The Best Day of My Life

by Lynda Throsby

  “Arnold called the office. He said he left the spare keys on the island in the kitchen when he was last here, so he couldn’t get in, and he was getting worried about you too. He’s ready to call the cops. I said I’d try here one more time before he did. You look like you’re about to keel over. Theon. Theon?”

  I know he’s there, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. It feels like an out of body experience. Like I’m looking down at this playing out. I suddenly retch, and I see the floor getting closer and closer.

  I think it’s some time later, and I’m back on the couch. I smell; really smell. It’s making me want to vomit. I put my hand up to cover my eyes because it’s a bit bright in here. I pull a wet rag off my forehead. I don’t have any clothes on apart from my boxers. A towel that’s covering me falls away as I manage to pull myself to a sitting position using the back of the couch to help me. I try to look around, but my head is banging. I put my head in my hands trying to stop the room from spinning and making me feel sick. I’m going to throw up. I lean to the side, and there is a trash can there. I grab it and vomit into it. I feel like crap. Just then, I hear movement near the door. I can’t look. I remember Patrick coming but was I dreaming that? I don’t care right now.

  “Oh, hey. You’re awake. Lost you there for a bit. How are you feeling? I’ve got some water and two Advil’s for you here.”

  I look up. Yep, Patrick. It wasn’t a dream. He puts the water on the table with the tablets, then sits on it.

  “That’s not a seat. It’s a table.”

  He just shrugs at me. “You finished throwing up now?” He takes the bucket away from me and hands me the glass and tablets and watches me take them.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “About three hours. You went out cold. I had to take your filthy, vomit-covered clothes off, then haul your ass over to the couch. You’re no lightweight you know, and who knew you looked like that under your clothes?” he says waving his hand down my body.

  Yeah, no one except Evelyn has ever seen this. Shit Evelyn. Dead Evelyn. Here it comes again — the realization she’s gone. I need to stop drinking myself into a coma. Every time I come to and realize Evelyn’s dead it’s like losing her all over again. I can’t carry on doing this. I can’t keep losing her again and again. It’s going to kill me. I already want to be with her, but something deep down is stopping me.

  The times when I’ve come to, I’ve gotten the sleeping pills out of the medicine cabinet, and gone to the bathroom to fill the tub. Five times that I remember, I filled the tub and sat in it. I had the pills in my hands ready to take. I could quite easily have taken them and then slipped under the water and drowned while in a deep sleep.

  Each time something stopped me from doing it. Maybe I’m just a big fucking wimp and couldn’t do it. God knows how many times thought about it. Maybe one of these times I will actually do it. Suicide isn’t the fucking answer though, you big pussy. Maybe I need to talk to someone? Get some help. I feel alone, and I know I’m not. Maybe I’m an alcoholic now. I know I do it to forget, but it is literally killing me every time I remember. Patrick is still sitting in front of me. Did he say something and is waiting for me to speak? I just look at him.

  “I didn’t know you worked out. You’ve got a body like Hercules hidden under those clothes, but then you look like Clarke Kent. You’re not superman, are you?” I can’t even smile at him and just shrug. “Do you feel up to a shower? I phoned Arnold while you were out to let him know you were here and he said he was going to come over. I’ll clean up some more now you’re awake. I didn’t want to disturb you before. I figured you needed to sleep it off. Bet your head’s banging now, judging by all the empty bottles around this place?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Do me a favor, Patrick. If you find any bottles of booze will you toss them for me? I’ve got to stop. It’s killing me.” I try to get up but fall back down. Patrick jumps off the table to help me.

  “Thank you, Patrick, I’m really sorry you had to see this.”

  “Hey, not a problem. Just know you have a lot of people worried about you. You are not on your own in this, no matter what you think. Now get your ass up and get a shower, you stink.” I give him a slight smile and head for the shower.

  There’s a knock on the bathroom door. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. I washed then broke down on the shower floor. I’ve been curled up on the floor with the water pounding down on me. It’s not hot now, in fact, it’s going cold. Arnold comes rushing into the shower and turns off the water. He grabs a towel and throws it around me before helping me up, and walks me into the bedroom to sit on the bed.

