by Vivi Holt
She’d been wrong about plenty of other things, perhaps she’d misjudged them as well.
She sighed and faced Sally with a wan smile. “I can’t believe I’m going home.”
Sally arched an eyebrow. “It took you long enough.”
“I know.” She huffed. “I guess I just didn’t want to face everything. Besides, I’ve been busy.”
“With your amazing career?” Sally’s words were sarcastic, but her voice was laced with envy. How had Eve never noticed that before? Her sister spoke with such venom at times, she’d always assumed Sally didn’t like her much, but perhaps she’d been jealous all this time.
“Yes, with my career, which by the way is not so amazing at the moment.”
“Oh?” Sally glanced up from the magazine.
“I lost my visa.”
“Really?”
“Yes, so I’m not working much at the moment. I’ve applied for my green card, but I don’t know how long that will take. By the time I finally get it, my career will have lost momentum…I may never make it back to New York.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do? Get back to New York?” Sally’s brow furrowed. “But what about your husband?”
Eve bit down on her lip. What about John? She still hadn’t figured that part out herself, so she was hardly going to share it with her sister. She knew how Sally operated, as soon as she was frustrated, irritated, or jealous of something Eve said or did, she’d use whatever Eve had told her to inflict as much pain as possible.
“He’s from New York.” It wasn’t exactly an answer, but it would do for now. At least she hoped it would satisfy Sally’s curiosity.
“Ah. Well, that makes sense I guess.”
“Anyway, he supports my dreams. He’s great about that kind of thing.”
“You’re a lucky girl.” Sally returned her attention to the magazine.
“Yeah, I know.” She was lucky. She knew that. Lucky to have a chance to continue to go after her dreams. Lucky to find a husband who she actually liked even though they’d gone through an email-order service. Lucky that he’d rescued her from a fire and saved her life.
Still, none of it felt real. It felt as though she were living in a dream as if it wasn’t her life she was living but someone else’s. It would all end soon, and the date was fast approaching. She’d thought this year would stretch out endlessly and painfully, month after month. But it was flying by, and all she could think was that twelve months wasn’t long enough. She was running out of time. Butterflies swooped in her stomach and her hands clenched to the arm rests as the plane lifted off from the ground with a rush of wind and growl of engines.
John stared at the computer screen, his mind unable to process what was in front of him. The cursor blinked at the end of a line of text. He was composing an email, but in that moment, he forgot what he was trying to communicate and whom he was writing to.
His eyes squeezed shut and he linked his fingers together behind his head with a sigh.
Perhaps he should just give in and get a coffee. It wasn’t as if he was making any progress by sitting there and staring at the empty screen.
He stood to his feet and headed for the door. Lacy sat at her desk, tapping rapidly at her keyboard. She always kept busy, focused, on task. He wasn’t sure how she managed it. Nothing ever seemed to upset her, distract her, or bore her.
“Can I get you a coffee?” he asked.
She glanced up, eyebrows raised high. “Huh? Oh. Hi John, um sure, that would be nice.” Her eyes narrowed. “Everything okay?”
He shrugged. “Just distracted. Can’t seem to focus.”
She smiled. “That’s right, Eve left this morning. Didn’t she?”
He nodded. “That’s not it though, I’m just having one of those days.”
“You never have one of those days.” Her lips pursed. “It’s okay to admit you miss your wife, John. One of the benefits of being married, or at least I assume so. I’m not there yet.”
“Not long now,” John said with a wink. “I’ll grab that coffee and be back soon.”
He strode down the hall, stopped and turned back with a frown. “Uh, Lacy, how do you take your coffee?”
She laughed. “Cream with two sugars.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Two sugars? You got it.”
He was ashamed he didn’t know how she liked her coffee fixed. After all, she’d been his assistant for…how many years? He wasn’t even sure. He tried calculating the span of time she’d been sitting outside his office while he poured steaming, black coffee from the percolator in the office kitchen into two mugs but failed.
