by Lonnie Doris
“Sir, we need to load her into the ambulance.” I step back so they can move her as I follow behind them.
“Run to the bistro and get Grace.” I throw my keys to him. “The SUV is in the parking lot next to the ice cream shop. Have Grace drive you to the hospital.”
I’m not leaving her. I climb into the ambulance and sit next to the gurney, taking hold of Robyn’s hand. I’ve never been much for praying, but I am finding myself praying the whole ride. More like bargaining.
Once we’re inside the hospital, they whisk her away from me. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing at the double doors they took her through when Trenton and Grace reach me.
“Dad…” Trenton puts his hand on my shoulder.
I turn and grab him into a hug. Grace joins us. I hold on to them and feel myself breaking on the inside.
“C’mon, let’s go sit in the waiting room until they come talk to us,” Grace urges.
I struggle with myself to listen to her or leave this spot.
“I can’t leave her, Grace…” Tears stream down my face. “That’s my life in there.”
“You’re not leaving her. The waiting room is ten feet away from this door.”
I nod, and we walk to the waiting room.
“Was that fucker drunk, Trenton?” I scrub my hands over my face, remembering the anger I felt when that man was standing there, pleading with the cops.
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Then why was he begging for forgiveness?”
“From what I was told, he robbed a store and was trying to outrun the cops.” Trenton pauses to wipe his own tears that have pooled in his eyes. “It happened so fast, Dad. Mom and I were laughing and talking about this week’s game…”
I pull him into my arms. My son is a tough kid, but I know exactly how he feels. His mom is just as much his world as she is mine. I let him go when I hear the waiting room door open, turning to see a nurse walk in.
“Mr. Kirkman?”
“How’s my wife?”
“She has some internal injuries. She’s going to need surgery so we can stop the bleeding. She has lost a lot of blood, and our supply is low right now.”
“Take mine. Take every fucking drop out of my body and give it to her.” Seeing her reaction, I realize my tone is harsher than I want it to be.
“We can definitely test your blood to see if you’d be a match…” She pauses, looking at Trenton. “And your son’s too.”
She leads Trenton and me down a long hallway to get our blood drawn, to see if either of us is a match. After we’re done, Trenton and I walk back to the waiting room. Grace is looking out the window. I take a seat along the wall and put my head in my hands.
Please, God. Please. Take me. I’ll go right now if you just let Robyn live. Trenton needs her. Please, God. I have done some really messed-up stuff. You’ve spared me more times than I can count, but please don’t take her.
Grace sits down next to me and places her hand on my shoulder. I don’t lift my head. I continue my silent prayer.
What seems like an eternity passes before the waiting room door opens again. I look up to see a middle-aged man in scrubs walk in. I stand up and walk toward him.
“Is my wife okay?”
“She will be. We stopped the bleeding and fixed the tear in her spleen.”
“When can we see her?”
“The nurse will come get you when she is moved in to a room. But…” He pauses to look around the room. “I need you to step outside with me. There are some other things I need to discuss with you.”
“Anything you need to discuss with me can be done right here with my son and Grace,” I insist.
“This isn’t about your wife.” He pulls a piece of paper from the clipboard he is holding. “There were some findings in the bloodwork we did on you to see if you’d be a match.”
“What did it say?”
“Mr. Kirkman, I really think we should talk about this somewhere else.”
“Doctor…what is your name?” Grace glances at his hospital badge. “Dr. Jornsen, just get to the meat of the coconut. We’re his family. We face everything together.”
Damn, I adore Grace. She doesn’t care who she is talking to; she will tell you how it is in a hot minute. I’m so thankful for her, too. She is a huge part of this family. Trenton sees her as his honorary grandmother. He even calls her Gigi.
Dr. Jornsen looks to me and then back to Grace and then over to Trenton, who is now standing on the other side of me.
“Your bloodwork shows signs that you may have liver disease, possibly cirrhosis.”
I hear Grace gasp and look at Trenton to see a haunted look on his face. My son has been in a car accident, is worried about his mother, and now has to hear there may be something wrong with me. Maybe Dr. Jornsen was right; I should have stepped out of this room to speak to him.
“So, what do I need to do?” I know what cirrhosis of the liver is. I’m actually surprised it took this long to surface. I’ve spent most of my life—until Robyn saved me—drinking myself into a stupor daily.
“We can get you set up with a specialist who will run more tests and be able to diagnose you properly. Cirrhosis isn’t the only thing that could cause those levels to be elevated.”
ROBYN
Tommy got the confirmation that he has cirrhosis of the liver a few weeks after I was discharged from the hospital for the injuries I sustained when that guy T-boned my car.
He made one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to when he opted for no treatment, other than oral medication that could slow the progression. It’s not that he wants to die, but the risk factors of surgery outweigh the benefits.
We have decided to live each day like it is his last. At first, I was inconsolable. I don’t want to lose him as much as he didn’t want to lose me the day of the accident. Leave it to Grace to be the voice of reason for me and for Trenton.