  “Theon, son. Look at me.” My head is hanging in shame. They have their own grief to contend with, and they’re looking after my babies; they don’t need the burden of me as well. That’s why I am better off not here. I’m a dead weight to them, and I can never be a dad to the babies.

  “Look at me, son.” His voice is firm and demanding. I look up instantly.

  “Theon, being holed up here for over a week drinking yourself into oblivion is not the answer. You may forget while you’re drunk, but then it all crashes down once you come off that high. This is not the answer. You need help, Theon. Someone to talk to.”

  I nod at him. “I know,” I whisper to him.

  He looks relieved. “The first step to getting help is admitting you need it, son. Sonia has a good friend who is a therapist, and she would be willing to talk to you. Will you do it, Theon? For you, for Evelyn, for your babies, and for Sonia and me?”

  I nod. I need to do this. If I don’t, then who knows how long I will live. I may be nothing, but I shouldn’t put Arnold or Sonia through another loss.

  “Patrick has cleaned up down there. He left about ten minutes ago and said he would phone you, but to make sure you answer the phone next time, or he will come banging again.” He chuckles at that. “He’s a good man and a good friend. I know you and Evelyn have been wrapped up with each other since being kids, but you need your friends at times like this, Theon.” He stands and squeezes my shoulder. “Get dried, and dressed, and I’ll make the coffee.”

  I nod at him.

  I enter the kitchen where Arnold is sitting with his coffee in his hand and staring into space. He doesn’t hear me come in, and he jumps, spilling a bit of his coffee on the island.

  “Oh god, Theon, I didn’t hear you.”

  “Sorry, Arnold.” It was a loaded sorry. Not just for the scaring him but for everything. He nods at me, then nods to the coffee waiting for me. I sit down opposite him.

  “I know it’s hard, but we have got to discuss the funeral. I take it you haven’t been in touch with the funeral home since we were last there sorting stuff out?”

  I shake my head no. “Let me get my phone. I haven’t checked any messages for god knows how long.” I go to the living room, pick the phone up and check the missed calls and messages. There are calls from Arnold, Sonia, Patrick, and Aggie, and another number I don’t recognize, which I presume is the funeral home.

  “Hello, Mr. Tourney. This is the funeral home taking care of your wife, the late Mrs. Tourney. I just wanted to let you know we now have your wife resting with us. You are welcome to come and see her with your family if you would like to. Please can you give me a ring to confirm the details for the funeral? I have a few dates available for you.” I stop the message. I put the phone on the side then lean over the island with my head in my hands, and I cry. It’s all I ever seem to fucking do, is cry.

  I hear Arnold moving. He’s at my side and squeezing my shoulder. “Theon, are you okay, son?” I shake my head then wipe my eyes with my hand and look up at him.

  “It was a message from the funeral home letting me know they had Evelyn there resting.”

  “It’s okay, Theon, let it out, son. It’s better out than stewing inside you. Now, tell me, what did they say?”

  “We can go in and see her if we like. Oh, and visiting
hours are two ‘til four and only two visitors per bed.” Sarcasm isn’t really me, and I don’t know why I’m so angry. I have all this anger inside me, and I feel like I want to hit something. I put my elbows on the island and put my chin in my hands.

  “Sorry, Arnold. I just feel angry. If you and Sonia want to go and see her, you can. I can’t do that. I want to remember her how she was, not have a picture of her dead in my head. It’s bad enough that I can’t shake the image of her in the ER covered in blood. I hope that will fade. They want me to call them to arrange the date of the funeral.”

  “Theon, don’t apologize. There are several stages of grief and anger is one of them. I will see if Sonia wants to go and see Evelyn, and I will go along with whatever she wants. Do you want to phone them back now so we can sort out the date? We need to get this done sooner rather than later.” He squeezes my shoulder again. I grab my phone and call the number for the funeral home. We decide on noon on Friday.

  “Shit, Arnold, it’s real isn’t it? The funeral is booked, and, oh god, it’s real. She’s not coming back. She’s gone for good. What do I do now? What do I do without her? Arnold, I don’t think I can live without her. I don’t think I can go on without her. She was my life. I breathed air because of her. I carried on living because of her. I had no one but Evelyn, you and Sonia.”

