A Mile in My Flip-Flops

by Melody Carlson

“If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask.”

  “Do you have any idea when he’ll wake up?”

  “That’s hard to say.

  “But it’s good for him to rest?”

  “Well, that depends. But, don’t worry, he’s being closely monitored. He’s in good hands here.”

  And that’s what I tell myself after my next five-minute visit with him. Because the truth is, I am beginning to doubt. His unconscious state concerns me. A lot. And I wonder what Dr. Swenson meant when she said “that depends.” Still, I don’t see her around right now, and the nurses look busy. Finally I wander back to the waiting room, which is beginning to feel like my home away from home. Only less cluttered.

  “Miss Hanover?”

  I turn to see a young blond girl peering curiously at me. At first I think it may be one of my students, but she’s not familiar. “Yes?” I say to her. “Are you looking for me?”

  “Are you Miss Hanover?”

  “I am.”

  “Hank Hanover’s daughter?”

  “Yes, I’m Hank Hanover’s daughter. Who are you?”

  “Kirsten.”

  I smile at her. “And you know my dad?”

  She nods now, carefully looking at me… as if taking inventory. “You’re supposed to come with me,” she finally says, turning to head back to the elevator.

  “Come where?” I ask.

  “Downstairs.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my daddy sent me up here to get you is why.”

  “Who is your daddy?”

  “Noah Campbell.”

  “Oh.” I nod as I piece this together. “He sent you up here by yourself?”

  “Im seven years old,” she proudly tells me as she punches the Down button. “I can do lots of things myself.”

  “I see.” I smile as we go inside and she punches the 1 button.

  We are both silent as the elevator goes down. But Im taking her inventory. For seven, she seems small. Not much bigger than my kindergarten kids. But she’s also very pretty in a delicate, blue-eyed blonde sort of way, and as far as I can see, she doesn’t look much like her dad. Wearing a pastel blue T-shirt and pale yellow shorts, she reminds me of cotton candy. And I get the impression that for a little girl, she is more capable than the average.

  “This way,” she tells me, leading me out of the elevator.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as I follow her, watching as her short, slender legs almost march toward the front entrance.

  “Out there,” she points to the double-glass doors, and I can see a turquoise blue pickup.

  “Why didn’t your dad come in too?” I ask as I push open the door. But as we step outside, I can see why he didn’t come in. He appears to be containing Riley in the back of his pickup. Riley is perched with his front paws on the wooden rails, his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth in a goofy-looking grin. He barks when he sees me and begins to run back and forth in the pickup bed.

  “Riley,” I say as I go around to the tailgate, where Noah is standing.

  “I think he misses you,” says Noah as he puts down the tailgate.

  Then, before I can say a thing, Riley lunges out of the pickup, coming straight at me. He plants both front paws onto my midsection, and I topple backward, tripping over the curb and landing not so gracefully in the bark-o-mulch.

  “Riley!” scolds Noah, pulling my dog off me. “You weren’t supposed to kill her.” Then Noah extends his other hand to me, helping me to my feet. “You okay, Gretchen?”

  “Sure,” I say as I brush bark off my back section and then lean over to pet my dog. “Silly thing.”

  “I didn’t know he was going to take you out,” says Noah. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I tell him as I squat down to give Riley the attention he’s demanding. “I just haven’t trained him very well.”

  “I like him,” says Kirsten quietly.

  “And I’ll bet he likes you too,” I say, still down at Riley’s level, which is also her level.

  “We played on the beach. He’s good at fetching.”

  “He is good, isn’t he?” I say. “I think it’s his favorite game.”

  “Can we keep him longer?” she asks with hopeful eyes that are stunningly blue.

  “Wow, you have pretty eyes,” I tell her.

  She just shrugs it off. “Can Riley stay with Daddy and me for the weekend?”

  I stand up now, looking curiously at Noah, and he looks slightly apologetic. “I didn’t promise anything… I just told her all we could do was ask, I mean, offer.”

