by Jessop, K. L
“Yeah, I went there first this time and showered before coming here. I needed to freshen up.”
“What’s the weather like in Milford Haven?”
“Beautiful. Although I’ve not seen much of it these past few weeks.”
“The project?” Mum asks.
“Yeah. It’s another charity painting for an online auction in aid of young adults with mental health. Anita reached out to them and asked if they were accepting donations from anonymous businesses and then told me to get painting.”
“Oh, how lovely. Isn’t that lovely, Robert?” We both look at Dad who is currently lost in his own world. His eyes are solely on the white bed sheets and worry washes over his face.
“Robert?” Mum takes his hand. “Darling, did you hear what Everly said?”
“Hmm? Yes. That’s wonderful.”
“Dad, are you okay? You haven’t been yourself since I got here.” I look at mum. “Neither of you have.”
He looks at Mum and I see her smile in reassurance as she squeezes his hand. When Dad looks up at me, my stomach drops as tears pool his eyes. “Everly, sit down will you please. Your mother and I would like to speak to you.”
I take a seat the opposite side of the bed to Mum as scenarios run through my mind. “What’s wrong? Are you both okay?”
“All things considering.”
“Well then what? Is it Adam?” I ask, my heart beating faster just the mention of his name. I’ve not seen nor spoken to him since I left Keswick, ten years ago, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think of him or ask my parents about him. I think about him every day and often cry myself to sleep if I’m having a bad day because he’s not here to hold me.
“No, darling it’s not Adam. He seems to be doing well.”
Seems. That’s all they ever say. Seems. “Well if it’s not him then what’s this about? You’re scaring me.”
Mum takes my hand in her as Dad takes hold of my other. I don’t like this already, and I want to run. They know I do to because when I go to pull away, they both hold on tighter. Tears fill my eyes as I whisper to my dad. “Please tell me.”
“Your mother and I have been talking long and hard about what I’m about to tell you. And…” His throat is thick with emotion as I notice a tear slip down my mum’s cheek. “I’ve decided to stop all my treatment.”
My blood runs cold and pain tightens my chest with his words. I shake my head and go to speak but words fail to leave my lips, and when he smiles at me softly with a warmth that tries to reassure me, I shake my head even harder hoping that what I’ve just heard is wrong. “No.”
“Everly, listen to me—”
“Why? Why would you do that? You have so much to live for,” I croak, a deep unbearable ache now in the pit of my stomach at what this means. “You need to fight, Dad. You promised you’d fight.”
“Sweetheart, my fight has gone. The cancer has finally got me.”
“Your father is now terminal, Everly,” Mum weeps.
“It’s not been an easy decision, Everly. But it’s for the best.”
“For who!” My tearful voice is raised, and I hate the fact I’m shouting at him when he’s so fragile, but at the same time, I can’t help but think how selfish he’s being. How can he have decided this without me? We’ve always told each other everything after they found out about Jamie and why I left. We promised to help each other get through the good, the bad and the ugly and here they are making a life changing decision without me. People fight this all the time. Doctors make mistakes. There has to be another answer to this. There has to be another way. I pull away from them both and bury my head in my hands as the tears erupt from my eyes. I’ve dreaded this day; I knew it would come but I didn’t think it would be today. Mum’s arms are now linked around my shoulders and she squeezes me in a tight hug as my tears fall. I don’t want to cry in front of them because I’ve done so much of it over the years, but I can’t control it anymore. I’m going to lose someone else I love. I can’t bear it.
* * *
I don’t know how long my mum held me in her arms but by the time my tears subsided, Dad had fallen asleep and dusk had gathered over the hospital. After having a long conversation with Mum about the pain she’s seen Dad in over the passing weeks, everything becomes a little clearer, and I now understand Dad’s reasons. He’s in constant pain and fighting a battle he will never win. It hurts, it fucking hurts to think of what the outcome will mean and not knowing how long I’ll have left with him, but I understand.
I lay on the bed cuddled up to him while Mum goes to sort stuff out for Dad going back home. I focus on his old-looking hand and listen to the soft sounds of his breathing while he strokes my hair tenderly. It’s only now I notice that there is no cannular in his hand. He’s not even been having any treatment while I’ve been here.
“I want you to know that this was the only option I had,” he says softly. “They can’t fix me, Everly, and I don’t want to be pumped with this nasty stuff that makes me feel worse just for the sake of it. I don’t want my last few weeks or months that I have left to be stuck in this place. You have to understand that?”
“I do,” I whisper as fresh tears glass my eyes. “I’m sorry I shouted at you. I didn’t mean it.”
“I know you didn’t.” Silence falls between us and I go back to concentrating on his hand and what he said. I don’t want his final days to be in here; he doesn’t deserve that. He’s worked too hard over the years to leave this place looking at sterile equipment and white walls. But then he speaks again, and it changes things completely.
“Everly, I want you to do something for me.”
I sit up to look at him and whisper. “Anything.”
“I want you to come home—”
My eyes widen, my heart is instantly in my throat and I start shaking my head before he’s even finished. “Dad, no.”