He’d have to look at his calendar.
One of the reasons he was successful was his ability to focus, to block everything else out and give his full attention to the task at hand. It was also the reason he didn’t know things like how his assistant took her coffee, how long she’d been working for him, or when he’d gotten so lonely.
It was clear to him now just how lonely his life had been before Eve came into it. Having her gone made him dread the trip home from the office that evening. Home to an empty apartment and the cold silence it would bring.
He sighed and picked up both mugs. It was driving him crazy to think about her flying across the ocean with only Sally by her side, to face the sad reality of losing her father. He should be there.
His eyes widened and he stopped mid-stride, coffee mugs held high in both hands. There was no reason why he couldn’t be there. He did have his own jet. And since he was the boss, he could take off as much time as he wanted. It wasn’t as though he was getting much done with her gone anyway.
That’s what he’d do. He’d fly to Brisbane and surprise her. He could be by her side, comfort her, support her. That was what she needed, at least he hoped she did. If it were him facing the loss of a family member, he knew who he’d want there with him: Eve.
He smiled and hurried back toward his office.
From the moment she’d climbed into the Uber with her sister at the Brisbane International airport, Eve’s pulse had raced, her armpits were drenched with sweat and her head felt light.
She was home.
Everything looked so familiar, yet strange at the same time.
The sky was different, the light brighter, the landscape washed out by the intensity of the sun. A brilliant blue sky stretched wide overhead and even though it was the end of autumn, the heat of the day matched the one she’d left in Atlanta.
“You ready to face it all?” asked Sally.
Her sister didn’t look at all as though she’d just taken a twenty-four-hour journey. Her hair shone fresh and smooth, her face looked newly made up and her eyes were bright.
Eve had glanced in the bathroom mirror right before the plane landed. What stared back at her was a reflection of a woman who’d slept soundly on one cheek, hair rubbed into knots, red marks on the side of her face, red-rimmed eyes with smudges of mascara beneath both.
She sighed. “I guess I’m as ready as I can be.”
“You know, not everything is the same as it was.”
“I’m sure that’s true. I wouldn’t expect it to be. Although, it looks pretty much the same so far.”
“Yeah, I’m just saying—things change, people change.”
“Okay.”
It wasn’t like Sally to be cryptic. But as tired as she was, Eve had no desire to push her for more information. Whatever she was referring to, Eve would find out soon enough. And that would be sooner than she wanted. If it weren’t for Dad, she wouldn’t have come back.
She loved her father, though he’d been distant throughout her childhood, working all the time then on his own in the shed, tinkering with tools and machinery when he was home.
Not that she blamed him. With a high-strung wife and two daughters who fought constantly, he’d likely been hiding out there.
Still, it meant she’d never had a close relationship with him growing up. Not the type of connection she wanted until later,
and now that she knew he was dying, all she could feel was regret. She should’ve tried harder, called more often, and visited.
She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. Her throat tightened around a lump, and she pushed it back down. Now wasn’t the time to lose control, she could do that when she was alone.
They’d decided to take the Uber directly to the hospital. It’d been Sally’s suggestion, and Eve went along with it. If things were that bad…although she struggled to imagine it. Her father had always been strong. A big, hulk of a man with a thick chest, muscular arms, and tree trunks for legs. How could he be dying?
Another sniffle and Sally wordlessly handed her a Kleenex.
“Thanks.”
“We’re almost there,” Sally assured her.
They climbed out of the car and set their luggage on the sidewalk then struggled up to her father’s room on the third floor, their bags bumping along behind them on plastic wheels.
Sally knocked on the door once. “Dad?”
She peered in, then beckoned Eve to follow. Their father lay on the hospital bed, a tube running from his nose down the side of the bed.
His face lit up at the sight of her. “Evie!”
She set down her purse and went to hug him. “Hi, Dad. Surprise!”