  “You don’t mind having him?”

  “Not at all.” He digs in his pocket now. “And here are your keys. I locked up the house, and everything looked pretty much like before.”

  “Like a mess, you mean?”

  He smiles. “It’s definitely in need of some TLC.”

  “That’s for sure.” I don’t ask him for his impressions. I don’t think I want to know. I can’t imagine what he must think of me. I don’t even know why I should care.

  Now Kirsten wraps her arms around Riley’s neck, giving him a hug that he doesn’t even try to shake off. I wish I had my camera turned on and ready to go, because this is a real Kodak moment.

  “Can we take him home again, Miss Hanover?” begs Kirsten.

  “Only if you promise me something,” I say seriously to her.

  “What is it?” She gives me a very somber look now.

  “Please don’t call me Miss Hanover,” I tell her. “You see, all year long I’m a teacher at Lincoln Elementary, and all the kids call me Miss Hanover. But school’s out now, and when I hear you say it, I think I’m back in school all over again.”

  “Oh…”

  “Just call me Gretchen, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And I’d love for Riley to spend the weekend with you. It would actually take a load off my mind.”

  “How’s your dad?” asks Noah.

  “About the same.”

  “Still unconscious?”

  I nod, feeling close to tears again.

  “Well, we didn’t want to keep you from him, but Riley needed to see you.”

  “I appreciate it,” I say as I give Riley another good ear rubdown.

  “And I had to send in Kirsten because I wasn’t sure that Riley would stay in the pickup.”

  “That was wise.” I tell him about Riley nearly hanging himself from my car.

  “Yep, I had a feeling.”

  I turn my attention back to my dog. “Now, you’d better be a good boy for Noah and Kirsten,” I tell him. “Mind your manners, and don’t eat any shoes.” I glance at Kirsten. “You don’t have any expensive shoes, do you?”

  She gives me a funny look, then shakes her head no.

  “Good. You should be fine.”

  “We’ll let you get back to your dad then,” says Noah.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll try to come by and see him sometime soon,” he says. “Keep me posted, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Tell Mr. Hanover hello for me,” says Kirsten politely. “I hope he’s feeling better.”

  I want to ask Noah how Kirsten knows my dad but can’t think of a polite way to put it. Besides, I know that Noah is friends with Dad. Why wouldn’t his daughter be friends as well? It’s not like I spend all my free time with my dad. Especially these past eighteen months when I’ve been hiding from pretty much everyone.

  “Thanks again,” I tell both of them. “Riley’s probably having such a great time with you guys that he’ll never want to come back home to me.”

  “I doubt that,” says Noah.

  I wave and go back inside the hospital, which seems stuffier than ever after I just spent a moment outside in the morning sunshine.

  The day passes slowly. About every half hour I go in and spend five minutes with Dad. But I begin to wonder if my being here really makes any difference. My hope is that, one of th
ese visits, he will wake up, open his eyes, and give me one of those great sunny smiles. But all I get in return is a blank, cool silence—like I’m standing at the edge of a frozen lake or very near death.

  It’s late in the afternoon when I go to the chapel again. This time I don’t have any agenda. I don’t even have any words to pray. But I get on my knees and close my eyes, and for no explainable reason I feel certain that God can hear my heart—maybe even better than I can hear it. I no longer want to bargain with him. And I don’t want to give him my answers. I am too tired, too scared for my dad’s future—and my own—and I just want to surrender. I feel like letting go. “Do what you will,” I say out loud for no one but God to hear. “All I can do is trust you…” I don’t know how long I’ve been in the chapel, but my knees are stiff and sore by the time I stand up. But I feel strangely renewed. And even at peace.

  I go back to ICU and into Dad’s room. I just stand there looking at him and thinking how lucky—how blessed—I have been to have such a great dad. Does that mean I’m ready to lose him now? No, not at all. But I know this is out of my control. I take his cool hand in both of mine and gently squeeze it, closing my eyes. “No matter what happens, Dad,” I say quietly, “I will always love you. You are the best.” Then I just stand there for a moment, knowing that my five minutes are nearly up and that visiting time will soon be over too.

