These Days Series: After Tuesday | Forgotten Yesterday | Deciding Tomorrow

by Renee Ericson

  Trying to rest, I close my eyes, but my mind is spinning. The darkness behind my lids brings on visions of the moment I found my father and the time spent at the hospital. Realizing sleep won’t happen; I open my eyes and stare at the wall for a long time.

  My phone rings. Part of me doesn’t want to answer it, but then my brain registers that it might be the hospital. I need to get up and check who is calling. It’s not the hospital. It’s Lexi. School must be out. Have I really been staring at the wall that long?

  “Hey, I was just checking on you,” she says gently and then clears her throat. “Happy birthday.”

  “Thanks,” I croak, crawling back under the covers.

  “So, how are you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Any news?” she probes hesitantly.

  “No. They sent us home. He’s not allowed any visitors right now. They’re watching him, and they said they’d call if anything changes.”

  “So, are you at home?”

  “Yeah, for now.”

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  “No. I’m good. I’m trying to get some sleep. It’s been a long couple of days.”

  “Are you sure? I can come over and just keep you company, even if you’re sleeping.”

  “Yeah.” I waver for a moment. I know she wants to help, and I appreciate it. Then, I decide I just feel like being alone right now. “I’m sure.”

  “Well, call me if you change your mind.”

  “All right. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  After I hung up the phone, I must have drifted off for a bit because I’m startled when I feel Dragon jumping off of the bed. I watch as he makes his way into the hall.

  A few moments later, Brent enters my room, approaching me as I lie on the bed. He crouches down, so his face is level with mine. I notice he’s wearing his soccer gear. He must have come over right after practice.

  “Happy birthday,” he offers softly into the space between us. Then, he leans over and kisses me on the forehead. “Your uncle let me in. I tried to call you to let you know I was on my way, but there was no answer. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No,” I say, my voice cracking from sleep, “not at all.”

  “How are you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His fingers tease my hairline from my forehead to my ear, easing some of the tension. He stands up, kicks off his shoes, and joins me in bed, keeping himself on top of the covers behind me. His arm drapes over my body, allowing me to feel his closeness without smothering me.

  “Anything new?” he asks.

  “No. I was going to call and check with the nurse in a bit.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know what to say. It’s out of our hands.”

  “All right.”

  Lying there together in silence for a long time, he hypnotically strokes my hair, lulling me back to a place of peace.

  “I brought some food. Are you hungry?” he asks.

  I can tell he’s trying to take care of me. I can’t imagine what I look like to him right now.

  “I don’t know.”

  He sits up and gets off the bed. Holding his hand out, he says, “C’mon. Why don’t you take a shower and then we can eat?”

  I stare at his hand and then at his face. I don’t want to move.

  “You’ll feel better. Trust me,” he encourages.

  Slowly, I pull off the covers and begin to sit up. I rub my hands over my face and then through my hair. I can feel how disgusting and greasy it is. He’s right. I do need a shower. Resigned, I stand up and walk toward the bathroom with Brent following close behind me.

  “I’ll just wait in the living room,” he tells me.

  I shut the door and make my way over to the tub, turning on the shower. I close the curtain and take a seat on the toilet while the moist hot air steams up the room. Unable to bring myself to get into the shower, I sit, fully clothed, staring at the toilet paper roll.

  Then, something happens. The weight of it all begins to form cracks within me, and despair comes crashing down. I find myself bent over at the waist, imagining horrible things that I’ve been repressing all day. The guilt, the hurt, the anguish, and the fear of losing my father floods every inch of my body. In this private space, I lose myself. I failed him. He failed me. We’re both failures. We might never get a chance to move forward ever again.

  The thought of him yesterday morning, when the withdrawal began to take over, laces me with fear for his life. I can feel myself losing hope. I’m losing it to someplace dark, and I can feel the darkness taking me down with it. Suddenly, I feel very alone as I’m sucked into a black abyss of despair.

  Strong arms embrace me as I continue to sob uncontrollably on the toilet. Through the floodgates, I feel tight squeezes bringing me back. Gentle kisses on my head pull me up from the dark place.

  “Shhh,” Brent’s soothing voice says. “I’m here. You’re going to be fine. Everything will be okay.”

  He says it over and over until my tears finally ease up and my breathing becomes more even. Holding onto my shoulder, Brent leans over to the tub to turn off the shower. I see him put the plug in the drain. After he starts the faucet to fill the tub, he turns his body back to face me.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he says again, touching the side of my face. “I’m going to help you?” He says it like a question.

  I try to nod my head a little to let him know I heard him.

  His lips touch my forehead as his fingertips find the hem of my shirt at my waist. Stepping back just a bit, he pulls my shirt over my head. He keeps his eyes on mine as he drops down to his knees. He pulls off my socks, and then his hands trace up my thighs to the button at my waist. He undoes my pants and drags them down off of my legs.

  Breaking the connection, he turns off the water after the tub is filled. He helps me to my feet and then pulls the towel off the rack behind him. Bringing my body close to his, he drapes the towel across my back, wrapping me up. With his eyes locked on mine, his fingers undo my bra and then he helps me take off my panties.

