by J. B. Baker
“Noah, oh my God, Noah…there’s something wrong with James.”
When Glyn repeats this for the second time, my mind finally registers the urgency in his words. I spin around to see my grandfather lying on the porch with Glyn cradling his head in his lap. “We got to call an ambulance,” he says.
I nod. I pick up my cell and immediately dial the emergency number.
“I said no mobile phones here.”
I look down at my grandfather, but there is none of the usual force in his voice. Instinctively, I know that there is something very wrong. The feeling wraps itself around my heart as if crushing it. I give the operator the address in a robotic fashion and return my phone to my jean’s pocket.
“Get in touch with Hunter; he needs to know,” hisses my granddad.
This is worse than I expected. I have never seen the old man act so final about something. It is as if he is making his final preparations to leave this life and move on to the next one and finally return to Bethany’s arms.
CHAPTER 8: ZOEY
“Grandpa, you cannot smoke here and not to mention your health. Come on, you just had some kind of stroke,” says Noah.
“For once I have to agree with my brother,” says Hunter.
“Will you two pricks just shut up. If I want a cigarette then I will damn well have one,” wheezes James Jackson, propping himself up on the bed and lighting up.
I can’t believe the man is smoking in a hospital. I hate the habit because it stinks and it is unhealthy. However, I also know that it is near impossible to teach an old dog new tricks. James Jackson is just the way he is, and that will never change – not now anyway.
“I think that you should listen to your grandsons, Mr. Jackson,” says the doctor, stepping into the room. “That is if you don’t want a very expensive lawsuit to add to your medical bills.”
“Don’t worry about any of that. He will stop the smoking, and I am good for the medical bills,” says Noah, stepping forward toward the doctor.
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Big Shot from New York is good for it…right. That’s all he’ll ever be good for,” snarls Hunter.
Noah takes no notice as he removes the cigarette from a protesting James’s mouth and walks to the bathroom to get rid of it. Before they left Fall Creek, Glyn had made sure that James Jackson’s reception at the hospital would be worthy of a VIP. All the right calls had been made and the right strings pulled. If James had to stay, he would receive one of the best rooms and food from the premier steakhouse in town.
“Oh, be quiet, you oaf,” says Kaylee, pulling on her husband’s hand. “He’s a little aggressive today because I started him off on his diet this morning at breakfast; he got granola, fruit, and yoghurt instead of his usual bacon, steak and eggs,” whispers my sister to me, chuckling.
I smile at her and promptly return my attention to the doctor. I spend a moment looking at the tall, spindly man who looks like he could use a Jackson special from the diner every morning to put a little fat on his frame. They must work these poor doctors to the bone I think when I remember the buzz of activity at the reception downstairs. This hospital is one of two in Burlington Vermont that takes care of the surrounding area.
“So, Mr. Jackson, may I give you the full report in front of your family or would you like some privacy?” asks the doctor.
“You can say it now. I have nothing to hide no more,” says James. I see some of the old fire return to his eyes. It gives me hope.
I listen intently as the doctor goes through his diagnosis. It starts off with the usual medical jargon and other things concerning James’s health and the tests he conducted. When I hear the words stage four cancer, the color drops from my face like paint trying to cling to a non-adhesive wall. I feel bile creep up my throat in a burning onslaught.
I try to imagine what Noah and Hunter must be feeling right now. If anything about the way I feel is something to go by, those two must be dying inside. Noah stands as still as a statue. The expression on his face is as stone. Next, to him, Hunter is the same. The only difference being is that his hand squeezes and un-squeezes my sister’s in a rhythmic motion.
“So, that concludes my diagnosis. We will, of course, run more tests, but the situation is serious. I suggest you spend some time with your family to discuss what is to be done. There is of course chemo, but we cannot be sure whether it will cure you, Mr. Jackson.”
I want to ask questions, but it is not my place to do so. I am not a member of the family. My sister only dragged me along because she knows of my close relationship with James. Why don’t Noah and Hunter say anything? They must want to know something. “Stage four cancer is the worst stage. Have there been any cases when it has been averted by the use of chemo?” I blurt.
The doctor looks at me with a curious expression on his face. “It’s okay, Doc. She’s my granddaughter. Unlike my two grandsons, she has her head screwed on the right way. Tell her what she wants to know,” orders James.
I look at Noah who smiles at me wanly. I can see he appreciates my directness and intervention. It is obvious that he is having great difficulty in dealing with the situation at hand. All of his customary bravado has been eradicated in the face of his grandfather’s illness. Seeing him like this reminds me that he is human and that the ridiculous front he put up at the party was nothing but a protective coating. Noah does not want anyone to know who he is, except maybe that Glyn guy.
“Well, it does occur that the cancer disappears, but it is very rare. This is why the decision to follow through with chemo must not be taken lightly. I have seen patients fight with the side effects only to succumb to their sickness while others recover swiftly ultimately.” The expression on the doctor’s face softens when he looks at me. “There is still time, so I suggest you have a good think about it…I must go now.”
