by Natalie Ann
“Justin,” Tanner McConnell said when he answered the phone. “How are things going?”
“They’re going,” he said. Tanner lived two down from him and that was how they met. He was an engineer and a pretty laid back guy. The two of them would watch some games together or go to a bar for a beer when his schedule allowed. Neither of them seemed to be able to hold onto a woman for some reason.
“How is your father?”
“Grouchy and stubborn as ever. Got through the third treatment. Two weeks from now is the halfway point, if his count is good. It was close this week.”
“Sorry about that. At least you’re in a good spot to relax. Anything to even do there?”
He laughed. “Not a whole heck of a lot. I just realized I haven’t talked to you but I’m on loan at the local hospital about twenty minutes from here. It’s killing time and keeping me busy when I’m not dealing with my father.”
“I figured you couldn’t sit still. No fishing and hiking for you,” Tanner said.
“Heaven forbid,” he said. It’d always been a running joke how many people left the city to go experience nature for a few hours a week. They had no clue what it was like to live in it all the time. Neither did Tanner since he grew up around Rochester too.
“Everything is good at your place still,” Tanner said. “No loud parties yet.”
He laughed. Tanner had said he was going to throw a few parties in Justin’s place so no one complained it was coming from his own townhouse. “Drink a few beers for me when you decide to have one.”
“Will do. So how is the view there with the locals?”
The view meant the ladies. “I don’t have much time to appreciate the view, but there is someone.”
“Now this conversation is getting good. Fill me in.”
“Just someone who moved back recently. I didn’t know her back then as she’s younger than me, but I knew her brother. He was just a year behind me.”
“So no one you grew up with and are reconnecting? Those are the best for the short term.”
“Nope. But it is short term whatever we’ve got. Right now it’s just been a few dinners.” He wouldn’t add he wanted it to be much more.
“Plenty of time to turn it into more and you know it.”
“I do. I’ve got enough pressure and stress in my life so I don’t need that.”
“You never let anyone see you stressed or under pressure. You’re probably the calmest guy I know and I suppose it has to do with your job.”
“My father is usually the only person who can break that. He’s gotten close a few times, but so far I’m keeping it in check.”
“Well, keep in touch. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Tanner. I owe you.”
“Nah. It’s nothing to just walk over and make sure no one is squatting in your place.”
Justin laughed and hung up, then leaned back in the chair looking out in the distance. Many lived on the lake around here, but his parents always liked the mountain view. He was fine with either now. It was only temporary anyway, but it sure the hell beat sitting in his cramped dingy apartment here.
He wasn’t sure what was worse. Being there or here.
As long as his father was napping it wasn’t that bad.
He got up to see what food was in the fridge. He was dying for something sweet and wished he’d gotten a cookie or two for himself when he bought them for the nurses, but his father shouldn’t be eating the sugar today and he didn’t want to do it in front of him.
He didn’t find anything other than fruit, so he grabbed some cherries and went back out to the deck wishing that he had one of Taryn’s little blueberry tarts she’d dropped over to him on Sunday.
They’d had no plans for the day and he was going to reach out to her at some point, but she showed up knocking on his door around noon saying she had a treat for him.
To him, her lips were the treat and he captured them fast and held on long.
He’d looked at what she had in the little bakery box and his mouth started to water again. She’d said she’d made them for Kennedy and Logan and a few for him.
But rather than sit there and eat them, they went to the restaurant for lunch below him. He knew it might have been a mistake because Ashley was working and saw them and came over to chat. Then twenty minutes later his mother showed up too when he’d figured she would have been home.
They knew he was on a date, but neither of them said a word about it since. After their lunch was done, they went back to his place, had the dessert she brought, just splitting one, then spending the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the little balcony attached to his apartment looking out over the golf course.
“Do you golf?” he asked her.
“Nope. Never really got into it. How much have you been golfing since you’ve been here?” she asked him.
“Not much. Once or twice a week. Normally later at night when it’s slow, I’ll just go to the driving range and take some aggression out that way. If not, I grab a cart and hit a few holes when no one is around.”
She laughed. “I probably would have done that too. Maybe you’ll have to teach me how to hit a ball so I can do that if I’m having a bad day. Of course I’ve got the shooting range too.”
“Then maybe you can take me there.”
“Sounds like a good time,” she said. “Sharing a little bit of both of our worlds from when we were kids.”
“There is a lot I’d like to share with you,” he’d said, and she smirked at him but didn’t say anything else.
She’d given him one hell of a kiss goodbye and he went to watch TV before he had to get up and start the day with his father.
And when his phone went off just now, he looked down to see a text from Taryn asking how he was doing. It was almost like she knew he might be needing to hear from her when he never needed that from another woman before.
Instead of telling her how the day was going, he lied and typed back, Not bad.