The specialist said Tommy could live a productive life for another two to five years, as long as he takes the medication, alters his diet, and doesn’t drink a drop of alcohol. Leaving the alcohol alone and taking the medication are the easiest of the three. Tommy likes his salt, but now he needs to cut it out entirely.
A few years later, when I am going through some paperwork to make sure all of our affairs are in order when the inevitable happens, I come across a letter he wrote to Layla. I ask him if he is going to send it to her, and he just shrugs.
So now, here I stand, in front of her house. If my stubborn husband won’t give it to her, then I will. I take one last deep breath before ringing the doorbell.
“Hi, can I help you?” Layla asks with a smile when she opens the door.
“Hi, Layla…” I pause. “My name is Robyn…Robyn Kirkman.” Her eyes widen in shock. “I’m Tommy’s wife.”
“Wife? I thought you were about to tell me you were my sister.” Her tone is harsh and full of hate for him.
I grimace, knowing she has the right to dislike me since I represent a part of her past she probably doesn’t want to deal with, but I have to do this for Tommy. “May I come in and talk to you, please?”
“Did the old man send you to beg me for forgiveness?” She smirks, and the action reminds me so much of both my husband and son, I have to fight a smile.
“No, he doesn’t even know I’m here.” My answer gets her to open the door for me instead. “Thank you,” I reply as I follow her to the living room. She motions for me to sit down on the couch.
“Excuse me for being blunt, but what could you possibly need to talk to me about?” She doesn’t hesitate to ask.
“I know what he did and said to you when you were younger, but Tommy isn’t the same man you knew.”
“He actually told someone about me, after I had to sign an NDA that I would never speak his name?” She laughs. “There’s a shock.”
“When I met Tommy, he was a very broken man. He had been that way for most of his life.” I rub my hands together, rememberin
g the man Tommy was when we met, when he saved my life. “Our story is a tad on the complicated side, but the CliffsNotes version is he saved my life, and in turn, I saved his.” I smile.
“So, what do you want from me?”
“I want you to read this.” I pull out the letter I found and hand it to her.
I watch her as she opens it and reads it. She is trying to fight the tears from pooling in her chocolate-brown eyes. Tommy’s eyes. When she is done, she folds it back and sets it in her lap.
“A little too late, don’t you think?” she chokes out, wiping that one tear that managed to escape from her eye.
“It doesn’t have to be.” I look her square in the face. “Come see him. If for nothing else, for you to get closure. You don’t have to make any commitments to him. Just come see him. Talk to him yourself. You’ll see he has changed and isn’t the same person.”
“The best I can give you is I’ll think about it.” She shrugs.
“I’ll take that.” I hand her my card. “Call me when you’ve made up your mind.” I stand to leave, but she stops me.
“Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee?”
“You want to have coffee with me?” I ask, confused.
“I want to hear the long version of this ‘he saved you, you saved him’ story.”
So, for the rest of the afternoon, we sit in her kitchen, drinking coffee while I tell her the long version of Tommy Kirkman and me.
Epilogue
LAYLA
I spent a few days thinking about what Robyn and I talked about. I couldn’t tell Jesse about it, so I called the only other people—besides Emmie, of course— from whom I could draw support. Lana and Lucy.
I hate keeping things from Jesse. But he would lose his mind if he knew I was contemplating going to see Tommy Kirkman. The last time he saw Tommy, Jesse was severely beaten by his bodyguards for punching Tommy while defending my honor.
Based on the information Robyn gave me, Tommy was trying to protect me from himself…in his own way. I learned a lot of new things about Tommy Kirkman that day. A small piece of me felt sorry for him. He lost his first love before his career started, then he got wrapped up with Rich Branson as his manager. From the stories I heard about that guy from Emmie, he was a real douchebag. Tommy used alcohol and drugs to numb his pain.
I know about that defense mechanism—at least what I saw Lana go through with Drake in the early days.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Layla?” Lana asks as she and Lucy walk with me out of my house.
“I’m very sure, Lana.” I take her by the hand. “Besides, aren’t you the one who said I need to get my own closure? I’m going there to get just that for myself.”
“So, does this mean Tommy Kirkman is my grandfather?” Lucy asks with a frown.
“No, baby,” I say with a grimace. “He is just Tommy Kirkman. I’m pretty sure we aren’t going to be one big happy family by the time we leave there.”
The drive to Tommy’s house is a relatively short one. He has lived this close to me all these years, and we never ran into each other. This house definitely doesn’t look like the mansion he used to live in. It looks like he threw down a few million to get it, just a lot smaller in size.
We pull into the driveway and get out of the car. When we approach the door, I take a deep breath and knock, grabbing hold of Lana’s and Lucy’s hands as we wait for the door to open.
When I called Robyn to tell her I decided to come talk to Tommy, I told her I would be bringing them with me. She understood my need to have my own lifelines with me.
The door opens, and I gasp. Tommy Kirkman is standing in front of me. He doesn’t look like the same person I had run-ins with all those years ago. His hair has more gray than it does cinnamon, his eyes have dark circles under them, but for the first time, when he sees me, they actually light up.