  Now naked under the towel, he assists me to the tub. As I step into the water, he turns his head. I ease out of the towel and sit in a tight ball, wrapping my arms around my legs.

  “Thanks.” A warm tear escapes when the words cross my lips.

  “I’ll be right back.” He places the towel on the toilet and goes out the door.

  I hear some sounds from the kitchen, and a few moments later, he returns with a large cup in hand. After placing it on the edge of the tub, he gets down on his knees, sitting back on his heels, as he puts the towel in his lap. Then, he pulls his shirt over his head. Usually, the sight of him like this would make my breath catch, but this isn’t that moment, not at all.

  “Tilt your head back,” he requests quietly.

  I close my eyes, breathe through my nose, and let my head fall back. Water splashes a little behind me, and then I feel the warm liquid being poured over my hair. He scoops up more water and pours it over my head again and again. With my eyes still closed, I feel him reach across the tub. I hear a bottle flip open and close. I listen as he rubs his hands together for a few seconds, and then I smell the shampoo as I feel him massaging it into my hair. A sense of calm settles into my bones as I relax from his touch.

  “Thank you,” I tell him behind closed lids.

  “Anytime. Anything.”

  ***

  After I’m fully bathed, I get out and dress in new clothes. He was right. I do feel better.

  We take a seat across from each other at the kitchen table. He hands me a sub sandwich and places one in front of himself.

  “Are your parents okay with you spending so much time over here?” I ask. “With me?”

  “They’re fine. They understand,” he says through a mouthful of food. He finishes the bite. “They also said you could stay with us if you needed to. I don’t know if Lexi told you, but she said her p
arents said you could stay with them as well.”

  “Yeah, she mentioned it yesterday. I’m spending so much time at the hospital right now though.”

  “Do they have any idea how long he could be like this?”

  “It could end now or days from now. Or…” My lip quivers. “Or it could take him.”

  “All right.” His hand grabs mine, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Let’s not think like that right now. Let’s just hope for the best. There’s no reason to get ahead of ourselves.”

  “Right,” I mutter with a brave face.

  Keeping one hand on mine, he drops his sub and reaches into his bag on the floor. When his hand comes back up, he places a small, flat square box between us on the table. It’s wrapped in silver paper with a red ribbon.

  “What’s this?” I ask, bringing my eyes up to gauge his reaction.

  “Just open it,” he says. Removing my hand from his, he pushes the box closer to me.

  I pick it up and begin to unwrap it slowly, feeling his eyes on me. After I peel off the wrapping paper, I lift open the white box to find a necklace with a pendant.

  “What’s this for?” I ask.

  “It’s still your birthday.”

  Right. I knew that.

  “Do you like it?”

  My fingers delicately graze the silver pendant. I’ve never seen anything like it. Two paddles, like those used for a canoe, are bent and twisted together, creating the shape of a heart. It says so much without saying anything.

  “It’s perfect,” I tell him.

  “It is? I wasn’t sure. I thought you might think it was…I don’t know.”

  “It’s perfect.” I raise my eyes to look directly at him. “Thank you.”

  “Here, let me help you put it on.”

  He stands up as I take the necklace out of the box and hand it to him. As he hooks the clasp behind my neck, I feel his breath near my ear.

  “I want you to know that I meant it when I said I could handle anything that had to do with you. I’m not leaving you this time. So, whatever you’re feeling, don’t be afraid to tell me. If you’re scared, angry, upset, or even just hate the world, tell me. Even if you don’t tell me because you’re not ready to, I still won’t leave you, but I want you to trust me. I know you’re used to doing everything by yourself, but you don’t have to.”

  I turn to face him, so we’re only a whisper apart.

  “I know, and I do trust you. I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone ever.” I close my eyes, leaning my head to his. “Brent, what am I gonna do if he doesn’t make it?”

  “Survive, like you always do, and let me help you.”

  Twenty-Eight

  When I hear a phone ringing, I find myself waking up in Brent’s arms on the couch. It’s dark, and I’m not sure of the hour. We must have fallen asleep after the news because the TV is displaying an infomercial. I go to reach for my phone, but then I realize it’s not mine that’s ringing.

  “Brent.” I turn within his arms. “Wake up. Phone.”

  “Huh? Oh shit.” He bolts up, grabbing his phone from the end table. “It’s my dad.”

  “Hi, Dad,” he answers. “Sorry. We fell asleep. Yeah, I know. I should have called. Nope, there’s nothing new. I know, but I don’t want her to be alone. Okay.”

  He covers the mouthpiece, looking at me. “Hey, where’s your uncle?”

  “Next door. Why?”

  “I need to get home. My dad says you can stay at our place tonight if you want.”

  “I don’t know.” I rub my nose.

  “You shouldn’t be by yourself.”

  “I’m not. Jas is right next door. We’re planning to head back to the hospital in the morning.”

  “Are you sure?” He raises his brows.

