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“Actually, once you voluntarily signed yourself into our care, the length of your treatment is at our discretion.”
“Bullshit.”
“Sit down, Joe,” Darren tried again. “Just hear us out, will you?”
“I’m not staying here another day longer than I agreed to,” I warned, shaking my head at both of them. “My girlfriend is due in September. Not that either one of you give a shit, but I’ve already missed most of her pregnancy, but if you think that I’m missing the birth, too, then you’re fucking crazier than I am!”
“This is exactly what I was telling you on the phone,” Darren told the doctor. “He can’t see beyond her. He’ll put her needs first, even if it’s not what he needs.”
“Excuse me?” I glared at my brother. “You two were talking about me?”
“It’s protocol to have an informal weekly meeting with your next of kin to discuss your treatment,” Dr. B explained calmly. “You already know this.”
“Except that he’s not my next of fucking anything,” I snapped. “I thought you were giving the updates to Edel and John. They’re the ones footing the bill for this place, aren’t they?”
“We’ve been informing Mr. and Mrs. Kavanagh of your progress, but neither one is your next of kin, so the information we’ve been able to provide them with has been limited.”
“Who put him down?”
“You did, Joe,” Darren offered calmly.
“No.” I shook my head. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“You signed the forms, Joe.”
“The forms you filled in. The ones you had me sign,” I shot back accusingly. “You shouldn’t have done that, Dar. You know it should have been her,” I continued to argue, voice rising. “I have three weeks left, and I’m out of here. I don’t care what either one of you say.”
“Listen,” my brother said, tried to placate. “Nothing’s set in stone, okay? All I’m saying is that I think it might be better for you to stay for another few months.”
“And miss the birth of my child?”
“Please just consider what I’m saying,” he tried to argue. “Think about the pressure that kind of an environment would be on you. You’re just coming out the other side of this, Joe. What you’ve been through this year? I swear to you that Aoife will understand. And the baby? The baby wouldn’t even know. I mean, fathers in Ireland didn’t even attend the births until—”
“Okay, you need to leave.”
“Joey, come on.”
“No, you need to get the fuck away from me before I lose my mind,” I warned, holding a hand up to warn him off when he moved toward me. “Now, Darren.”
“I think that might be best,” Dr. B said when he looked to her for help.
“Joe, please…”
When he tried to speak to me again, I turned my back and walked over to the window, refusing point-blank to engage with him. It wasn’t until my brother had left the room that I released the death grip I had on the windowsill.
“How are you feeling after that, Joey?” Dr. B asked, returning to her perch on the couch.
“Like I want to put my fist through the wall,” I bit out.
“And?”
“And through my brother’s head.”
“Tell me something,” she pushed. “When your back was to the ropes just now, what was your first thought? Your immediate inclination?”
“My immediate inclination was to put my fist through my brother’s head,” I repeated in a flat tone. “And the wall. But his head more.”
The doctor smiled. “Then you passed.”