When she pulled back, his eyes glistened. He looked so much older than the last time she’d seen him. Thinner too. Bones protruded from his chest above the collar of his hospital gown and thin arms hung by his sides.
“This is a surprise. Look, Sandy, Evie’s here.”
Eve’s mother sat in an armchair beside the bed, a tumble of red yarn in her lap. She set her knitting needles down on a side table with a cool smile. “Eve. How nice of you to visit. How many years has it been? I thought you’d forgotten about us.”
Eve maneuvered her way around the bed and embraced her mother. “Sorry, Mom. I’ve been busy, but I’m here now. That’s what matters.”
Her mother grunted in response.
Eve took her father’s hand and squeezed it. “So, Sally tells me you’re not doing great, Dad. I wish you’d told me. I would’ve come sooner.”
He waved a hand as though to dismiss her concern. “Phsaw. I didn’t want to worry you. These doctors, they’re all doom and gloom.”
Eve arched an eyebrow. “But Dad…”
“I know, they’re saying I don’t have long.” He coughed loudly, a hacking cough that went on and on. Finally, he caught his breath. “But I guess that’s just how things go. The circle of life. You’ve got important things to do over there in New York.”
She patted his hand, her stomach tightening into a knot at the sight of his pallid face and the sound of that cough. “I’m not in New York anymore, Daddy. You know that—I’m living in Atlanta with John.”
“Huh? Oh yeah, that’s right. The husband. I haven’t met him yet, have I?”
Eve glanced at her mother who shrugged. “He forgets things.”
Eve’s throat tightened. “No, you haven’t met him, Dad. I wanted you to meet him, we just haven’t had an opportunity to visit yet. But he’s really wonderful. You’d love him.”
“I love him already,” whispered Sally with a grin.
Eve poked out her tongue.
“What was that?” asked their mother sharply.
“Nothing,” replied Sally. “I was just saying that I liked John when I met him.”
“You met him?” Mom’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes, Mom, I went to Atlanta and brought Eve home with me.”
“Now why’d you do a thing like that.” Mom resumed her knitting, a pair of half-moon glasses perched on the end of her round nose.
“I thought she might like to see Dad before it was…” Sally’s voice trailed away.
“Too late?” asked Mom.
Both girls stared at her, then looked away. She’d always had a way with words.
“Mom…” Eve started.
“What? He knows he’s dying. We know he’s dying. It’s no secret. Why not talk about it?”
Eve’s lips pursed. She glanced at her father who was studying the sheet that he’d pulled up to his neck. He burst into another fit of coughing and this time the hacking lasted longer than the time before. Eve helped him onto his side and patted his back, alarmed at how bony it felt.
When he collapsed onto the bed again, he sighed. “The cancer’s spread to my liver, they say. Can’t do much about it, I’m afraid. And it’s in my bones too. Gone all over the place, dang it.”
Eve’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
He patted her hand gently. “Nothing to be done, Buttercup.”
Chapter 18
When Eve woke up, she and her father were alone. She’d slept with her head at an odd angle and resting on the side of his bed. Her hand clutched loosely to his, and a line of drool ran down from her mouth to the damp sheet below.
She straightened, then stood, twisting her head first this way, then that, in an attempt to work out the kinks in her neck and shoulders. She grimaced. A neck was not intended to bend that way for so long. Pain radiated down one side of it, and she could feel a spasm forming in her left shoulder.
Her father lay still, his mouth slightly ajar. His breath was slow and shallow, his eyes shut.
She extricated her hand from his and then did a few more stretches.
Her mother’s knitting lay in a pile on the armchair. They couldn’t have gone far. The room was only dimly lit. She walked to the window and pulled the curtain back to see darkness outside with only the glimmer of a few stars peeking out from behind hidden clouds to shed their light.
A nurse bustled into the room and checked her father’s chart, then looked over the readings on the machine that monitored his heart rate and breathing.
