With the Last Goodbye

by Len Webster

  Weaving past some hospital staff, patients, and visitors, Josie made her way to the empty table and set the tray down once she reached it. She grasped the back of the chair and pulled it out. Her stomach grumbled angrily as she stared at the fruit salad she had ordered. Josie sat down and brought the fruit salad closer as her father sat opposite her.

  She gave her father a tight smile as she lifted the plastic lid off the container and reached for the fork. When she grasped it, she stabbed the first cube of fruit in her wake. It was a piece of rockmelon, and she popped it in her mouth and chewed it.

  “Rockmelon was always your favourite,” her father said, getting her attention.

  Josie glanced up from her breakfast to find her father staring at her with that faraway look as if he were trying to figure out who it was that sat opposite him.

  “You remembered?”

  Her father’s smile deepened. “I remember the first time your mother fed it to you as a baby. Your eyes lit up. It was the first of the melons you ever tried,” he informed with a sadness in his voice that had her heart aching.

  Josie set the plastic fork down on her napkin and gazed down at his eggs and bacon sandwich. “You’re not hungry?”

  Jeff didn’t move.

  All he did was stare at her.

  “You look just like her,” he said.

  Josie didn’t say anything.

  In old pictures, she saw the similarities. She was honoured to have her looks. But Josie lacked her mother’s honest heart and warmth.

  Her father reached out and grasped her hand. “The way you looked at Max, you resemble your mother. You looked at him the way she used to look at me. Full of love and devotion.” His eyes succumbed with a gleam. “You were absolutely beautiful, Josephine. You truly are your mother’s daughter. It hurts to see just how much of her you took after.”

  “Dad,” she whispered, hating the pain that consumed his face.

  “She used to look at me with that love and belief. She had that look of love even when I turned my back on you both and boarded that plane. After all these years, I still love your mother, Josephine. I wish she could look at me like that, and I could tell her how sorry I am one last time.”

  “She knows, Dad.”

  He squeezed her hand. “You love him a lot, don’t you?”

  “Too much,” she clarified. “I love him too much. If I can learn to forgive you for all your mistakes, then I can forgive him. He did come back for me. He told me why he had to leave, and I understand. I haven’t told him that I love him since before he broke my heart. I’ll tell him again … I just need more time.”

  “And he understands that?”

  “He does.”

  “That’s good.”

  They fell silent as they stared at each other.

  Their breakfast went untouched.

  Josie knew that this was the time to tell him.

  She had made her decision.

  He had a right to know.

  “Dad,” she said, covering their hands with her free palm.

  “Yes, Josephine?”

  Her lips felt dry, and she licked them. She knew she was stalling, but it wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have. Though her father had no input in her decision, she respected him and his relationship with her mother enough to tell him so he could prepare himself.

  “Dr Frederickson gave me the forms to end Mamma’s life support,” she announced. “I’m going to sign them.”

  Dread, heartbreak, and pain consumed his face. He paled so quickly she thought he was going to pass out. Her father opened his mouth to speak but closed it immediately and then nodded.

  She didn’t know what came over her.

  The sudden need to have him understand her decision consumed her.

  “I can’t let her suffer, Dad. She hasn’t improved. She can’t breathe without the machines … The cancer’s not going away …”

  “Hey,” her father said and reached over to brush her sudden tears away.

  Josie swallowed back the sob that had lodged itself in her throat. “I need you to understand,” she begged.

  “I do. I do understand, sweetheart. I stand by your decision.”

  “Promise me you won’t hate me or be disappointed in me for signing those papers,” she pleaded.

  Her father’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Josephine, I promise. Emily was my wife. But you are her daughter. I don’t get to make this decision. You do.”

  She pulled her hands from her father’s and brushed her tears from her cheeks. That pain in her chest seemed to intensify. The air she’d inhaled wasn’t reaching her lungs. The pressure of her decision was taking a heavy toll on her.