  “I’m hungry,” I hear a gravelly voice say.

  I look down to see Dad’s open eyes. “Dad?” I cry with excitement. “You woke up!”

  “Where am I?”

  “Saint Joseph’s Hospital,” I say, reaching for the nurse’s buzzer and pushing it hard.

  “It’s freezing in here.” He reaches for the oxygen tube that’s going into his nose and pulls it off.

  “I think you’re supposed to leave that—”

  “What’s going on here?” asks the nurse as she pushes in front of me.

  “He’s awake,” I tell her.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Hanover,” she says as she reinserts the tube in his nose. “You need to keep this oxygen going.”

  “I’m hungry,” he says again. “And thirsty.”

  She chuckles. “We’ll see what we can do about that, sir.”

  “And I’m cold.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” she says as she checks his monitor.

  “You’re in good hands,” I say, peeking at Dad from behind the nurse and smiling. “They’ve been doing everything possible to help you.”

  He frowns at me now. “Did I have a heart attack?”

  I nod. “You did. The neighbor lady called an ambulance for you.”

  “I want you to stay quiet, Mr. Hanover,” warns the nurse. “I’ll let Dr. Swenson know that you’re conscious now. But take it easy, okay?”

  “No dancing the Watusi?”

  She laughs. “You know how to do the Watusi?”

  “Sure. Want to see?”

  “Not yet. You take it easy.”

  “Is it okay if I stay?” I ask, knowing that my five minutes have expired.

  “Yes. Please do. And he can have a couple of sips of water. Just to wet his throat.”

  So while the nurse pages Dr. Swenson, I give my dad a little water. “Im so glad to see you again,” I say as he sips. “I missed you, Dad.”

  “I’m right here, sweetie.”

  After several minutes Dr. Swenson and the nurse come back into Dads room, and the small space is too crowded for all of us, so I step out and wait by the nurses’ station as they examine him and check the machines and whatnot. I want to call Holly and tell her the good news, but cell phone use is not allowed in the ICU. Apparently it can interfere with the monitors. Finally, after about forty minutes, they’re finished with Dad.

  “He’s pretty worn out,” says Dr. Swenson, “but you can go in for a quick visit if you want. Then he’ll need a good night’s rest.”

  “How does he seem?”

  “Pretty good. We removed the cooling pads. But he’ll still be on oxygen and the monitor … probably until he goes for surgery. But we may do that as soon as tomorrow morning.”

  “Why so soon?”

  “Based on your dad’s condition, sooner is better. And he’s probably as stabilized as he’s going to be. But we’d like to have his consent.”

  “Did you ask him?”

  “I mentioned it, but he didn’t seem ready to discuss it just yet. Maybe you can bring it up with him too. I’m sure he’s still somewhat in shock.”

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s a lot to take in.”

  “Well, don’t visit with him too long. He may think he feels strong, but his heart isn’t.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her as I turn to go back in. Dad’s eyes are closed now, and for a moment I think that maybe he’s unconscious again. But then he opens them and barely smiles.

  “Dr. Swenson said I could visit with you briefly.” I stand by his bed and take his hand. To my relief it’s almost a normal temperature now.

  “How’re you doing, sweetie?”

  “Mostly I’ve been worried about you, Dad. You’ve really been out of it.”

  “What day is it?”

  “Saturday.”

  “Oh…”

  “You know that the doctors are recommending coronary bypass surgery, don’t you, Dad?”

  He seems to consider this but doesn’t answer.

  “It sounds like it’s a fairly standard procedure now… They say that you’ll be almost as good as new if you have it.”

  Still, he doesn’t respond.

  “I signed the release form…because you were unconscious. I didn’t know what else to do, Dad. It seemed to make sense. I wanted to talk to someone about it, and I thought about calling Betty for some—”

  His eyes flash. “You didn’t, did you?”