My gaze follows the doctor as he makes his way out of the room. My whole world has just fallen apart. James forms an integral part of my life. He is the granddad I never had. Sure. I have a good relationship with my father, but my little chats to James are the icing on the cake. I don’t know what I would do if he were no longer around.
“So, the decision we have to make is obvious. Granddad is going to be moved to New York where he can be treated properly. I will, of course, check out other options just in case.” Noah doesn’t stop. He takes charge just as I imagined he would. It breaks my heart to see him like this. Like most rich people he thinks his money can buy life. Damn, that man needs a good woman in his life.
“Why the fuck are you putting up such a show?” asks Hunter. “You never cared about grandpa. You left when you were eighteen and never came back…fuck, you never even called or wrote a letter.”
“You know why that was,” says Noah.
“Do I, huh…na, I don’t know anything. All I know is that you and grandpa argued and then you were gone.” Hunter points at James. “He never told me what was going on and neither did you.”
“There was a problem between granddad and I. It was none of your business.”
Hunter steps closer to his brother. I swear he is about to hit him in the face. “We were close, Noah…real close. You left no contact number, nothing at all. In my book that’s the behavior of a real asshole.”
“Fuck you, Hunter. I couldn’t say anything,” says Noah, looking like he is about to explode.
The two brothers continue insulting each other. They speak the vilest words to one other as they try to pin the blame for the rift that took place so many years ago. Personally, I can’t tell who is at fault. None of what they are saying makes any sense to me. Not even my sister who is married to one of them is any the wiser. I look at James. He has his eyes closed. I can see that the shouting is getting to him.
“Hey, you two! Shut up!” I holler. “You are behaving like two little boys fighting over a candy bar.” My gaze swivels to Noah. “Not that your behavior last night wasn’t bad enough, you have to come here while your grandfather just got the shittiest news of his
life and act as if you are the most important person in the world. Damn, you are just about the most egocentric prick I have ever met.”
“Yeah, you tell him, Zoey,” says Hunter, grinning lopsidedly.
“You are no better, Hunter. You may be my boss, but right now, I don’t give a shit who you are. The way you acted was in no way better than your brother. I might’ve expected it from a bachelor who knows no better, but not from a husband and a father of two gorgeous children…shame on you Hunter.”
My sister adds another barrage of chiding remarks into the mix. I turn to look where Noah is standing, but he is no longer there. I cover my mouth with my hand. Maybe I was too hard on him. He must think I hate his guts. Oh, no, this is not what I wanted. I have already forgiven him for his arrogance or at least my dreamlike state has. Up until getting my sister’s phone call about James, the notion of having sex with Noah was a constant resident in my mind. There’s nothing like a person you love being carted off to the hospital to blow that notion in your brain to smithereens.
“You get out of here and bring us all some coffee. And when you come back, I don’t want to hear anymore arguing between you and your brother. You get that, Hunter?”
Hunter doesn’t stick around for more. He is gone before my sister finishes talking. I feel sorry for the brothers. What could’ve happened that caused such a fracture between two people who obviously loved one another? I can see they still do – deep down. It is obvious in the way they behaved. People that don’t care behave with indifference. There certainly was none of that before.
“Come here, Kaylee…Zoey.”
James’s rasping voice catapults me back to the main reason why I am in a hospital room. I exchange a brief glance with my sister before stepping closer to the bed. He takes my hand with his right and Kaylee’s with his left hand.
“Now, the two of you got to listen to me…” Both of us nod. “I need you to do something. This rift between Noah and Hunter has lasted for far too long. They used to love one another until Hunter was twenty years old and Noah eighteen…it was when Noah left Fall Creek…”
James continues telling us all about what happened. Kaylee is the most surprised because it involves her to a certain extent. I never expected to hear such things about Noah. Yet, somehow, I am not at all surprised. It confirms a lot of what I already knew about him. Noah Jackson is not a playboy without a heart. He is a man who was once disappointed in love. After that, he never wanted to take that first tentative step back onto the ladder of love again. It’s like riding a bike – when you fall off all you got to do is get back on again.
“Zoey, I need you to do a few things for me.”
“Yes, James, anything.”
He smiles at me. “First, I need you to arrange for me to go home right now,” he growls in typical James Jackson style.
“I don’t know…”
“Don’t you dare try and keep me in this shithole.”
“Okay, James. What else?”
He nods, satisfied that I would not defy him. “Hunter has the lovely Kaylee to look after him, and Noah has nobody. Well, he has Glyn, but he will be married to Serge one day, so he has his own life to deal with. I need you to look after my boy when I’m gone…promise me.”
I feel tears well up in my eyes. Next, to me, Kaylee is no better off. James squeezes my hand for my answer. I nod. “I will look after him, James. I promise.”
“Good. I know it won’t be easy, but you of all people are able to get through to him. By God, you managed it with me, and I am just about as stubborn as an ass,” says James, chuckling.
I know I will manage. Something happened between Noah and me, and I am eager to explore what it was or is. Intuitively, I know that he will no longer act the arrogant shit around me any longer. From now on, he will open up like a flower of that I am certain.