“Hi,” said Eve, moving back to her father’s side and taking his hand again. “How’s he doing?”
The nurse offered her a sympathetic smile. “It’s time to say your goodbyes, I’m afraid. I’m sorry.”
Eve’s eyes widened. “What? Now?”
The nurse nodded. “Would you like me to disconnect all the alarms for you?”
“I don’t know. My mother was just here. I’ll have to find her. I don’t know.” Eve’s head spun, her thoughts in tumult. She couldn’t make a decision like that. Couldn’t be the only one here to say goodbye. Wasn’t ready to bid farewell to the only man she’d ever really loved.
“Daddy,” she whispered as the nurse quietly left the room. “I love you. You have to know that. I haven’t told you often enough, but it’s true. You’ve been a wonderful father, and I’m going to miss you.” He didn’t respond, only a longer pause between breathes. “Just hold on. I have to find Mom and Sally.”
She rushed from the room and stumbled down the long, quiet hallway. Where would they have gone? She didn’t know her way around the hospital anyway, so if they’d gone to the cafeteria, she wouldn’t even know where to look. There were no staff in sight, all she could see was a labyrinth of connected rooms joined to a series of hallways. It was impossible. She’d never find them in time.
Just then, she caught the sound of hushed conversation. It drew nearer, then Sally and her mother rounded the corner, cups of coffee in hand. There was someone else with them as well.
John.
Her throat tightened and tears sprung into her eyes. She ran to him, her grief spilling over, and threw her arms around his neck.
“You’re here,” she mumbled against his shirt. “You came.”
John laced his fingers through Eve’s and inhaled slowly. The car ride back from the funeral home was somber. No one said a word. He’d hired a limousine and they all sat facing each other, silent.
Beside him, Eve stared out the window. She’d cried herself dry over the past three days, and he’d done everything he could to be there for her. He’d held her, listened to her spew forth her regrets and promises to be a better daughter in the future. Her rants about her mother’s behavior, or
her sister’s impossible demands. He’d gone to the store to buy food, tissues, toilet paper, anything else the family had needed. None of them had been in any shape to do it.
Sandra stayed locked in her bedroom. Whenever she emerged, her hair was done, her makeup flawless, and she’d sail around the house declaring that no one understood her pain and she had no idea what she’d do now that she was completely alone. Since of course, her daughters would abandon her, that’s what they always did, and she didn’t expect anything else from them.
He had to bite his tongue at that. She was grieving. Still, he saw how the barbs pricked at Eve, how much they hurt. She kept it to herself, but she couldn’t hide the pain completely. Not from him.
The car turned into Eve’s childhood street and parked in front of her house. It was a small, three-bedroom home. An old, timber building in the Queenslander style, and painted a pale yellow with white trim.
A white picket fence edged the yard, and beyond the fence, a swimming pool shimmered in the heat of the sun. Every time he walked past it, he imagined a little Eve swimming there, or when he climbed the front steps to the long porch, he pictured her running by, squealing, laughing, perhaps playing chase or hide and seek.
The house was full of memories for her, that much she’d made clear. Some good, some hard to face. He wished she’d open up and tell him more, but he was willing to wait. She had a lot going on, and he couldn’t imagine how hard it must be for her, especially since she hadn’t seen her father in three years.
He could see the guilt written on her face, and in the way she sucked in her cheeks whenever her mother said something hurtful to remind her of it.
John climbed from the car and reached for Eve’s hand to help her. Then, he did the same for Sandra and for Sally. They walked inside the house. Some of the other mourners had already begun to arrive; all carried a plate or dish of food to share, all spoke in low murmurs, hushed conversation.
The next three hours were a blur. John spent the time either by Eve’s side, or fetching more ice from the corner store, refilling empty bowls of chips, or platters of cheese, crackers, and olives. Friends and family packed the small house full. They ate, talked, laughed low and quiet together, and cried over memories of their lost loved one.