  “No.”

  He looks relieved now. “Good. No sense spoiling her vacation.”

  “You don’t plan to call her at all?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh…”

  “The doctor told me about the surgery.”

  “Did she explain how it works?”

  He nods, just barely.

  “And that it’ll really take care of that blockage? It’ll be like having a brand-new set of pipes going to your heart.”

  “My doctor talked about angioplasty … before this.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “I remembered your mentioning that before, but both Dr. Fontaine and Dr. Swenson agree that bypass is the best treatment.” I glance at the clock, knowing that the nurse could come in here at any moment. “Why don’t you just sleep on it tonight, Dad.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I am going to do. We can make a decision tomorrow,” he says, obviously weary and a little overwhelmed.

  “By the way, Noah and Kirsten send their regards.”

  His eyes seem to brighten at this. “They were here?”

  “They’re keeping Riley for me.”

  “You haven’t been home?”

  “No … I couldn’t leave you, Dad.”

  “Thanks. But go home tonight.”

  “I’ll think about it… Oh, and Holly sends her love too.” I lean down to kiss his cheek. “We’ve all been praying for you.”

  “I can tell.”

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too, Gretchen Girl.”

  I smile. “Rest well.”

  “You too.” Then he closes his eyes and instantly falls asleep. I squeeze his hand once more, then quietly slip out. I’m not sure I’m going home tonight. I do realize that I’m hungry, but the idea of eating in the hospital cafeteria is not appetizing. I go to the waiting area and call Holly to tell her the good news about Dad and that they may even do the surgery tomorrow.

  “Oh, I’m so thankful,” she says. “Justin and I almost brought your car over there this afternoon, but I didn’t know if you’d want it stuck in the parking lot all night. So we parked it at the apartment. I can come over and give you a ride home if you want.”
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  “I’m not sure I want to leave him yet.”

  “But you must be exhausted, Gretchen. And if you’re dad’s having surgery tomorrow, maybe you need a good night’s rest.”

  “Maybe. Right now I’m starving.”

  “I haven’t had dinner yet either. Justin is having guys’ night out. Why don’t I come and take you to dinner.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “I’ll pick you up at the main entrance in about ten minutes, okay?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  After a quiet but rejuvenating dinner at a bistro downtown, Holly drives me to Dad’s condo, where I refill the cats’ food and water containers. They don’t seem any worse for wear, and I promise them that their papa will be home in about a week. Then she drops me off at my apartment. “Sorry. I’m not very good company,” I say as I reach for the door handle. “But I do appreciate your help tonight.”

  “I was glad to be here for you. And please give yourself a break, Gretchen. You’ve been through a lot these past couple of days. Hopefully, you’ll get a good rest tonight.”

  “Yes … and back to the hospital first thing in the morning.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  I nod and get out of the car, realizing that I haven’t told Noah about Dad yet. I promised to keep him posted too. As I trudge up the stairs, I dig his card out of my bag and slowly punch in his number. While the phone rings, I stand in front of my door, fish out the apartment key, and let myself in. No matter how messy and tiny my apartment is, it feels really nice to be home. Finally, as I drop my purse and lean against the wall, Noah answers his phone, and I tell him about Dad waking up.

  “That’s great!”

  “And they might even do the surgery tomorrow.”

  “On a Sunday?”

  “I guess Sunday is just another day in the hospital.”

  “Well, it does seem like the sooner they can fix him up, the better.”

  “I know I’ll be relieved… I’m home now but plan to go back first thing in the morning.”

  “Well don’t worry about Riley. I think he and Kirsten have fallen in love.”

  “I’ll try not to get too jealous.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I can tell that Riley’s heart belongs to you. Kirsten is just a fleeting fancy.”

  “Fickle dog.”

  He chuckles. “Well anyway, take care of yourself tonight,” he says. “And give Hank my best, okay? Tell him that Kirsten and I will be praying for him to come through with flying colors.”