15
Life On Hold
Justin pulled into his parents’ driveway a little before seven the next morning and went in the back door. His mother was finishing up her coffee when she was normally ready to dash out the door.
“How’s he doing?”
“Moving slow. He’s still in bed.”
“Has he eaten or drunk anything, taken any anti-nausea meds?”
“Nothing,” she said. “He was restless last night and hasn’t had anything to drink since before bed.”
Which meant it was going to be a rough day. If his father wasn’t drinking then he must have felt he couldn’t keep it down and didn’t want to get sick in front of his wife again. He was prideful and felt it made him look weak.
“I’ll let him sleep and then go check in on him soon. He needs to keep fluids in him.”
His mother’s eyes filled. “I tried. I don’t know what he’s feeling, but I’m not used to him being like this. It doesn’t feel right to lecture him.”
He snorted. “He needs it. He’s making it harder on himself than it needs to be. No one is saying this is a walk in the park, don’t think that. But he could lessen some of his suffering if he wasn’t so stubborn.”
“He thinks it’s weak to take the meds.”
“I’m never going to understand what goes through his head. No one thinks anyone going through cancer is weak. If anything, they think the opposite. It’s not for the faint of heart and he should know that. We’ve known lots of people who have gone through it.”
“It’s different when you’re going through it yourself,” she said.
“I know. I understand. I’ll take care of him today even if he doesn’t want it.”
“I can’t thank you enough for putting your life on hold for this. I know your father and you don’t get along, and though he won’t admit it, he is glad you’re here.”
“If you say so.”
And a few hours later he was pretty sure his father was thinking the exact o
pposite.
“Leave me alone,” his father growled as he turned over on the bed.
“You’ve been throwing up for three hours,” he said. “I’m concerned you are going to dehydrate. Then you’ll have to go in for IV fluids. I’d think in your mind that would be worse than taking a damn pill that makes you feel a little loopy and lets you sleep.”
“Fine,” his father said. “Give it to me.”
He went to the kitchen and got the pill, shocked it’d taken this long to convince his father to take it. Between the vomiting and the diarrhea he was ready to put his father in the car for IV fluids regardless. He knew what he was looking at and if it didn’t get better and they couldn’t keep some fluid in him, there’d be no choice.
When he came back he handed over the bottle of Gatorade and put the pill into his father’s shaking hand. “If you had been drinking throughout the night it wouldn’t be this bad. Why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t want to throw up in front of your mother again,” he said, swallowing the pill. “Last week she was upset seeing it.”
“Really? That’s what this is about? You think if you get it all out while she is gone it passes faster? Or do you just want to torture me and give us something else to fight about?”
His father didn’t answer him, but Justin figured it had more to do with the first part of the statement. That if he spent the day throwing up with his son, then his wife wouldn’t see him and it’d be gone by the time she got home. He was going to learn that wouldn’t happen.
And it didn’t take long before his father was moving back into the bathroom, but he didn’t make it and Justin was there with the pan to catch it before it all hit the floor. That didn’t even stay in five minutes.
He set it down when his father was done heaving and then helped him toward the bed again. “The bathroom,” his father said. “I’ve got to go now.”
The last thing either of them needed was a mess in his father’s pants so he ushered him in fast while his father slammed the door in his face.
Enough was enough in his eyes. He never lost his temper and he was damn close to it.
He pulled his phone out and called the doctor’s office. “This is Dr. Justin Cambridge calling for Dr. Willis.” Yep, he was pulling rank calling like it was an official capacity and he didn’t care. Otherwise, he’d get sent to the nurse’s station and most likely would have a message taken.
“Justin, how is your father doing? I’m assuming this call is about him.”
“It is. He hasn’t had anything solid in about twelve hours. He can’t keep water down let alone any sports drinks. He’s in the bathroom right now with diarrhea. I finally got him to take one of his pills and he threw it right up. What are my options before we get to IV fluids or I bring him in for meds through his port which we know he won’t be happy with.”
“I’ll give you a script for Zofran. It won’t tire him out or make him loopy like he’s saying. He is playing down the nausea to me. You’re in the room for those visits.”
“I know he is. It’s his body and for now it hasn’t been this bad. But I know each treatment will cause it to be worse and last longer.”
“It will,” Dr. Willis said. “I’d say this is a bit unorthodox, but if you want to get a Zofran injection, I’ll check to see if our pharmacy here has one. There is no need to bring him out and around sick people when you can give it to him yourself and assure it’s in his system.”
“He’ll love that his son is going to give him a shot in the ass.”
Dr. Willis laughed. “You can give it in his thigh.”
“I’m aware of that. I should give it in his ass though because if he thinks vomiting in front of his wife makes him weak, maybe me giving him that shot will knock some sense into him.”
“Hang on while I check with the pharmacy.” He walked back toward his father’s room and saw the bathroom door still shut. “Are you still there, Justin?”
