AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Stop it. Just stop it, Beth. There was nothing you or anyone else could have done. And stop blaming yourself for your mother,” he says, his voice still breathy but stern. I still. He has never mentioned her name to me before. I could never say her name out loud to him without him walking away. For the first time in almost two decades, he mentions her. I wait for him to continue.
“You didn’t kill your mother. She did that all on her own. She was not paying attention to the road; she was overreacting to a kid dropping a few dishes and was driving erratically. We can’t live in remorse anymore. For years, we have lived on autopilot. For years, we have blamed ourselves. But it needs to stop. If this heart attack has given me anything, it is the slap in the face I needed to get my life on track, Beth. To start living again. And you should too.”
I watch him for a moment, his eyes opening and closing, his breathing heavy and strong. My tears have stopped, and I pull my shoulders back. I have never spoken to my dad about the accident, despite numerous counselors telling us that it is exactly what we should be doing. Together, we’ve become professionals in ignoring the past, burying it deep down and skipping around the outskirts of blame and nightmares that follow such a tragedy. But today, he has said the words that I never thought I would hear. He doesn’t blame me. I don’t blame him. Slowly, I nod, as the information filters through my brain, my body and mind going through such a whirlwind of emotions these past few days, I am not sure I can even function much longer.
“I love you, Dad,” I say, a small smile coming to my face.
“I love you too, pumpkin.” He uses the nickname he hasn’t in years. His eyes glass over as he squeezes my hand.
“Let me buzz the nurses, see what trouble they can find,” I tell him, my smile wider, and he groans, because he hates the fuss. As soon as I push the button, the door opens, and three nurses rush in and take over, forcing me to step back and give them some room.
They hover over his bed, taking his blood pressure, asking him questions, refilling his drip, and sitting him up slightly. My fingers and hands twist together, my ears attune trying to listen to their conversation. My heart is thumping. I want to be excited, but I need to remain calm, because I know he isn’t out of the woods yet.
Doctor Standford stalks through the door, his face serious as he grabs the clipboard to view Dad’s chart. Flicking the pages back and forth, he starts asking him questions. My head swings between the two of them, like I am watching a tennis match, my breath almost non-existent, too scared to say or do anything while I pray to everything and everyone I know that Dad will be alright. I look at Doctor Standford and see him smile. The first smile he has made since we arrived, and I finally take a breath.
“Beth, a word?” he asks me, and the two of us step outside.
“How is he?” I ask the minute we are in the hallway.
“He is strong. Good. He is a fighter, your dad. We will keep him monitored in ICU for a little while, and then if he continually shows signs of improvement, he will be moved to the general ward.”
“That’s good, right? Great!” At the good news, I begin to feel more alive than I have in days.
“I will check up on him again later, and until then, the nurses are just assessing a few more things. They will come and get you once they have finished,” he says before patting my shoulder, giving me another warm smile, and I want to jump for joy.
I watch him leave, walking down the empty corridor, until he steps around the corner and out of sight. I stare at the empty corridor for a beat, until another man in a suit comes into view, and I run. I run the length of the corridor so fast and am met with Harrison’s confused look before I leap, and he catches me, just like he said he always will.
“What happened?” he asks, as he continues to walk, gripping onto my butt as I wrap my legs around him, freshly pressed suit be damned. My arms circle his neck, and I bury my head in his shoulder and breathe in his scent, the aroma calming me even more.
“He woke up! He is awake! He is going to be okay!” I say with excitement, before pulling back and looking at Harrison, watching the big smile come to his face, matching my own.
“That is great news!” he says, putting my feet to the floor now that we are back outside my dad's door.
“Beth?” the nurse says tentatively. “You can go back in now.” I don’t wait. Pulling Harrison by the hand behind me, I walk into the room and see Dad propped up having something to eat.
“A grown man needs more than this poor excuse for Jell-O,” he grumbles as I walk to his bedside.
“How are you feeling, Dad?” I ask, tentatively taking his hand. He squeezes my fingers and gives me a small smile.
“Fine. I’m sore, but fine.”
“You scared me,” I whisper, the thoughts of what if still lingering in my mind. I feel Harrison come up behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder, giving me comfort.
“Stop, Beth, I am fine. By the looks of things, you two are not at all worried about the elections tomorrow if you are waiting around this old man’s bed. How are you positioned for the election, Harrison?” he asks, switching the subject.
“Well, it is a tight race. I have a few more hands to shake, but essentially, there isn’t too much else I can do at this point. It is now up to the voters.”
“Beth, why don’t you call Marci and Larry, then give your father a hug before you two go off and do whatever it is I know you should be doing for the election tomorrow. Because, even though I appreciate it, I know staying at my bedside is not where either of you should be.”
“Dad…”
“No, Beth. You need to go. I will be here; I am not planning on going anywhere.”
Dad looks at Harrison, and then me, and I sigh.
“Fine. Be good for the nurses,” I warn him, because he has a habit of getting snappy when receiving help from others.
“I will keep the TV on, so I’ll see you on there,” he mumbles to Harrison.
