For You, Forever

by Sophie Love

  Roy took a deep breath, his chest rattling as he did. He stroked Chantelle’s hair tenderly, then tipped her chin up with his wizened finger.

  “I have an illness,” Roy said. “You might have heard the word before. It’s called cancer.”

  Emily choked out a sob. Daniel drew her closer into him, his arms tightening around her protectively.

  “Are you going to die?” Chantelle asked. She seemed to be holding her own, but Emily could see the tremble in her bottom lip.

  “Yes, darling,” Roy said, his voice drenched in sorrow. “I’m afraid so.”

  “When?” Chantelle asked. Her eyes were huge and pleading.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Before Christmas?” she demanded. Her voice was pitching higher as emotion crept into it.

  “I don’t think so,” Roy replied.

  “Before my next birthday?”

  Emily could take it no more. She turned and buried her head in Daniel’s shoulder as sobs racked through her body. Through the sound of her own tears she heard her father’s voice.

  “Yes, Chantelle. I’ll be dead before your next birthday.”

  Then the next sound pierced Emily through the heart. It was the sound of her daughter’s heart breaking at the news her favorite person wouldn’t be there to celebrate with her when she turned nine. That he wouldn’t hold a sign up for her over a video message. That he wouldn’t give her honey cake in a Greek taverna. That all those millions of things they did together would abruptly stop before her next milestone was reached.

  Chantelle’s wail of grief echoed through the corridors of the hospital and there was nothing Emily could do to take her pain away. All she could do was hold on. Be close. Be there. All she could do was cry alongside her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Everyone sat in silence in Vladi’s truck as he drove them through the pitch-black streets. Roy had been admitted for an overnight stay at the hospital and so the family had no choice but to return to his home without him.

  Once they reached the cottage, Vladi’s truck idling in the driveway as they climbed out, Emily turned back to him.

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done,” she said. “Not just with the emergency but for the whole day on the yacht. It was really magical.” She reached in through the window and patted his hand. “I’m so relieved my dad has a friend like you.”

  Vladi nodded, struggling to hold back his emotion. “Roy is a good man.”

  Emily smiled sadly. Then she rummaged in her purse for a business card and handed it to him. “This is our number,” she said. “Once we’re back home, will you call us if anything…” She struggled to get the words out. “...If anything else happens to him?”

  Vladi looked at the small slip of card. “I will keep a good eye on him, Emily. Don’t you worry. I will check on him every day.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “That is a promise.”

  “Thank you,” Emily said, meaningfully. It eased her worries somewhat to know her father would not be alone when they left here, that he had people to look out for him. And after everything they’d been through today, she trusted Vladi fully with that very important task.

  Sensing he wasn’t one for overblown goodbyes, Emily decided to leave it there.

  Daniel emerged from the backseat with Chantelle in his arms, dangling like a dead weight. She’d wailed herself into exhaustion and had fallen asleep before they left the hospital. Emily hadn’t been sure that it was a good idea to move her from the hospital while sleeping, fearing the disorientation on waking up would upset her further. But she’d been impossible to wake.

  They waved goodbye to Vladi and watched as his truck disappeared into the inky night. With a heavy sigh, Daniel turned and headed along the path, walking slowly. Emily followed, feeling weariness seep into every one of her bones.

  “I had no idea it had gotten so bad,” she said to Daniel.

  He looked at her with a strained expression. “I know. I feel terrible. He kept saying he was all right. Were we fools for believing him?”

  Emily thought of the man her father had been in her youth—a man who had let her down, who had lied and kept secrets.

  “No,” she said, finally. “We weren’t fools. It’s what he does.”

  She didn’t want to think bad thoughts about Roy, especially not now, while he was lying alone in a hospital bed. She pushed the memories away.

  They entered the cottage. It was completely dark and devoid of life. Without her father inside, it was like the spirit of the place was completely gone. Now it wasn’t a charming house in a beautiful town, but simply a series of stone bricks arranged in a square. It was Roy who gave the home a heart.

  “Can we just go straight to bed?” Emily asked Daniel.

  They’d not had dinner but their lunch had been enormous and Emily didn’t much feel like eating anything else. She knew Doctor Arkwright would be disappointed if she found out Emily had skipped a meal—keeping her blood sugar levels stable was very important, especially since she’d had blood pressure issues at the beginning of her pregnancy—but her fatigue was too great to fight. The emotion of the day was like a burden weighing on her and all she wanted now was to give in to her exhaustion.

  “Of course,” Daniel said.

  They climbed the stairs together and went into the room they’d been sharing. It was dark except for a ray of moonlight streaming in through the open curtains. Emily drew them, plunging them into complete blackness.

  She reached forward, searching for the bed, and found it. She climbed in beside Chantelle. The girl was snoring. She hadn’t moved a muscle, so deep was the sleep that had consumed her. Emily slung an arm around her, drawing comfort from the girl. She didn’t even notice herself drifting off. The second her head hit the pillow, sleep took her.

  *

  Emily was awoken the next morning by the sound of an unfamiliar telephone ringing. Disoriented, it took her several moments to realize where she was. Then she remembered her father was not here, that he was in the hospital, and that answering the ringing telephone was now her responsibility.

