Top Down Day

by Nicole Overby

  Maneuvering in his chair, he faces us kids and further explains, “You know, life is like a snow globe, and God is the only one who can shake it when it’s time to watch the snowflakes fall.”

  What… What the actual hell is he talking about? My brain is not in the mood to untangle some symbolized life lesson. I need to go talk to my dad. I definitely haven’t been the most dedicated Catholic recently, but I know for certain that I don’t want to regret anything. The words of the ICU doctor telling me the night isn’t looking favorable is ringing in the back of my mind. I need to go now, before anything happens.

  Natalie

  I go to church weekly, I say my prayers every night, I thank God for the food on my plate, but I don’t think this man has any right to tell me when it’s time for my family to give up hope. We need to focus our prayers on his health, on saving him, on making deals if only God saves him.

  I simply can’t believe my ears when I hear my grandpa say, “Thank you Father. We needed to hear this.”

  This isn’t your decision! I want this priest to leave. I need this priest to leave. No one is giving up on him. We aren’t giving up hope.

  My sister and brother leave the room. I assume they are going to see my dad, but they better not be saying goodbye. This isn’t the end; it can’t be. Dad can’t think we’re losing hope. He is going to make it out of this. Sure, it will be a long journey, but he is going to be okay!

  Thomas

  Kristen stands up, and I join her outside of the room.

  “I need to go talk to him,” she says frantically.

  Quietly, I respond, “Me too.”

  As we both enter the room, nurses are running around everywhere, trying to sanitize the area and stabilize his vitals.

  Kristen reaches for his hand. She’s braver than I am, but I’m glad he can feel our touch. Her blue eyes begin to silently weep. She wants to be strong for him. After wiping her face and clearing her throat, she begins to speak.

  “Dad, it’s Kristen and Thomas here.”

  Nervously, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other before continuing.

  “We love you so much and we hope,”

  I can hear the sound of the air slowly filling her lungs as she takes a deep breath.

  “we hope you know that.”

  He knows that right? Why wouldn’t he? I look up at the nurses circling around us. They seem unphased, so unbothered by our words. I wish we had a moment to ourselves.

  “I want you to know whatever you,”

  Her pause makes the sentence awkward.

  “or God-- decide, know we will be okay.”

  Will we though? Looking up to her, I see the same doubt in her eyes.

  “We just want you to be happy.”

  Her voice is shaking while she twists the ring on her left index finger.

  Seeing how uncomfortable she looks, I chime in, “Dad, if this world is too painful, don’t stay for us.”

  I can’t believe I’m saying this.

  “You have given us so much and no matter what you choose, we love you.”

  What I really want to say is, “Dad, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately with my new job. I’m sorry I haven’t called home in a while. I’m sorry for losing hope last night during my moment alone. I pray my lack of faith didn’t lead to this. I hope you don’t think I took you for granted. I will regret not calling you more often for the rest of my life.”

  I can go on for a life-time with my guilt, but I can’t say any of it out loud, not in front of Kristen or these nurses. I feel shitty enough about myself; I don’t need anyone else judging me.

  Kristen

  Speaking to my dad only makes my guilt worse.

  I should be telling him, “I’m sorry for not coming home last weekend, Dad. Or the weekend before. I shouldn’t have gone to the St. Patty’s Day bar crawl. I should’ve been at home watching a murder mystery show with you, eating your famous popcorn, guessing who the killer is.”

  The lump in my throat grows bigger.

  “I will regret coming home one weekend too late for the rest of my life.”

  Why can’t I say this out loud? Why am I avoiding the truth?

  I guess I don't want Thomas to know how badly I fucked up.

  |11:21 PM|

  Natalie

  When Thomas and Kristen come back, they seem even more distraught than before. Both of them are crying so hard I can barely hear them breathing anymore. Did they say their goodbyes? Did the priest convince them to go say goodbye?

