Steady (Indigo)

by Robinson, Ruthie

  “It will be okay,” she said, as much to Colburn as to herself. They waited a little over an hour before a doctor entered the room. He looked as young as she in those blue scrubs she always associated with doctors. He was tall and African-American, good-looking and confident.

  “James Colburn,” he said.

  “That’s me,” Colburn said, walking over to the doctor, Katrina at his side.

  “Hello,” he said, extending his hand to Colburn, giving them both a quick glance.

  “I’m Dr. Charles Gaston, the attending surgical physician for your partner, Charles Abernathy. He is your partner, I understand?”

  “Yes,” Colburn answered.

  “Well, we’ve run several tests. He has had a heart attack caused by a partial blockage in the left ventricle leading to the heart. Luckily for him, his heart has not sustained any damage. It will, however, require angioplasty.”

  “Okay,” Colburn said.

  “Angioplasty is surgery where we open a blood vessel partially blocked by plaque buildup so that blood can flow through it more easily to the heart.”

  Katrina listened as he continued his explanation, his eyes directed at Colburn. He seemed knowledgeable and confident for one so young, but maybe he was older than he looked. She couldn’t tell.

  “When will the surgery take place?” Katrina asked.

  “Hopefully Monday, but I’ll know for sure before I leave. After he’s stabilized, he’ll be transported to the Coronary Care Unit on the fourth floor, where he’ll remain until surgery.”

  “How long will he need to remain in the hospital?” Katrina asked.

  If everything goes well, he should come back to the CCU unit for a few days, then he’ll be moved to one of our step-down units, where less monitoring is required. If that goes well, maybe he can leave by the end of the week. But that is if everything works in our favor,” he said.

  “How dangerous is the surgery?” Katrina asked.

  “Surgery is always serious business; this isn’t any different. But Mr. Abernathy seems to be in fairly good condition otherwise, so he should be fine.”

  “Can we see him?” Colburn asked.

  “Not right now. We are still running a few minor tests. I’ll have the nurse notify you as soon as you can.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Colburn and Katrina said. He smiled and walked out the door just as quietly as he’d entered. She and Colburn walked back to their chairs and sat to wait. An hour later, they were able to see Charles. Katrina found him lying there with tubes attached to his body. He gave her a smile as she walked over to stand next to him.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, smiling back.

  “Fine, now that you’re here. How is my favorite goddaughter today?”

  “I’m your only goddaughter,” she said, squeezing his hand and bending over to kiss his hand. “I’m not going to stay long because I know Colburn really wants to be here giving you a hard time. So you take care and I’ll see you after they move you,” she said, bending over to kiss him again.

  “I love you, Uncle C,” she said, looking into his eyes.

  “I know. Love you back.”

  She turned and walked back to the waiting room, where Colburn sat. His eyes lifted up, surprised.

  “That was quick.”

  “I know. Why don’t you go back again. I’ll sit here until he is ready to go up.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  “Yep, I’m sure. You go ahead. I know he loves me more, but he’s used to seeing you,” she said, smiling.

  About an hour later, Colburn came out and they both walked to the waiting area on the fourth floor, deciding to stop at a vending machine on the way before making their way to where they would be spending the night. The doctor, looking more tired now, found them there after checking in on C. He would have surgery in the morning.

  ***

  She was tired. There was nothing nice about sleeping in the waiting room of a hospital. She remembered it from her parents’ time here, short as it had been. There were people who spent a good deal of time at the hospital, waiting for their loved ones to improve. They’d known to secure the couches for the night. There was one couch left, and she wanted Colburn to sleep on it; she had to argue a while before he would take it, only to have him give it up to an older woman who arrived later. She knew he wouldn’t lie down. He was too strong and old-school to lie down, a throwback to the days when men were men. She pulled two chairs together to form a makeshift bed, leaving Colburn to his chair, and tried to get some sleep. She missed Will.

  She didn’t really sleep, just dozed sporadically before waking early and getting up, careful to keep her noise to a minimum. She looked over and saw Colburn was still asleep, slouched over in the chair. She went in search of a bathroom and then walked the hospital corridors for a while before heading back. Colburn was still asleep, so she found her chair, which was still vacant, and sat.

  Surgical prep for C would begin soon, she guessed; she had to take a deep breath at the thought of losing her godfathers. She loved them both. What would she do if she lost them? She was going to work with them, going to quit her job at the bank and finally take them up on their offer. She wanted as much time as she could get with the people who meant the world to her. And who was she kidding? The thought of doing what she loved every day was great. It held an exciting and extra appeal to her.

  And what to do with Will? She loved him as much as she did her godfathers, maybe more, even. What to do about him? Was it better to take what she could and go for broke, as she’d decided to do with the godfathers, or should she let him go completely?

  Where the godfathers were concerned, she couldn’t go back. They had been with her as long as her parents had. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, walk away from them. But could she walk away from Will?

