Anna said.
‘There’s no need,’ the nurse replied cheerfully. ‘We can organize everything for you when we discharge Mr. Sawyer.’
Mom sniffed. ‘I don’t want just any old random person in my house, looking after my husband.’
‘Oh no, these people are very qualified. And they’ve all undergone comprehensive background and police checks upon employment.
You have nothing to worry about.’ She smiled kindly.
‘You should all go and get some rest. I’m sure it’s been a very stressful night.
I promise you Mr. Sawyer is in the best place. ’
‘No,’ Mom said. ‘I’m not leaving him. Not tonight. But the rest of you can go. Your father needs peace and quiet.’
Anna, David and I exchanged looks.
‘Don’t worry, I will let you know if anything changes,’ Mom added. ‘But there is no point in all of us staying here. You heard the doctor.’ She pulled the sheet up my father’s chest and gently tucked it around him. ‘He’s going to be OK.’
‘OK.’ Anna said, getting to her feet. ‘I should really get home to Isabelle. Myles struggles to get her to take a bottle.’ She leaned down and kissed our father on the forehead. ‘Night, Dad,’ she said. ‘I love you.’
‘Give my granddaughter a kiss from me and tell Myles I’ll call him tomorrow. We might need a few things done around the house before your father comes home.’
‘What sort of things?’ I asked.
She flicked me a glance. ‘Whatever they recommend. Maybe some support rails in the bathroom. Things like that. I’ll talk to the doctor about it in the morning. I could get a tradesman in, of course, but Myles is very handy with tools. I’m sure he won’t mind.’
‘Of course he won’t mind,’ I agreed, frowning. ‘But I can do anything that needs to be done. You don’t need to bother him with it.’
She waved a hand. ‘I don’t want to trouble you.’
‘He’s my father,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘It’s no trouble. Anything he needs, I can do for him.’
Anna held her hands up as she walked out of the room. ‘I’m going; you two can sort this out.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?’ David asked. ‘Sophie and I don’t mind hanging out in the waiting room all night.’
‘Don’t be silly. There’s absolutely no need for that,’ Mom said, shaking her head. ‘Go. Get some sleep and come back tomorrow.’
‘OK.’ David kissed her on her cheek. ‘We’ll see you in the morning. Call if you need us.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Come with me, Mrs. Sawyer,’ the nurse said, after David and Sophie had left. ‘I will show you where you can make tea and coffee and find yourself a blanket and pillow.’
Mom got slowly to her feet and looked at me.
The normal facade of perfection had slipped.
Tears had caused her makeup to melt into the fine lines around her eyes, and her hair had come loose from its normal confines.
If she saw herself in a mirror she’d be horrified.
Then again, maybe she wouldn’t care. She had certainly shown a softer side tonight than any of us were used to.
‘Can you stay with him until I get back?’
‘Of course.’
After they’d gone, I took the seat next to my father that had been vacated by Anna. The room was dim and silent, save from the gentle hum of the air conditioning unit that was pumping warm air into the room, and the rhythmic beep of Dad’s monitor.
‘Hey, Dad,’ I said softly. ‘I need you to get through this, OK?’
He looked so peaceful, sleeping. Apart from the slight droop on one side of his face, there was no sign of the trauma that had wreaked such havoc within.
I sat there and thought about my memories of him, from childhood till now.
Where our mother was distant, he was the opposite.
Loud, affectionate, caring. I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
‘I’m so sorry if this is my fault,’ I whispered, feeling the guilt weigh heavily on my heart.
‘I know you want me to take over running the business.’ I sighed.
‘And I hate letting you down. I really do. It’s just…
it’s not me. I wish I knew what to do.’ I closed my eyes and pinched the skin between my eyebrows, feeling a headache starting to build.
The nurse re-entered the room carrying a blanket and pillow. My mother followed her, nursing a paper cup of something hot. Steam floated above it. The nurse reclined the armchair and flicked open the blanket, shaking it out and setting it down.
‘There you go, Mrs. Sawyer,’ she said. ‘It won’t be very comfortable but it’s the best I can offer, I’m afraid.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘You should get some sleep if you can, while your husband sleeps. Tomorrow will be a big day of tests and waiting.’
‘I will, thank you.’
After the nurse left, I stared at my mother. ‘Do you want me to stick around? I don’t mind sitting here with you all night, if you need me.’
She flicked me a sharp look. ‘It’s not now that I need you, Jonah.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
She shook her head. ‘Let’s not talk about this now. It has been a long, difficult night for all of us, and I’m afraid my nerves are shot. I don’t want to say anything I might regret.’
‘Fine.’ I got to my feet. ‘But call me, please, if anything changes.’
‘Of course.’
Outside, the cold night was a shock after the heat of the hospital room.
I welcomed it, drawing it deep into my lungs.
The snow had finally stopped falling and a million stars littered the sky overhead.
In my profession, I knew better than most how quickly things could go wrong.
A boat could capsize in seconds. A stray rope could take off a finger before you’d even know it was happening.
But the thought that I’d almost lost my father that night was hard to wrap my head around.
He’d always seemed invincible, and seeing him like that in the hospital bed, hooked up to all the wires, had been a shocking dose of reality.
Reality that brought with it guilt. I had the horrible feeling that nothing was ever going to be the same again.