“I’m here,” he said.
“They are getting the injection and tablets ready now if you want to swing by to get them. Just go to the front desk. These won’t make him sleepy or loopy by any means, but he needs to drink, as they will constipate him and most likely will stem the urge to urinate. Then we run the risk of kidney or bladder infections.”
“Got it. Thanks. I’ll be there shortly.”
When Justin heard the toilet flush, he waited for the door to open and then helped his father into bed. “Who were you talking to?” his father asked.
“Dr. Willis. You’ve got two choices. First choice—and the smarter of the two—you lie down and rest until I get home with an anti-nausea shot and different pills that won’t make you sleepy but have other side effects. Or number two, you continue this way and go to the hospital for IV fluids for the night.”
“You’re just enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He ran his hands through his hair. “Why on earth would you think I enjoy watching my father go through this? I’m doing everything in my power to care for you so Mom doesn’t have to see you like this. You didn’t want me here, so if I didn’t come would you put Mom through this or would have followed doctor’s orders better so she didn’t see you suffer?”
“She doesn’t need to see me like this. I’m supposed to take care of her. That’s a man’s job. A husband’s job.”
“Newsbreak. Mom is one of the toughest women I know. She’s been married to you long enough to prove it. Make a decision, Dad, or I’m making it for you.”
“Go get the shot and pills.”
“Smart answer.”
He waited until his father was settled in bed and made sure he was comfortable, then drove the ten minutes to the doctor’s office, got what he needed and left. When he returned, his father was flipping through the TV channels. “Now what?” his father said.
“Now you drop your sweats so I can give you this injection in your thigh and be thankful it’s not your ass.”
“You’d love that.”
He snorted. “It’s not my lifelong dream to see my father’s bare ass.”
His father actually laughed. He opened the alcohol swab he’d gotten out of the bathroom, cleaned the area off, then injected the fluid into his father’s thigh.
“How long does it take to work?”
“Not long. About fifteen minutes. If you can wait a little longer, we’ll try some more Gatorade and move slowly from there.”
Thirty minutes later his father was drinking tentatively, but it was better than nothing. And an hour later more than half the bottle was gone and the urge to vomit with it. Even the diarrhea seemed to have lessened.
“Can I try something to eat?” his father asked when Justin walked back in to see him resting and watching TV.
“There’s some soup and maybe toast or crackers. I wouldn’t try much more than that.”
His father said, “Fine,” and he left the room to get it for him.
Several hours later Justin was in the living room when he heard the garage door open and his mother come in the back door. “How is he?”
He nodded his head for his mother to go on the deck. “It’s not been a good day.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, her eyes filling immediately.
“Because he would have only gotten more ornery. I took care of it. That’s why I’m here.”
“Tell me. I should ask more and I don’t. That’s wrong of me.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “We are all doing what we can to cope. It’s the same reason Ashley doesn’t come visit and sees him at the course when he’s doing better. It’s what Dad wants too.”
“But it doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it bothers me,” he said. “But I am more equipped to deal with it. Though you do need to know what happened today.”
He explained it all while she listened and sniffled, then got angry. “I don’t know why he won’t take the damn pills.”
“You can talk to him about it. But I gave him
the injection and he’s better. He even said he isn’t sleepy or doesn’t feel drugged. Knowing that, I think he won’t fight it now. There are tablets that he just puts on his tongue to dissolve. He had the shot around eleven and it’s good for about eight hours. He’s been able to drink a few bottles of water and a large bottle of Gatorade. He had some soup and crackers too.”
“Does he still have the runs?”
“I think he does a little but nothing that is too concerning. Keep his diet bland and I want him drinking more. These pills will cause constipation and lessen the urge to urinate. We don’t want any infections. Wake him if you need to to keep the pills in him every eight hours. Tomorrow we can try to wean him off and see how it is, but I’m not rushing it.”
“He’s almost always better by Wednesday night.”
“He usually is,” he agreed. “But he was worse this time. And he is going to be like this or worse next time and the next. You both need to recognize that. The drugs are starting to compound in his body.”
“I know,” she said. “I don’t think he does.”
“I think he does now.” He stood up and pulled her up to give her a hug. “We’ll get through this. It’s hard not to hammer him over the head to see reason but maybe he’s getting there.”
“He appreciates that you are here even if he doesn’t say that.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” he said, “but if you believe it, then that’s good enough.”
“Why don’t you stay for dinner?”
“No,” he said, laughing. “I’ve had enough today. Call me if you need anything or anything changes with him. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.”
He got in his SUV and left but had no desire to go back to his dark cramped apartment. Instead he found himself driving to Taryn’s to see if she was home.
And when he pulled into the parking lot and saw her car, he made his way to the doorbell, then dropped his hand and turned. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to see her, but maybe he could walk down to the water and clear his head first.