  Her cell phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. It was Will.

  “Hey,” she said quietly, standing up and walking out into the hallway.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “What time is it there?”

  “It’s about nine in the evening,” he said, sitting back on the bed in his hotel room. “You sound tired.”

  “I am. Last night Uncle C had a heart attack caused by a partially blocked artery. I’m at the hospital with Colburn. He is scheduled for surgery later on this morning.”

  “I’m sorry, Katrina. What did the doctor tell you?”

  “He told us that C would be fine in the long term, but it would take a while for him to recover.”

  “How is Colburn?”

  “He’s okay. He’s asleep now in the waiting room. The sleeping arrangements here leave something to be desired, though,” she added, her attempt at levity.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. Just worried. You know me.”

  She slid her back down the wall until she was seated on the floor, her legs pulled up to her chest, her knees next to her face. She wrapped an arm around them and lay her head down.

  “Hey, you can’t know about all the possible things that can happen in life, Steady.”

  She smiled at the use of his nickname for her. “How are you? How is work?” she asked.

  “Work is work. Long days, major meeting on Wednesday. Should be easier around here after that. I miss you,” he said.

  “I miss you, too. Didn’t think I would this much.”

  “I’m going to take that in the positive way, that you love me more than you’d realized.”

  She was silent for a while. “I do love you, you’re right, but this whole Uncle C thing has me more than a little spooked,” she said, pausing and taking a deep breath. “Remember me telling you that I didn’t think I could handle it if something happened to us?”

  “Yes,” he said, sitting back against the headboard of his bed, his feet stretched out before him. His stomach started to churn at the turn in the conversation.

  “Well, I’ve been giving that more thought, and maybe we should slow down, you know, make sur
e this is what we want.”

  “This is what we want. I want. Slow down, K, don’t panic. We’re doing just fine. I’m okay with where we are.”

  “I don’t know that I am,” she said, starting to cry, letting go of the pent-up fears caused by C being here. “Coming here again brought back so many memories for me. It’s where my parents were taken following the accident, where they died,” she said, her voice trailing off a little as she cried again. “I don’t think I can handle something more with you. I’m going to quit my job, I’m sure I am, and take the godfathers up on their offer.”

  “What offer?”

  She’d forgotten she hadn’t told him about that. “Remember when you found me crying in your backyard?”

  “Yes.”

  “I talked to the godfathers about starting my own business and they told me that they’d planned to leave Abernathy and Co. to me. I could work for them anytime I wanted, give up working at the bank.”

  Trying not to let the hurt from her keeping something so big from him creep into his voice, he paused for a few seconds. “So are you going to work for them?”

  “Yes, especially in light of what has happened to C. He and Colburn need me, and you know how much I love gardening. We could all be happy. I could take care of them both and learn the business, you know, help them.”

  “What about your life, Katrina? Would that be enough for you?”

  “Sure it would. I could take care of them, help them run the business. It would be enough.”

  “How about you think it over for a while. Give yourself time. Give them time. Don’t make any decisions until things settle down. We can talk over your options when I get back.”

  It was quiet on the telephone for a while. “Katrina, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you want to work with your godfathers I can certainly understand, but we can still work. It’s not an all or nothing deal.” Silence greeted that comment. “Katrina, are you still there?”

  “Yes, but I better go check on Colburn. People are starting to move around here. I bet they’ve started prepping C for surgery. I’d better go.”

  “Will you call me later? Don’t worry about waking me. I want to hear about C, okay?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “I love you, Katrina.”

  “I know. I love you, too. Get some sleep and don’t worry about me,” she said, disconnecting.

  ‘Don’t worry about me’, he thought. Sure, he’d worry; she sounded so sad. He missed her. He wished he could be there with her; maybe he could, he thought, pulling out his laptop. He had that one major meeting on Wednesday. No way he could leave before, not if he wanted to keep his job. But he wanted to be there for her. She scared him. What if he wasn’t able to convince her that life with him would work? He could understand her desire to leave her job and work with her godfathers; it was a perfect place for her. He’d also hoped she wouldn’t use it as a way to escape life, by shutting herself off from the world—and him.

  ***

  Dr. Gaston came to see them after the surgery. He looked tired. They stood and walked over to meet him.

  “How did it go?” Colburn asked.

  “Great. As smooth as we could have expected. He should make a full recovery.”

  Katrina felt the relief in Colburn’s frame and she put her arm around his waist.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “How soon will he be able to resume his old life?” Colburn asked. “He was a very active man. We run a local gardening store here.”

  “I know Abernathy and Co. I love that place. My wife spends way too much money there,” Dr. Gaston said with a smile. “It will take some time for him to get back to where he once was. He will have to give up smoking and change his diet,” he said.

  “Sure thing,” Colburn answered, extending his hand to shake the doctor’s. “Thank you,” he said.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, taking Colburn’s hand.