  “Mom, can I please talk to you outside. Now.” I hope she can hear the urgency in my voice. We need to fix this before Dad thinks they are okay with any other decision than him making it out of here alive.

  She meets me outside, but she won’t look up at me.

  “Mom, we can’t listen to him. He’s a stranger. He doesn’t know our family. I know Dad can make it out of here.”

  “No one is giving up, Natalie.”

  Brandon comes out of the private waiting room.

  “Mrs. Owen, would it be okay if I went to see Mr. Owen?”

  I forgot he hasn’t seen him since we’d gotten here.

  “Of course, honey. Do you want someone to come with you?”

  “No, this is something I would prefer to do alone.”

  Is Mom forgetting about our conversation? I look at her closely, trying to figure out where she is mentally. She has to agree with me. We have to be on the same page before it’s too late.

  Once Brandon starts to walk away, she returns her attention back to me to finish our conversation.

  “Let’s say a prayer together.”

  She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. The coldness of her hand sends shivers down my spine. Why is it freezing in here?

  “I think we both need it right now.”

  I don’t really have time for this. We need to talk to Dad, tell him we absolutely need him. But I don’t want to fight my mom too much. I also need her. I need her on my side.

  “Dear Father, we don’t understand your plan. We trust you and we don’t ask for you to explain your purpose.”

  Well no, I do want to know the purpose of this.

  “We ask for your guidance. We ask for you to shed light on our fears and help bring us together during this time. We pray for strength and courage when we feel small and anxious. We pray that we turn to you instead of away from you…”

  I stop listening as her last few words sink in.

  “We pray that we turn to you instead of away from you.”

  Am I turning away from God? Am I interjecting in His plan?

  No.

  No.

  No.

  I am helping him, I am helping my family, I am helping me.

  Tuning her out, I start my own prayer in my head. “God, please. I promise to never question your plans ever again. Just please.”

  A tear sneaks up and falls out of the corner of my right eye.

  “Please.”

  With my eyes raised, I ask one more time.

  “Please don’t take my dad, not yet.”

  - EIGHT -

  |10:51 PM|

  Brandon

  The priest’s words keep replaying in my mind, “Don’t leave anything left unsaid.” It’s all I can hear sitting in the waiting room. It’s painted on the walls, it’s buzzing from the clock, it’s everywhere.

  It feels like he was speaking directly at me when he said it. My mind races back to February; the last time Natalie and I were in Charlotte.

  I was invited to a job fair by the southern private schools in the Charlotte area. Natalie was over the moon for me; probably because she was just as much involved in the job application process as I had been. She helped me create my resumé and cover letter a month prior. She went as far as creating a LinkedIn profile for me. She always pushed for my success as hard as she did for her own. Her motivation is one of the main reasons I love her as much as I do. She never gives up on anything.

  When she found
out about the fair, she said we had to go, no matter what. So, we did. We left on a Thursday afternoon and drove the entire way to her parents’. It’d been about a month since she last came home, and being far away from home was slowly killing Natalie. Plus, we were about to tell her parents about our plans to go to Punta Cana in March. We both knew they would be upset to hear that she wasn’t coming home for spring break, and truthfully, I think she was having her own second thoughts about the trip, too. But either way, the airline tickets were purchased, so hopefully, this weekend trip would soften the blow. On Friday night, I had a happy hour with the recruiters. By the time I came home, my face hurt from smiling for hours and my small talk was worn out. All I wanted to do was eat dinner and go straight to bed.

  As soon as I walked inside from the garage, I knew my ideal plan wasn’t going to happen. I heard the entire Owen family howling at the dinner table. They were laughing a bit too hard and the music was a tad too loud. Before making it fully to the kitchen, I realized it was their usual family game night. I wasn’t in the mood to play cards, but I grabbed some leftovers from the fridge and sat down at the table anyway.