He grips my hand just like earlier and looks at me with those eyes of authority like he always did when I was a child, only now there is an edge of softness to them. “Everly, listen to me. Keswick is your home. I want you to come home.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
A tear slips down my cheek at what he is asking. My stomach pained with fear and my heart aching with everything that I know is back in that little town. “There’re too many bad memories, Dad.”
“And there’re so many good ones, too.” He squeezes my hand, with a smile. “Please. Not only do I want you with me at the end, your mother will need you more after. I’m not saying stay forever because I know I can’t ask that of you. But for a little while at least. I want to spend what time I have left with my two important girls. I want to sit by the lake with you and watch you paint. I want to cuddle you every chance I get. I want to see your beautiful face because I’ve missed seeing it every day that you’ve stayed away. I want you to come home, Everly, until I go. That’s all I ask.”
Fear and love fill my body in both equal measures. Fear of what he’s asking and what I have to face and haven’t been able to face in a decade, and love because he wants his family and those he loves by his side like old times in his final months. But Jesus, what he’s asking hurts like hell. That knife that is forever in my stomach has just been twisted even deeper. “You’re asking a lot from me, Dad.” My voice cracks on a whisper.
“I know.” He wipes my fallen tears and kisses my head. “The bad memories will be there, I can’t lie about that, but the monster has gone, Everly. He’s not there anymore. He’s robbed so much of your life already; don’t let him take any more. Please. Come home.”
A tear slides down his cheek as his eyes plead with mine. I can’t do this. It’s too much, but how can I say no? How will I feel knowing I’ve let him down if I turn away from him because I’m still protecting myself when all he wants is his family together one final time? How can I deny this dying man these last requests? I’m hurting, always have been, but I can’t lose him knowing I let him down. Swallowing down the
thick lump in my throat, I nod and say the words I never thought I‘d hear myself say.
“I’ll come home.”
9
Adam
“Have you got everything you need before you finish packing?” Mum asks as she heads into my bedroom with sandwiches and tea. She’s come over early every day this past week to check that I have everything or whether she needs to know anything regarding looking after Bailey before I leave tomorrow.
I think she forgets that I’m a thirty-year-old man that can think for myself. But then a part of me wonders if she’s making up for lost time. She often passes comment about how I grew up too fast and she feels like she’s missed out on so much of my childhood. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to bite my tongue and stop myself from screaming at her that I was always there but she just never saw me—never paid me the attention a son was wanting from his mother because she was to busy swooning over her new husband that caused our own relationship to sink. For years, it had been just the two of us, doing mother and son things and having fun together. Then, overnight everything changed, and it was as if our relationship had never existed.
“Yeah, I’ve got everything. I just need to stop by the pet store and get Bailey some more food as I’m almost out.”
“Shall I do that? I can do that.”
I can’t help but smile as I place another T-shirt into my case. “I appreciate that, Mum, but the bags I get are heavy as they last him for weeks. You won’t be able to carry it.”
“Ok.” She flutters around me as if trying to keep herself busy. “Will I need a list of what to do and not to do with Bailey?”
I stop what I’m doing and turn to her, placing my hands on her shoulders. “Don’t go to the other side of the lake with him because he likes to try bring home half of the wood and do try and relax. He’s a dog, Mum, not a child.”
She smiles but I can see the anxiety behind her eyes. “But he’s your dog and I want to make sure I take good care of him.”
One thing I’ve noticed about rekindling my relationship with Mum since Sam divorced her is her state of mind. She’s so much more on edge these days compared to how she was, and I can’t help but think it’s all the stress she’s been through with Jamie. Since having her back, we’ve talked a lot about our pasts and what direction our lives have now taken us. I’ve opened up to her about Everly and how she broke my heart more than people realised when she left and that I couldn’t see a life without her, and to my surprise she opened up about what it was really like living with Sam—that she’d wanted a life without him but had felt trapped in the one she had. I’ve also learnt that when Jamie had brought trouble to our door and I’d always felt like Mum sided with him and Sam, it was purely down to the fact Jamie would use his threatening ways towards her, so she’d felt she had no choice but to do as he said. I completely flipped my shit when I found out that he’d once hit her. She’d told me she fell at work.
It seems there is a darker side to that man than anyone realised, and each day that passes in Keswick, something else about him comes to light.
“You will take excellent care of him. Or should I say, he’ll take excellent care of you.” I look at Bailey who is watching us from the doorway. “Won’t’cha, boy?” Next minute, Bailey is standing on his hind legs wanting to cuddle into me and Mum.
“Okay, I’ll stop stressing.” She blows out a breath. “I just want to do a good job.”
“You’ll do just fine.” I wrap my arms around her, bringing her in for a hug.
“I love you, Adam. I’m going to miss you.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “I love you, too, but I’m only going away for a week.”
“It’s a week too long.”