  “Hey…” he pulls me into him as I’m crying and starting to fall apart.

  “You still have Sonia and me. We are here for you. You have us, Theon. Please don’t forget that. You also have your two beautiful babies. You should see them. Hey, come home and have dinner with us. Come and meet your babies, Theon.”

  I shake my head vigorously. “No, Arnold, I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know if I ever will be able to. I know you think I’m a heartless bastard, but I can’t do it.” I step away out of his arms shaking my head.

  “Ok, okay, Theon. I can’t say I understand. Your babies are the last part of Evelyn, and I for one would be clinging to them. You have your reasons, and I hope seeing the therapist and talking it through with her will help you come around. Let me get some dinner for you, and I want to call Sonia to make that appointment for you. Is that okay?” I nod my head, and we cook some food together. He makes the call to Sonia and asks her to give the therapist my number, so she can call me to make the arrangements. I still don’t know how I’m going to get through the next week.

  Present

  I DON’T EVEN know what day it is. It feels like it’s been days since the doctor told Alana that Caroline had less than a 3% chance of survival, but it was only yesterday.

  I take a quick bathroom break and risk leaving Evelina alone, which I hate, in case she wakes up with no one there.

  When I get back, I stand at her door and stare. Alana is sitting there talking to Evelina. I hear her telling Evelina how much her daddy loves her before she stops, and I know she has sensed me at the door. She gets up and turns around.

  “Hey,” I say to her softly.

  “Morning, Theon. Sorry, I was passing, and I saw you weren’t here. I know you don’t like Evelina being on her own, so I just thought I would talk to her until you came back. My sister just arrived and said she would sit with Caroline so I could get out of the room for a few minutes. I hope you don’t mind?”

  I tilt my head to the side and look at the beautiful, sad woman in front of me. I’m leaning against the doorframe with my arms folded and one leg crossed over the other, still in my PJ bottoms and a t-shirt. Alana looks down and fiddles with a button on her shirt. She looks so nervous. She reminds me a bit of Evelyn, but they have different hair. Evelyn’s was mouse-brown whereas Alana’s is blonde. But they are roughly the same height with the same frame. Evelyn had beautiful brown eyes while Alana has stunning pale blue eyes. It’s some of Alana’s mannerisms that remind me of Evelyn. She looks up at me, and I’m still standing with my head tilted, smiling at her.

  I start to walk towards her, and as I approach, I clasp her face in my hands and lean down to kiss her very gently. Her breath hitches, and it makes me hard.

  “Thank you,” is all I say, pulling her up to me to kiss her again. She can feel how hard I am, but I can’t help it. That’s what she does to me. I know it’s all kinds of wrong, here in my daughter’s hospital room, but I have no control. She smiles at me and sheepishly looks down where she can’t mistake the tent in my PJ’s.

  “Sorry. You did that to me. Purely looking at you sometimes does that to me. I don’t have much control.” I shrug, and she puts her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. I love that I can do that to her during this devastating time.

  “I’m just going to get some coffee and a wrap. Do you want me to get you something? I know you won’t leave until Sonia gets here?”

  “Coffee would be great. Thank you. I’m not sure who’s coming today or what time. How’s Caroline this morning? I take it still no news on a donor?” She looks back at Evelina so she doesn’t have to look at me. I know she wants to break down. I turn her and pull her into my chest. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t bottle it up. Let it out.” I feel her crying into my chest.

  I hear someone approaching the door and turn my head to see Arnold at the door. He’s respecting us by hanging back. “Hey, Arnold is here now. I need to go and wash and change, and then I’ll join you for some breakfast. Is that okay?

  She wipes her eyes and looks around me to the door. “Hey, Arnold, sorry about that. Just one of my many meltdowns.” She looks up at me.

  “Caroline is still the same. There’s no news on a transplant yet. Yes, I’d love for you to join me for breakfast. I need some light adult conversation. I’ll meet you down there, Theon.” I nod as she leaves the room saying bye to Arnold.

  “How’s she holding up?”

  “By all accounts, she’s doing amazing. She only seems to let her guard down with me. I hurt so bad for her.”

  “The poor woman. She’s really going through it and to be in her own too.”