  She hurried downstairs and began searching for the phone. She hadn’t even known her father had a landline in his home. He probably didn’t know himself.

  She followed the noises and found a dusty, beige plastic phone down the back of an armchair. She plucked it out and answered the call. It was the hospital.

  “Is he okay?” Emily asked, her heart flying into her mouth.

  “Yes, he is ready to come home.”

  Emily felt a wave of relief rush over her. “Oh thank God,” she said breathlessly. “We’ll come and pick him up right away.”

  She ended the call and went upstairs as fast as her bulging stomach would allow her. Daniel and Chantelle were sprawled out on the bed, sheets and pillows kicked up around them suggesting a fitful night’s sleep.

  “Guys, wake up,” Emily said loudly. “We can go and get Papa Roy from the hospital. He’s feeling better.”

  Chantelle shot up to a sitting position. Daniel stirred, a little more slow to come back to consciousness. But Chantelle turned and shook his shoulders to hurry him along.

  “Daddy, come on,” she said. “We have to go get Papa Roy!”

  Daniel finally sprung into action. As he dressed and helped Chantelle into her outfit, Emily called for a taxi. She didn’t want to keep relying on Vladi. It didn’t seem fair. He was elderly, too, and Emily didn’t want to compound his stress.

  The taxi arrived ten minutes later. It was bright yellow, reminding Emily immediately of New York City. They hurried inside.

  “Where are you going?” the driver asked.

  “Hospital,” Emily told him.

  He nodded respectfully, and asked no further questions.

  The drive didn’t take long, and it was only then that Emily realized just how short the distance she’d traveled in the ambulance had really been. It had felt like an eternity, but in reality it couldn’t have taken much longer than f
ifteen minutes.

  They pulled up outside the hospital and the taxi waited for them outside.

  They hurried in, greeting the staff at the reception desk.

  “We’re here for my Papa Roy,” Chantelle told them, acting very much like the organizer she was. She seemed very grown up all of a sudden.

  “Roy Mitchell,” Emily added.

  “Of course,” the receptionist said. “He’s waiting for you.”

  A doctor came along to collect them, and led them through the corridors to the ward where they’d left Roy last night. He was sitting in a wheelchair beside his bed, chatting jovially with an orderly. There was a tube in his nose and an oxygen pack sat next to him.

  “There they are.” Roy beamed as his family approached.

  He was using his carefree voice, trying to put them all at ease. But the truth was out now and he wasn’t kidding anyone.

  Chantelle hurried to Roy and climbed onto his lap, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “Careful,” Daniel warned her. She did have a tendency to squeeze quite hard.

  The orderly stood. “I will push him to the car. The wheelchair stays with us though, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course,” Emily said. “He doesn’t need it?”

  The doctor shook her head. “No, he will be okay after a bit of rest to move around on his own. We just want him to be safe and healthy as we escort him from the hospital.”

  Chantelle stayed on Roy’s lap as the orderly wheeled them through the corridors. Roy waved to the doctors and nurses as he went. He was always so friendly it didn’t surprise Emily that he’d made friends while being here.

  They reached the taxi and Daniel helped Roy to his feet, then into the back of the taxi. He handed the oxygen canister in after him.

  Chantelle wanted to sit next to Roy, of course, so she went around to the other side and got into the middle seat. Daniel took the one beside her so that Emily could have the comfort of traveling in the front passenger seat.

  “Did you have any breakfast yet?” Chantelle asked Roy.

  “No, and I’m ravenous,” he told her.

  Chantelle giggled. “We’ll have to stop to get things for breakfast,” she told the taxi driver.

  He looked over to Emily for confirmation. She just laughed and shrugged. “Yeah, okay. If you know of a market on the way that would be great.”

  He seemed happy to oblige and drove the family to a cute market in the back streets of the town. The sun had risen now, drenching everything in warmth and light.

  “We won’t be long, Papa Roy,” Chantelle said.

  Daniel decided to stay in the taxi with Roy, and so Emily and Chantelle went out to purchase food for breakfast.

  The market was truly beautiful, a busy, bustling place filled with stalls and amazing fresh produce. Emily and Chantelle buzzed around, selecting olives and artichokes, fresh fruit, cheese, and yogurt.

  Chantelle found a stall selling amazing-smelling fresh bread.

  “We’ll take a loaf, thanks,” Emily said to the stall owner.

  Beside it was a stall selling whole watermelons the size of Chantelle’s head.

  “We’ll take one of those, too!” she added.

  Once their arms were laden with fresh produce, they scurried back to the taxi and finished the rest of the drive back to Roy’s cottage. Emily paid the taxi driver and everyone went inside. The house felt completely different this time, now that Roy was back to inject some life and soul into the place.

  Daniel helped him upstairs to his bed as Emily and Chantelle prepared the breakfast, making up a tray of goodies for him.

  “I have an idea,” Chantelle said, suddenly.

  Emily watched her curiously as she disappeared out of the room. She heard her footsteps thudding up the staircase, and then, after a short moment, the sound of them hurrying back down.

  “Ta-da!” Chantelle exclaimed as she skidded into the kitchen.