  “How was the networking hour?” Natalie asked. Her words asked genuinely, but I didn’t feel like going into the details in front of everyone. Thanks to baseball, ever since I was little, I’ve been superstitious. The last thing I wanted to do was jinx myself on any possible opportunities.

  So, my response was short and to the point. “It was fine. I think I’ll find out more tomorrow.” I was exhausted and I thought it was obvious in my voice.

  Kristen spoke next. “I’m so excited y’all are moving down here!” She adores Natalie, even though Natalie never thinks so, and I knew she was happy to have her close again. They all were. Mr. Owen always talked about this upcoming summer with such excitement. All of the kids would be back in the same city again. He already planned three vacations to celebrate.

  Natalie received a job offer six months before starting her master’s program. She had committed to Charlotte before we ever talked about how serious we were. But I’d follow her anywhere and she knew it.

  I smiled back at Kristen. I was too drained to answer her.

  A hard smack on the table made me sit up straight and widen my eyes. It threw me off and I almost spilled the beef stew shaking in my spoon. I was awake now. Searching for the noise, my eyes fell on Mr. Owen’s hand on the table. I remember how red it was from the hit.

  “Listen here, Brandon. This is the real deal. No more messing around.”

  Where was he going with this? I looked at Natalie but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. No one would. What’s going on?

  “You can’t be going into this half-hearted.”

  I could feel my heart rate rising. Obviously I knew that, Mr. Owen. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to get a job.

  Mrs. Owen stepped in, “Corey, he knows it’s serious. This isn’t your place.”

  I remember Natalie telling me her dad could be hard on them sometimes. She told me how upset she got in sixth grade when he yelled at her for saying she wanted to move to California and work on a beach when she grew up. When she told me the story, I couldn’t help but laugh. How could she not realize her dad only wanted the best for her? He wanted her to be independent, not needing someone in her life to support her. Why would she get so upset about her dad simply caring? The memory of his disappointment stuck with Natalie forever. She completely changed her aspirations that day and never looked back.

  “I’m serious,” Mr. Owen continued. “It’s the bottom of the ninth and there’s two outs. You need to step up to the plate.”

  Okay, I get it. I was getting the infamous “California talk.” I needed a job--I knew that--but all of this pressure wasn’t going to help me sleep any better before the job fair tomorrow.

  The awkwardness in the room was apparent. I was annoyed that Natalie didn’t stand up for me. She knew how hard we had prepped for this fair. As everyone started to head to bed, Mr. Owen called me into the office.

  “Brandon, I’m serious. You better take care of my little girl.”

  Did he not think I was enough?

  I never let go of my anger from that night. I was mad that he had made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for Natalie. Yet now, as we sit here, it all makes sense. How couldn’t I see it before? I need to go talk to him; tell him I’m sorry for holding this grudge for so long.

  Racing out of the room, I can barely keep my thoughts in line. Nearly running into Natalie, I ask Mrs. Owen if I can go speak to him. I don’t want to interrupt any family time, but I need to stress the urgency. I need to talk to him. Now.

  When I turn the corner, I stop to take a breath, calm my nerves before entering his room. I’m not sure if I’m ready to see him so sick and fragile, but apologizing is all I can think about. It’s pushing me forward. The nurses are probably going to wonder who I am since I don’t resemble the Owen family at all. I enter the room slowly. Not one head turns to face me. Not one set of eyes rise to greet me at the door. The nurses don’t notice I’ve entered the space to talk to Mr. Owen; they’re all consumed with their own tasks. I was hoping it could be a bit more private, but I’ll take what I can get.

  I am at a loss for words when I finally reach his bedside. This doesn’t even slightly resemble the man I’ve known for the last five years. His face looks completely different; it’s swollen and ghostly pale. The swelling around his eyes makes it appear as if it would be impossible for him to open his eyes, no matter how much he tried. I think I might pass out. I feel guilty for seeing him this vulnerable. My head sinks and I have to look down; I can’t bear to stare at his face any longer. His hands don’t provide much more comfort. The swelling of his fingers make his wedding band look like it is cutting off blood circulation. He’s too weak to do anything about it. I turn to the wall; I’m not sure where to direct my eyes anymore.