TOMMY
I open the door to find my chocolate eyes looking back at me. I didn’t get mad at Robyn when she told me she had gone to talk to Layla. Deep down, I was actually grateful.
“Hi, Layla,” I rasp out.
“This is my sister, Lana, and my daughter, Lucy,” she introduces instead of returning the greeting.
“Please come in. We can talk in the living room.” I open the door wider, so they can walk in, still holding Layla’s hands. “Would anyone like anything to drink?”
“No, thank you,” they say in unison.
“Please sit down. Make yourselves comfortable,” I offer as I sit in my favorite lounger and they sit together on the couch.
“I’ve read the letter you wrote to me.” Layla jumps right in. I really shouldn’t have expected anything less from her.
“I meant every word.” I rub my hands together. “I was a broken man. I cared for Lydia—really, I did, but I couldn’t give her what she wanted. She stayed with me for a while—”
“Wait, what?” Layla interrupts me. “She told me she was a one-night stand.”
“She wasn’t. I cared for her.” I take a deep breath, remembering those days. “She stayed with me at the other house for a little while. When she was getting too close, I let her go…” I pause, needing to be completely honest. “Actually, I had Rich get rid of her for me.”
“And what about when she told you she was pregnant?”
“She didn’t tell me. I found out from Rich. He paid her twenty grand to go away. Then when you were born, she served me with papers for child support, and I paid her a million dollars. I thought that would set you up for a good life.”
“Did you know she was sixteen?”
I feel like I’m being interrogated, but I deserve this. I should have had this conversation with Layla long ago.
“No, she told me she was twenty. I didn’t check her ID. I took her word for it,” I explain.
“Why did you treat me like I was trash?” Her chin trembles, but she quickly steadies it as her sister and daughter tighten their hold on her hands. “I was an innocent child in this equation.”
“I didn’t think I was good enough to be your dad, Layla. That’s the simple truth of the matter. I was running from my own demons, even when you showed up on my bus when you were sixteen.” I rub my hands over my face. “I struggled with not embracing you. I thought I was helping you by acting like you were nothing to me. I have regretted that and the incident with Jesse at my house for a lot of years.”
“Jesse cared about you, and you had your goons beat him senseless.” I can see the tears pooling in her eyes at the memory of that night.
“Again, I thought I was doing you a favor. I knew Jesse and how he treated women. I thought you were too good for him.” I shrug. “When he turned on me inside the house and chose you over our friendship, my demented brain thought for sure he wouldn’t stay with you if I had my security team beat his ass.”
“So, you did it for me?” She scoffs.
“In my own way, yeah, Layla, I did.”
“Robyn told me about how you two met and who she is…Maddie’s sister.”
“Yes, Maddie was my first demon. You were my second, and my favorite.” I swallow hard. “At least, that’s how I referred to you.”
“She told me that too. You relapsed when you read a news alert that I was being rushed to the hospital and grabbed a bottle.”
“I did.” I lower my head, remembering I almost lost my Robyn that day because of my demons. “I’m not expecting a happily ever after for us, Layla. I just want you to understand I am truly sorry. I wish I could change the past, but I can’t. I made my life what it is. All of the ugly that came with it sits squarely on my shoulders. I still believe you deserved better than the man I was back then.”
“Thank you for your letter,” she says as she wipes away her tears. “I’m glad you got your life sorted and were able to put your demons where they needed to be. We—” she waves her hand between herself, Lana, and Lucy “—know about demons. Drake, Lana’s husband, had his share, as I’m sure you know. And Lucy has h
ad her own. I, more than anyone, know about mistakes parents make.”
We sat and talked for another couple of hours before Robyn came home with Trenton. They joined in on the conversation for a little while. Watching my daughter and my son interact was a surreal moment. Layla got the worst of me, and Trenton got the best of me. I will always have regrets when it comes to Layla. But damn, I’m proud of her.
She let me hug her as they were leaving. I held her tight, soaking it all in. That would be the only good memory I would have of her. We agreed there wouldn’t be a big family reunion and a happily ever after. But she came, we talked, and I’m content.
Once they pull out of the driveway, I turn to my wife and son and hug them tight. I don’t know how many days I have left, but each day is theirs.
Tommy’s Letter to Layla
Dear Layla,
I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but as I come to the end of my life, there are some things I need to tell you.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for the way I treated you when you came to see me when you were sixteen. What I should have done was pull you into my arms and never let go. I should have shown you that I carry your newborn picture in my wallet.
I’m sorry for how I treated you when I saw you in my house with Jesse. Again, I should have wrapped you in my arms and never let go.
I was a broken man. I thought back then I was destined to be broken forever, and I didn’t want that to taint you.
Not that it matters now, but I’m proud of you. You beat the odds and made a great life and family for yourself.
There hasn’t been one day that has gone by that I don’t think about you and what could have been if I hadn’t thought only of myself.
Deep in my heart, I do truly love you.
Tommy
Playlist
“Love Hurts” by Nazareth
“In My Veins” by Andrew Belle
“These Streets” by Paolo Nutini
