Page 37 of The Cloud Catcher

His father’s footfalls were unsteady as he crossed the floor, betraying a fragility that Jay had never seen before. ‘So, how is everything going here, son?’ Joseph’s voice was low and rough as he eased himself onto a barstool.

‘Yeah, really good, Dad.’ Jay refused to ignore the odd sensation swirling in his gut. There’d be no elephant in the room while they were here, because he wanted to enjoy his time with his parents without unnecessary worry. ‘Dad, Mum, is everything okay?’ He looked from one to the other.

There was a lengthy silence as Nadine and Joseph exchanged glances. Then his mum placed her hand on his dad’s back, so tenderly, so soothingly, that Jay almost broke.

‘We have something important to tell you.’ Nadine’s voice trembled. ‘Zara, would you mind joining us?’

‘Of course not.’ Zara quickly wiped her hands on a tea towel, and took a seat beside Jay, her presence filling the space with warmth.

With Joseph unable to hold anyone’s gaze, and Nadine seemingly trying to find the right words, silence stretched and lingered uncomfortably.

Zara caught Jay’s eye with an intuitive glance, silently conveying their shared pact to offer whatever comfort they could to Jay’s parents. ‘We’re here for you both,’ she said ever so gently, her face radiating a softness that seemed to envelop them and shelter them from life’s harsher blows.

And for Jay, right now, that protection was needed more than ever.

‘Let me tell them, my love.’ Joseph’s trembling hands reached for Nadine’s. ‘I’m afraid,’ he admitted in a hoarse whisper, his once strong voice now sounding frayed and fragile, ‘we’ve recently found out I have Parkinson’s, and, well, that’s going to change everything.’

‘It will change some things, possibly many things, but …’ Nadine’s grip on her husband’s hand tightened as her determination shone through like a beacon in the sudden fog of fear. ‘It will not change us, Joseph, certainly not the heart of what we are together.’ Her words were steel wrapped in velvet and her unwavering love an anchor.

Jay watched with empathy as his mother cradled his father’s face in her hands. ‘We’ve weathered storms before,’ she whispered, loud enough for all to hear. ‘We’ll get through this one too, side by side. You’re not alone, my darling Joey. And never will be.’

Jay was trying to speak, to say something, anything, but his throat had closed up with wave after wave of emotion. Zara’s hand had found his under the table, and she was squeezing it gently in silent support as the news hung heavy in the air, each word that had been uttered by his parents carving a deeper sense of reality into Jay’s heart.

Parkinson’s.

The word echoed in his mind, bringing with it a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. His parents, once the pillars of strength and stability in his life, were now faced with a daunting challenge that threatened to shake the very foundation of their life, and he felt helpless to stop it, to save them from the heartbreak of it all.

‘I’m so sorry.’ He finally articulated all that he could given the lump of emotion wedged in his throat. ‘Is there anything that we, I, all of us can do?’

‘Thank you, son.’ Nadine’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she spoke softly. ‘We wanted to tell you both in person, so you know that we’re in this together.’ She sniffled and straightened, as if shaking off an unwanted sensation. ‘Your dad and I are going to face this head-on, as a family, like we always have when times get tough.’ She looked to her husband and smiled. ‘Because that’s what you do, for those you love with all of your heart, isn’t that right, Joey?’

With his bottom lip trembling, all Joseph could do was nod.

The room filled with a palpable affection, the kind that lingers long after spoken words fade. Jay felt a surge of admiration for his parents, at how their courage and resilience shone through, even in the face of such adversity.

‘We’re here for you,’ Zara said gently, her voice like a calm tide lapping against the shores of despair. ‘You’re our family, and we love both of you with all of our hearts.’

‘Thank you, sweet Zara,’ Nadine replied.

Jay leant back with his eyes fixed on his father, who was now perched on the edge of his chair as if waiting to tumble off the brink. ‘I love you, Dad.’ What else was he meant to say?

‘I love you, too, son.’ Joseph cleared his throat, then took a sharp breath. ‘I want you to know that every part of me wants to fight this,’ his voice quavered, ‘so I can still be your father and also the man your mother deserves.’ His once bright eyes were now pools of uncertainty as he clearly struggled to come to terms with his diagnosis.

Nadine reached across the table, her fingers brushing against Joseph’s in a gesture of support. ‘You are that man, Joseph Maverick, and more,’ she assured him, her voice firm despite the shimmer of tears threatening to spill over. ‘We’ll just take each day as it comes, together, okay?’

Jay felt the tightness in his chest almost become unbearable. The sight of his parents’ sadness mingled with his fear in a silent dance as he realised what Parkinson’s could bring. Yet amid the turmoil, there was a steadfast resolve between all four of them, an unspoken pact to navigate this unwelcome journey hand in hand, side by side, no matter what.

‘I can’t even begin to understand how hard this must be, for both of you.’ Zara’s eyes bore a gentle compassion that seemed to envelop Nadine. ‘I’m here whenever either of you need to talk, or cry, or laugh it out, or even just to sit in silence.’

‘Thank you, my dear daughter,’ Nadine murmured gratefully, clearly allowing herself a momentary respite as she leant into Zara’s support. ‘I didn’t realise, until now, just how much I needed another woman’s comfort.’

* * *

As days turned into weeks, the Maverick home became a sanctuary for shared burdens and quiet encouragements. Proud grandparents got to spoil their two grandchildren. And having asked for urgent leave from work, Jay spent afternoons with Joseph, supporting him through the exercises meant to strengthen his muscles, offering words of encouragement as Joseph’s body betrayed him in small, incremental ways.

‘Remember when we used to go fishing?’ Jay asked one afternoon, achingly watching as his father struggled to grasp a pen. ‘You always said patience was key.’

‘Yes, I do.’ Joseph chuckled, a sound that was tinged with nostalgia. ‘Seems I need to heed my own advice now.’