  My tears feel cold on my face. Stop crying, you have to be strong.

  “Mr. Owen, I hope you’re not mad I came to see you.”

  He’s probably pissed people are seeing him this way, especially his kids.

  “On the brighter side, I decided to switch out of my Eagles shirt from this morning.”

  Kristen had been the first one to notice my shirt this morning. She said it might be a good thing I was wearing it; the sight of it would piss him off enough to wake him up from the sedation. But, now, I’m not sure anything can wake him up from the induced coma-- not even Natalie taking his Audi for a spin.

  “I just wanted to come in and tell you…” I stop.

  Why can’t I keep going? My throat is closing in and I wonder if I have enough room to breathe anymore. Come on Brandon, get it together. I remind myself of the priest’s words. Don’t leave anything left unsaid.

  “I want you to know how sorry I am for being upset with you for this long. It’s your job as a dad to be protective over your girls. I know I’m not good enough for Natalie,”

  I pause to gather my composure before carrying on.

  “But I will do everything in my power to give her what she deserves. I will care for her even when she’s being stubborn, I will be there to listen to her vent when she gets pissed off, and I will be enough of a man to step back and watch her career succeed beyond mine.”

  Mr. Owen always talks about how successful he thought she could be. I know he wants to make sure I would be okay with her being the breadwinner. But, more importantly, I know he wants to make sure I understand my broader responsibility… her family.

  “I’ll be there when Kristen brings home a guy. I will question his intentions as much as you did with me.”

  I have to take a break to wipe my nose with my sleeve. Fuck, this is harder than I imagined.

  “I’ll be there for Thomas when he needs a wingman. I’ll even pick up the wings for Sunday football.”

  This is quite a commitment, Mr. Owen.

  “Unless the Eagles are playing.”

  Damn it, I know that won’t
be enough for him.

  “Fine, I’ll make an exception but it’s going to have to be the wing place down the road even if they aren’t as good as the wings off Providence Road.”

  The slightest chuckle spits out of my throat, and I can feel the tension in the room lighten.

  “I’ll take care of the yard for Mrs. Owen, and step up to support your girls when Thomas has to travel.”

  “I will prove myself to you for the rest of my life.”

  I need to thank him for everything he has given me in case I never have the chance to again.

  “Thank you for letting me come on countless family vacations. Thanks for making me feel welcomed from the first day I drove down to meet everyone, thanks for pushing me to be a better man for Natalie, and thanks for always giving me shit for being an Eagles fan.”

  Thanks for being a role model of a loving husband, of a supportive father.

  “I love Natalie, Mr. Owen. I love your family. I’ll do my best to take care of them.”

  No one will do as good of a job as you have. No one will be able to provide the lifestyle you have. Fuck.

  I wipe my eyes before leaving the room, but I know it doesn’t help. I can’t stop the tears from pouring down my face. I try to sniff any evidence of my runny nose, but it’ll be impossible to hide it. I have to get a job before I graduate. Everything is on the line now.

  |11:34 PM|

  Natalie

  My prayer is interrupted as my mom starts walking away. Did she finish her prayer?

  Jolting my head around, I watch her wrap her arms around Brandon. Tension softens in my body as I realize how much pain everyone is in. I can’t remember if I’ve ever seen Brandon cry this hard.

  Why is he crying so hard?

  What is going on?

  My mind starts sprinting to possible answers. Is Dad still alive?

  Sprinting towards his room, my heart drops when I can finally make out the familiar beeping of his monitors.

  Thank goodness. My breathing is loud and heavy. I thought he might be gone. Hunched over, I try to slow down my heart rate. Why is Brandon crying so hard then?