  I nod. “Do you mind if I go and grab some breakfast after I’ve changed?”

  “Not at all. You go. Have a change of scenery. I’ll call you if there is anything to report.”

  “Thanks, Arnold.” He squeezes my shoulder like he always does as he passes.

  I see Alana sitting at a table in the restaurant and head over there.

  “Hey. Thanks for the coffee.”

  We talk about stuff — nothing in particular. She’s still never asked me about my job, but I guess she will one day. Just then she gets a text, and I see the panic on her face.

  “What is it, Alana?”

  “I have to go. It’s Susan. She said Caroline isn’t good and she’s called for Dr. Cassidy.”

  “Shit, let’s go then.” We both move quickly, leaving everything on the table. We take the stairs up to ICU rather than wait for a lift. When we reach Caroline’s room, it’s bedlam.

  Alana rushes in. “Oh god, no. What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Susan rushes to Alana, and they cling to each other watching the doctors and nurses around Caroline. I stay at the door. I can’t see what’s going on, but I hear someone shout, ‘clear’ then they shock her. Fuck. I feel like I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t move. Please, don’t let her die. Please don’t. She’s just a kid. I hear the heart monitoring her heartbeat again. Thank fuck for that. I let out the breath I was holding. Alana is wailing. I move to her. I can’t help it. I want to hold her. Susan sees me and lets go of Alana who falls straight into me, clinging to me as I wrap her in my arms.

  “Shhh, baby, she’s back. Listen to her heart. Can you hear it beating? It’s slow but steady. Listen, Alana. Music to our ears, baby.” I kiss the top of her head. She stills to listen and stops crying.

  “That’s her heart beating?” I nod as I rest my chin on her head and watch. Some nurses have left — there’s only one now and Dr. Cassidy.

  “What happened, Dr.? Is she going to be okay?” I ask.

  “She crashed. I’m afraid she’s getting weaker. She’s
sedated, but her body is starting to shut down. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Tudrow. I don’t think Caroline is going to be with us for much longer. I’m still praying we get a liver for her today. You might want to have the rest of your family around to say goodbye. I know her siblings are young and that is a decision you need to make.” Alana is shaking her head, no. The doctor leaves, and it’s just the three of us remaining.

  Susan is looking at Caroline, crying. Alana is still clinging to me, crying. I’m holding her to me tightly. “Hey, baby, go and sit with your little angel and talk to her. Hold her hand and talk. Do you want Bailee and Bryan to come in and sit with her?” She shakes her head, no.

  “I can’t. She’s not going yet. I won’t give up.” She leaves me and goes to sit with Caroline, where her and Susan talk to her.

  “You know where I am if you need me.” She looks at me and nods.

  I walk into Evelina’s room. I need to be with my baby. Arnold must see I’ve been crying

  “Everything okay, son? I heard a lot of shouting and nurses rushing about. Was it Caroline?” I nod. “Yeah. The poor kid crashed, but they shocked her and brought her back. The doc said her body is failing now and she doesn’t think it will be much longer. God, Arnold. It’s so hard. She’s a little girl. Why is life so cruel?”

  “I don’t know, son. Bad things happen to good people all the time. It makes no sense.” If that was Evelina, after losing Evelyn, I think it would destroy me beyond repair. Poor Evander would lose his sister and then get a shell of a dad. It’s not going to happen. No way. I sit holding her hand and get Harry Potter out to read. I need to steer my mind in another direction. I can’t handle where it’s heading. I look out of the window to the sky and ask Evelyn in my head to wake our angel up. Please wake her up.

  10 Years Earlier

  IT’S THE DAY of the funeral, and I’m a mess. I can’t function. I’ve been dreading this day since we arranged it last week. I’ve been like a zombie. I tried to stay off the drink, and I did for a few days, but the closer this day got, the worse I got. I drank, and I don’t remember much. Arnold came to check on me two days after his last visit, and I was sitting in the cinema room with our stories playing over and over. I hadn’t had a drink, but I also hadn’t eaten or slept and looked like shit. I was merely existing. I didn’t go to bed, get washed, or changed. I think the only time I moved was to use the bathroom. He made me go for a shower while he made me some scrambled eggs on toast.