  I can tell he doesn’t like the idea of me being alone, even though Jas is right next door. We are only separated by a wall. I consider staying with Lexi tomorrow.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m fine. Get home. I don’t want you to be in trouble.”

  “All right.”

  “Dad,” Brent says into the phone. “I’ll be home soon.”

  We stand up, and Brent starts to gather his things. I notice the hour. It’s after midnight on a school night. It’s no wonder his parents were calling.

  “I’ll call you in the morning,” Brent murmurs as we hold each other by the door.

  There’s a knock at the back door before it opens. I should be surprised, but I’m not. My life isn’t keeping proper hours right now.

  “Hey, Ruby?” Cody calls. He sees Brent and me in each other’s arms. “Oh shit, sorry. My dad said to come over and get you. The hospital called.”

  I suck in my breath.

  “He’s awake. He’s stable, and he’s talking.”

  “Really?” I blubber.

  Brent’s hands rub my back as I wipe the tears from my eyes.

  “Really. We’re heading down to see him. C’mon.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll take her,” Brent offers.

  “You need to get home,” I remind him.

  “I’ll call my dad and let him know. I told you. They understand.”

  “Well, let’s go. Hurry up,” Cody says somewhat rushed before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

  ***

  When we arrive at the hospital, it’s way past visiting hours, but apparently, the staff makes exceptions in cases like this. We’re told my dad can have one visitor at a time, and only family is allowed.

  Jas goes in first. About twenty minutes later, when he comes back out, I can see it in his eyes. He has hope, which, in return, gives me hope.

  “He wants to see you,” Jas tells me. “He’s waiting.”

  “All right.” I’m nervous, but I don’t know why.

  “I’ll be here,” Brent assures me, squeezing my hand before letting it go.

  I walk alone down the hall. The nurse stands at a computer, just outside my father’s room. Hesitating beside her for a moment, I’m unsure if I want to go in.

  “He’s doing much better. He’s talking and coherent,” the nurse states. “We plan to move him as soon as a room becomes available, likely in a few hours.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you,” I say as I step into his room.

  With assistance from the bed, he’s sitting up. There are still tubes attached to him, but it’s nothing too scary. His face is cleaned up as well. He doesn’t look brand new. He doesn’t appear the best he ever has, but he looks better. I’m amazed and relieved by what I see.

  “Ruby…” he says.

  It comes out so quietly that I’m not sure if I heard him right. I approach, getting closer to hear him better.

  Then, he says it again, “Ruby…”

  I turn my head and look back through the glass door toward the nurse’s desk. I thought the nurse said he’s coherent. I get the feeling he’s only calling me that because everyone else does.

  “Ruby…”

  I look back to him.

  “Dad, I’m here.” I take his hand in mine. It’s heavy, but when I feel his fingers squeeze, I know he’s with me.

  “I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m so happy that you’re okay.”

  “I really messed up, didn’t I?” There are tears in his eyes.

  “Don’t worry about that right now. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

  “No, it isn’t. Jas told me what happened.”

  My glassy eyes mirror his own.

  “What have I done to you?” he asks anguished.

  “Nothing. You’ve done nothing.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” he chokes.

  “We can talk about it later. You just get better. Don’t worry about any of that right now.”

  “No, I need to talk about this now. Ruby—”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “Let me finish, and I’ll tell you. I really messed
up, and I think I need some serious help. I’ve been talking to the nurses, and they’re going to get me in touch with the caseworker about going to rehab. It’ll be like a real rehab where I check in and stay for at least a month. I can’t keep doing this to you.”

  “You aren’t doing anything to me.”

  “Stop. Yes, I am. You’re my daughter, but at some point, you stopped being the daughter I knew. I think that’s because I stopped being the father you knew. I did that to us, and I think we need a fresh start. We can talk about the past. It’s something I need to deal with, and I owe you that. I lost Tuesday a long time ago, and I have to accept that I’ll never get her back.”

  “Yes, you can.” My jaw is shaking. Don’t give up on that! I want to scream.

  “No, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

  “Dad, I’ll always be Tuesday to you.”

  “No, you’ll always be my daughter. I just hope that I can be a better father or, at the very least, a better person.”

  It hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m hurt that he wants to give up on the relationship we once had, but maybe that’s for the best. Maybe the only way to move forward is to let go of the past.

  I can see the sincerity in his eyes. His hope is a promise to himself and to me. Maybe this is an awakening for him. Maybe he’s still delirious, but I don’t think so.

  I heard a similar speech before that left me feeling unsure, but now, I don’t feel that at all. After feeling like I lost everything, there’s nothing left to feel but hope for the future. If I don’t believe that, then how else can we ever move on?

  “I’ve missed you.” I crumble into his arms, holding him tight. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  “Me, too, because I would have missed seeing you.”

  I stay in his room for a little while longer. Eventually, he begins to drift off to sleep. When he’s passed out, I stay, watching him rest. I’ve watched him sleeping so many times before, but those times were laced with fear and disgust. This time is laced with hope and possibilities.

  ***