  Emily frowned when she saw that there was something in Chantelle’s arms. “What is that?” she asked.

  “It’s my clock,” Chantelle said.

  “The one you were building at home?” Emily asked, shocked. “But what’s it doing here? In Greece? Did you take that on the plane?”

  Chantelle looked bemused at Emily’s shocked tone. “Yes. I put it in one of my toy bags.”

  “But why?” Emily asked, laughing now. “What kind of eight-year-old carries a big heavy clock halfway across the world?”

  “It’s a present for Papa Roy,” Chantelle said simply. “I was going to give it to him on the last day but I figure he’ll want it now.”

  “Sure,” Emily said, still laughing.

  Chantelle placed the clock on one side of the tray.

  “Do you think he’ll like it?” she asked, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

  “It’s beautiful,” Emily told her. “He’ll love it.”

  They went upstairs to Roy’s room. He was propped up in bed, the oxygen tube still in place. Daniel was sitting in a chair by the window. He looked tired, more tired than Roy did. This whole ordeal had really hit him hard, Emily thought.

  “What’s this?” Roy said as he saw the tray. “Breakfast for me?”

  Chantelle nodded brightly. She hopped onto the foot of the bed as Emily positioned the tray over Roy’s lap.

  “Wait…” he said, noticing the clock. “This doesn’t look edible.”

  Chantelle giggled. “It’s not!” she exclaimed. “It’s a clock. I made it for you.”

  Roy looked stunned. He picked it up lightly, turning it over in his hands. “You made it?”

  Chantelle nodded. “All by myself.”

  Roy looked up at Emily. Tears were sparkling in his eyes.

  “Chantelle, it’s wonderful,” he uttered, sounding completely overwhelmed. “I don’t understand how you did this all on your own.”

  “I just remembered everything you showed me when we were in England,” she said. “Do you like it?”

  Roy looked up at her, his eyes deep pools of emotion. “I love it, Chantelle. It’s amazing. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Chantelle threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. As she watched on, Emily dabbed tears away from her eyes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  “I think we should make a Thanksgiving meal,” Chantelle announced later that day, while Roy was taking a nap.

  The family was sitting in the garden, soaking up some sunshine and trying to release all the tension the events of the evening had caused.

  “While we’re all together,” Chantelle added, squinting against the sun.

  Since Papa Roy was confined to his bed, there wasn’t much in the way of sightseeing for the family to do. Staying in and cooking a big meal would be a good way to spend their time together.

  “We could go back to that market,” Chantelle said. “Do you think Papa Roy would like that?”

  Emily looked at Daniel. He’d been the one who was reticent to move dates forward. She wondered if he’d be more willing after what had happened. And more willing since it was Chantelle’s suggestion.

  “Sure. I think that’s a great idea, honey,” he said.

  This time, Daniel went to the market with Chantelle. Emily needed to rest. All the stress was starting to make her tired. So she went into Roy’s bedroom and napped in the bed beside him.

  She was roused by the sound of clattering coming from downstairs, the unmistakable noises of her family. Emily was feeling much more energetic after her nap and went downstairs to help out as much as possible in the kitchen.

  She entered to a scene of chaos.

  “How much did you buy?” she exclaimed.

  Daniel looked up from the bags he was emptying. “We might have gotten a little carried away.”

  Chantelle gave Emily a very serious look. “This will be our last Thanksgiving with Papa Roy,” she said maturely. “We want it to be the best ever.”

  Roy’s kitchen was very small, nothing like
the space they were accustomed to in the inn. They all had to dance around each other but the chaos just added to the fun.

  They made potato gratin, green bean casserole, mac and cheese, cornbread, glazed carrots, roasted beets, creamed kale, wild rice stuffed butternut squash, and cinnamon and honey roasted sweet potatoes. Chantelle enjoyed cooking with them.

  Then they placed all the food out in the garden, on the patio table so they could eat overlooking the sea. Daniel went upstairs to help Roy come down.

  When he saw the Thanksgiving dinner, he let out an exclamation of joy.

  “Did you do all this?” he asked.

  “It was Chantelle’s idea,” Emily told him.

  “You helped surprise me with an early birthday,” she said. “So I thought we should surprise you with an early Thanksgiving.”

  Roy looked touched. “This is so wonderful.”

  He walked slowly to the table and sat. Everyone joined him. The ocean sparkled in the distance. And for the rest of the evening, Emily forgot about her worries.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  The next day, however, Emily awoke with a heavy heart. It was departure day, and it had arrived like an unwanted storm cloud, bringing a sense of foreboding with its gloom.

  She looked over at Daniel and Chantelle sleeping in bed. Though she felt blessed for them, she knew half her heart belonged here with her father, that leaving him would feel like tearing it in two. The urge to remain was overwhelming, though she knew she couldn’t heed it.

  Daniel woke then, his eyelids fluttering open. Emily could tell by the look on his face that he was feeling the same as she was.

  “I wish we could take Dad with us,” Emily said to him softly, projecting her voice over Chantelle’s sleeping form.

  “I know,” he replied. “Or that at least we could stay longer. Leaving him like this doesn’t seem right.”