CHAPTER 9: NOAH
I can’t believe she called me an egocentric prick. I know that I was a real douchebag the night before, but it was not all my fault at the hospital. It was Hunter again, just as it always was. Granddad always took his side as if he was the younger brother. For one or another reason, grandpa treated me a lot tougher than Hunter. To this day, I don’t know why.
I walk a few more steps down the street toward downtown Burlington. Fortunately, it is not a cold day. The early autumn is not yet as cold as it can be when the winter in these parts threatens to be harsh. There is a fresh breeze coming from the direction of Lake Champlain, but that is about it. I look around for a taxi to take me back to Fall Creek. I have the undying urge to talk to somebody, and I know I have a captive audience in Glyn back at granddad’s place.
Grandpa had been the main reason I left Fall Creek. Up until that fateful day, I always had that dream with Hunter that we’d start a chain of diners together and spread out all across the northern United States. Grandpa had thought the idea was full of shit of course.
There was this girl too. I had loved her a lot. We never dated. She never had eyes for me. I always thought it was because she was my age and that girls tend to go for older guys. However, I never gave up. I kept going and going. I never told grandpa or Hunter who the girl was. To do so would have incurred endless teasing on their part.
One night, I was walking around Fall Creek with a spring in my step. It was the night before the spring festival, and I had made up my mind to ask the girl of my dreams out on a date. I remember whistling a merry tune. I was nearly skipping that was how excited I was about finally having the courage to do what I aimed to do for so long. It was the only way because how was she supposed to know I liked her if I didn’t at least show her.
I turned the corner onto Main Street. My gaze shifted to look down the small streets down the side as it so often did back then when I lived in Fall Creek. Only that time, one look brought my heart to a standstill. I saw my girl kissing another guy. I can still feel the pain to this day. It’s like somebody squeezing your innards with their hands, pulling and yanking until you feel sick to the core. The worst of it was that the man she was with was my brother, Hunter.
I raced back home to granddad and told him all about it. It did not take long for Hunter to follow because he had seen me. We argued, and we threw things at one another until we had neither the energy nor the vocabulary to do anymore. That was when granddad had stepped in. He said that I had to accept that the girl was Hunter’s.
I protested of course, but grandpa was relentless. He said that my destiny was not with some small town girl but out in the wide world. I thought his words hypocritical, and I still do. My granddad adores small-town women, and Zoey is the living proof of that.
I still feel the pain when I think about that momentous day. James Jackson wanted me out of Fall Creek, and so I left that very same night. I took what little I owned and had saved and went to New York. In a way, it was the best decision of my life, and I have Grandpa Jackson to thank for that. Had it not been for him, I would never have left. I know that now but I didn’t back then.
I cross the road and continue walking. At the next street corner, I can make out a taxi stand. I head right for it. On the way there, I stop. On the corner opposite the stand, there’s a bar with dim lighting inside. I press my lips together. I deserve a drink after all the shit I had to put up with since arriving in this part of the world.
The bar beckons to me with the promise of booze and light barman banter. It’s like an oasis of forgetful pastimes. It boasts the reality of forget-me-nots, but at the same time, it also is the promise of forgetting one's pain at least until tomorrow. I step in and walk up to the dark wooden bar counter. The place is nearly empty. This does not bother me in the least. All I need is a whisky or two before I head back to Fall Creek.
“What will it be, sir?” asks the barkeep when I sit down.
“Macallen whisky…neat please,” I grunt.
“Coming right up,” he says.
“Is there a drink in there for me too?” says another voice in a female purr.
I look up. Sitting further down the bar is a rather sexy looking woman. I immediately notice how well dressed she is. Also, she has a pretty face and from what I can see, a nice figure. My fuckability systems are in overdrive. They smell a fuck with an almost ninety-nine percent certainty. I should go over there and make a move.
****
“Where the fuck have you been? Glyn’s inside talking to Serge. Damn, those guys sure can talk on the phone.”
“It’s nice to see you too granddad. What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in hospital?” I say.
“Zoey helped me get out of that rat hole.” He winks.
“I see.” My eyes slit. “What happened to that storm you told us about?” I ask, looking at the placidity of the lake under the moonlight.
Grandpa chuckles. “I guess it didn’t turn out as bad as I thought it would.”
“You only said there would be a storm because you wanted me to stay, right? You thought that I was heading back to New York?”
“Well, weren’t you? You hardworking city types can’t stay anywhere longer than a day or two.”
“Yeah, you are right on that one. I am not going anywhere though. I promise.”
“Good to hear…Zoey will be happy also.”
The mention of that name brings on a bad conscience. How could I have even contemplated having sex with that middle-aged woman back at the bar? It was not her age that spooked me; I love forty-year-old women – there’s something decidedly hot about them. However, I feel as if I betrayed what little I have with Zoey. She may have been bitchy to me, but she was right to do so. How the hell can I be focusing on other women? I should be focusing on how to make it right between us.
It’s difficult for me. To drown my sorrows with some booze and then make moves on women is just the way I deal with stress. The alcohol and the pounding always did the trick in the past. Only this time I couldn’t do it. Alexandra, as the lady turned out to be called, said that I should head straight back to wherever it is she lives and ask her out. That was how readable I was. I had Zoey written right across my forehead.