My house phone rings and Mum is soon heading downstairs to get it while I continue packing. I’m so looking forward to this trip. Not only am I ready to show the students my teaching skills, I’m also excited about capturing some new images of the ocean and sea life that I may find down there to print off and start selling. My main area of photography—besides teaching it—is wildlife, and I’ve done pretty well with selling my images over the years, but it’s always nice to get something fresh and new from time to time.
Packing my last lot of clothes in my case, I zip up and turn to Bailey. “Well I think I’m done. I just need to stop off and get a few things in town.”
He barks at me as if he knows what I’m talking about as Mum comes back in to my room. “Who was that? Anyone important?”
Her face tells me something isn’t right.
“What’s up?”
“That was Helen Braithwaite on the phone. Robert has asked that you visit him at home as soon as possible.”
My stomach drops as I stare at her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I run my hands through my hair, Bailey now with his head on my knee as he senses my sudden mood change. I’ve not seen Mr Braithwaite in months because he’s been too poorly to venture out. When I found out that he had cancer, I didn’t know what to say or how to act. All I could think about was Everly. She always was a daddy’s girl. I know as time has passed on, Robert has been failing fast, so I’m assuming that getting a call can only mean one thing. It’s because his time on earth is coming to an end. “How did she sound?”
“Like a woman that has already lost the love of her life. It doesn’t sound good, Adam. I’m sorry.”
I blow out a breath, hating what I know I’m about to face but knowing I can’t not face it either. Regardless of how much time has passed, I respect that man too much to not accept his request of a visit.
“You can always go when you get back from the coast.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to take that chance and find that I’ve missed it because I waited. Mrs B wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t urgent. I’ll go now.”
“Shall I come with you?” she asks, rubbing my shoulder.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
Grabbing my phone and car keys from the cabinet, I make what feels like the longest drive of my life.
* * *
I sit in the car for about fifteen minutes trying to find the courage to get out and head to the door—the door to a house that brings so many memories. I spent years of my teenage life and early twenties in that house. Years where I laughed hard and loved harder. I’ve not stepped foot inside it for a very long time, and now I’m going back in to possibly say my final goodbyes to a man that I once looked up to as a father. The guilt of not remaining in contact cuts like a knife. I’ve let them down, I know that, but I had my reasons. However, what I’ve felt over time doesn’t seem to justify anything now.
Leaving the car, I knock on the door and wait, taking a deep breath as I contemplate what I’m likely to find on the other side. “Adam, you came. And so soon.”
Everly’s mum beams as the door opens, but I can see the pain behind her eyes and it hits me hard. My chest burns with emotion, but I swallow it down. “Sorry, I can come back another time; it’s just I’m away from tomorrow.”
“No, no it’s absolutely fine. The doctor has just made Robert more comfortable.”
“How is he?”
“He’s good. Happier now that he’s home.” She smiles softly and squeezes my arm. “You go on up. I’ll bring you some tea.”
I do as requested and head up the stairs. Knocking on the door lightly, I step inside a silent room. “Mr Braithwaite?” I say softly and my breath catches with the sight before me. Everly’s dad sits in a high-back chair looking out of the window. A thick winter blanket covers his lap. His dark blue pyjamas drown his thin, weak body. His eyes are yellow, his skin ghostly. He’s like a little, fragile old man and it pains me to witness it. Robert Braithwaite was always a man I valued greatly. His passion and drive for life was everything, and no matter how bad a day he was having, he’d always have a smile on his face. Being here now is not only uncomfortable but it’s sad.
“Come in, son.”
I walk in and sit in the vacant seat
beside him. Every emotion and feeling a person could ever feel is racing through my body right now, and it's making my chest burn deeper the longer I'm here.
“How are you doing?” I ask, feeling like an idiot for the question I've just voiced.
“Still riddled with cancer.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
As if he felt my awkwardness, Mr Braithwaite chuckles. “Don't worry about it, Adam. It’s a common question that everyone asks because they don't know what else to say. But I'm as good as I can be. I'm happy that I’m home, the only place I wanted to end the incredible life I've had.” Silence falls between us and I focus on my hands that are clasped in my lap. The ticking of the bedside clock is like a drum in my ear.
“I hear you’re going away?”
“Yes, sir: school photography trip with the year elevens. A week down at the coast before the summer break.”
“South Cornwall, am I right?”
“North. Sand, sea and screaming kids.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
I chuckle. “Tell me about it. I think I’ll need a holiday to get over the week.”
This time Robert chuckles—a chuckle that soon turns into a hacking, painful-sounding cough. He brings his handkerchief to his mouth, and I sit forward, wanting to somehow help him but feeling helpless at the same time. He slightly raises his free hand, signalling to me in his frail state that he’s alright as Mrs B comes in with tea. She tends to her husband with so much love and care it’s beautiful to watch—making sure he has some water and is comfortable before kissing him on the head and leaving us alone again. It’s right there in that moment that everything hits home more than it already had. This man is dying.
Guilt radiates through me and I blink back the tears. Despite everything, Robert and Helen Braithwaite were always like family to me, and over the years I’ve let my heartbreak over Everly cause a rift in my relationship with them. “I’m sorry, Mr Braithwaite. For not keeping in touch.”