  “I’ve got to look in on some other patients, but if I can, I’ll try and stop by his room before I leave,” he said, looking at Katrina.

  “Sure, thank you.”

  Dr. Gaston turned and walked out of the room. “That’s great news!” Katrina said.

  “It is,” Colburn said, taking in a huge breath of air.

  “Are you hungry? We could get something to eat.”

  “I’m not sure I should leave. You never know, they may need to talk to me about something else, or Charles may wake up early. You know he has a mind of his own.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll go and grab us something.”

  “Sure. Thanks, Katrina.”

  It took her about ten minutes to locate the cafeteria. She purchased two cups of coffee and a couple of sandwiches. Colburn was where she’d left him. She took the seat next to him and handed him a coffee cup and a sandwich.

  She took a sip, letting go of some of her worry for a few minutes. She smiled at Colburn, who smiled back and added his standard wink. They were more hopeful than they’d been since they’d arrived.

  April

  Charles stayed in the hospital less than a week. Things had progressed better than they’d expected, and he was discharged Thursday morning. Katrina had met Colburn at the hospital early that morning while C signed papers. She followed them home and helped them get settled.

  She hadn’t been in to work at all this week other than to stop by and talk with her manager. She’d given her notice, and that had felt wonderful, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Those who had loved her—Amber, Lola, the godfathers—had always encouraged her to leave, to work on something that made her feel whole.

  When she hadn’t been at the hospital, she spent the time at Abernathy & Co. filling in for the godfathers. Although Colburn was back to work, he was visiting C three to four times a day. She was managing the center sooner than she’d expected, and she loved it. Why had she waited this long to do something she so clearly prized? Why hadn’t she? Oh, that fear thing again.

  She was headed home now for another life-changing meeting. She’d scheduled an appointment with Ms. Morgan, a real estate saleswoman who had come highly recommended. Katrina turned on to her street, unconsciously checking Will’s home. She felt awful about him, but it was for the best. No need to drag a goodbye out. She hadn’t spoken to him since Monday morning, coward that she was. He had another week in Singapore, so she had time to come up with something other than the “I love you but your love scares the pants off of me” excuse. Katrina pulled into her drive. Ms. Morgan was here early, and Katrina walked over to meet her.

  “Hello, Katrina. Nice to put a face to a voice,” she said, extending her hand.

  “Yes, thank you for responding so quickly,” Katrina said, shaking her hand and leading her inside.

  “You have a lovely home, and this is a highly sought-after neighborhood. Being contest winners three years in a row makes for low taxes,” she said, looking around in the way that only real estate people did, sizing up and calculating.

  “Feel free to explore,” Katrina said.

  She was now walking around Katrina’s home, making notes and cataloging the amenities. “I don’t have to tell you that you should have no problems selling this home. Are you sure this is what you want to do? You were one of the first to purchase in the new section of the neighborhood, and since then the property value has increased tremendously.”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she answered, following Mrs. Morgan into the kitchen.

  She was pleased with herself for finally taking control of her life, although it warred with the feelings of guilt at not having discussed the godfathers’ offer or the decision to sell her home with Will. Not talking to him about it was wrong, she internally argued. True that, she thought, but it was her life and finally she was taking the reins and making changes that should have been made ages ago.

  “You have a beautiful garden out back,” Ms. Morgan said, interrupting Katrina’s internal debate. “It’s
fantastic. I hope you’re ready to move, because this home will not be on the market for long.”

  “I’m ready,” she said. She sure hoped she was.

  ***

  Finally, he was home. He’d managed to leave Singapore this morning. He’d changed his flight to leave Thursday, thirty hours ago, putting him home Thursday evening, the day after his meeting. He was exhausted; he had worked hard to tie up loose ends to get back to her. He worried most of the ride back because he hadn’t heard from her, and he decided he was done with extended business trips.

  He was angry and disappointed in Katrina. Beyond their conversation on Monday, he hadn’t spoken to her. He knew she was preoccupied, he could understand that, but even so, she could have called at least once. Fuck, she could have just answered his calls. “Busy, C’s okay,” she responded once to the many text messages he’d sent.

  He was angry and afraid as he pulled into his neighborhood. He turned the corner and drove toward his home, taking a moment to look over at Katrina’s home, taking in the new sign in her yard, a for-sale sign. It was a sucker punch, and he had to catch his breath. He pulled into his drive, parked, and hopped out of the jeep, long angry strides leading him to her door.

  He knocked hard and stood staring at her for a second when the door opened, just taking in the woman he’d grown to love. She was surprised to see him, her eyes wide. He saw love and longing in them, and tried to match those feelings with her selling her home and not returning his calls.

  “You’re back early,” she said quietly.

  “It appears so,” he said, brushing past her as he walked inside.

  He stopped just inside her door and turned to face her, his hands in his pockets, staring at her heatedly.