  “But if you were in my position, if you had to make the decision, what would you do? Because I can’t stop feeling like a monster for doing this to her.”

  Her father’s chin dipped, and his eyes focused on his sandwich. She noticed the tears roll off his chin and land on the table. Then after some time, his eyes found hers, and he uttered, “You’re making the decision I want you to make. You’re not a monster, Josephine. I want your mother to stop suffering.”

  For a moment, she was relieved.

  Then everything in her pained.

  Succumbed to ravishing heat.

  And the only way she could handle it was to cover her face with her palms and sob.

  Because she knew what she had to do.

  She had to sign her mother’s life away.

  After Josie stopped crying and got her emotions under control, she asked her father to tell her his favourite memories of her mother as she ate the rest of her fruit salad. A few tears escaped, but they were happy tears. Tears that reminded her that she still had wonderful, beautiful memories of her mother before cancer had struck her.

  Her father had tears of his own, but he had that soft, longing smile, and she knew he appreciated being able to discuss her mother. When he returned to Germany, she wasn’t sure he would be able to talk to anyone. As she listened to her father talk, it felt like another stitch was made over their broken relationship.

  They were communicating.

  They still had a ways to go before they had a proper father-daughter relationship.

  Truth be told, he had that with Heidi and Angelika.

  Josie would be his friend.

  His confidant when it came to his feelings about her mother.

  When she looked around, she noticed the café had emptied and they had spoken right through the breakfast rush. It was nice to speak to Jeff Faulkner and not have that disgusting feeling of being forgotten latch onto her heart. Her father caught her looking around and realised they had spent some time away from her mother and suggested they go back.

  “I’m really thankful for our talk,” her father said as they approached her mother’s room.

  Josie gave her father a smile that showcased her own thankfulness. “Me, too.”

  “Josephine,” he said as they stopped at the door.

  “Yeah?”

  Her father took a deep breath. “Do you think I could spend some time talking to your mother before you sign the form? That way I know when I talk to her it’s not because you’ve committed and signed on the dotted line?”

  “Of course,” she said. Then she grasped the door handle, twisted it, and gently pushed the door open, careful not to make much sound. When she stepped into the room, the sight before her warmed her chest. Max held her mother’s hand as he spoke. It was as if he’d known her for years. The softness in his voice caused her heart to clench.

  The sight was beautiful.

  He unknowingly gave her mother one of her last desires.

  To meet him.

  And that meeting was beautiful.

  Her father stepping into the room had Max’s voice fading into silence as he glanced over at them. She watched as he gently removed his hand from her mother’s and then stood.

  “Hey,” he greeted.

  Josie smiled.

  She couldn’t hel
p the smile she wore because of him.

  She couldn’t help the love she had for him.

  “Hello,” she said softly as she made her way to him and pressed her palms flat on his chest.

  Max gazed down at her. She felt his love for her. Even when he was breaking her heart, she felt it. She believed them to be lies, but they were truths. Truths she believed as lies to make her hate him for leaving her.

  “You were gone for a while,” Max pointed out as he reached up and brushed her hair behind her ear.

  “I’m sorry. We were busy talking.”

  He nodded and then bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Josie’s eyes fell closed at the feel of his lips. She breathed him in and felt her heart piece together parts that had broken away.

  “Max,” Josie’s father said.

  Max pulled away from her forehead, and Josie instantly missed the feel of his lips. It was a lonely, achy feeling she didn’t like.

  “Yes, Ambassador Faulkner?”

  Josie bit back a laugh at Max’s formality.

  “Jeff will do,” she heard her father correct. “Umm, Josephine, is my previous request okay?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to see the vulnerability flash in her father’s blue eyes. He needed this. He needed to speak to his ex-wife and apologise. He needed to hold her hand and speak of memories before she would become one for him. Whispered pleas for forgiveness before her mother’s last breath.

  Josie turned back around and tilted her head back to look at Max properly. “My dad wants to talk to my mother for a while. Is that okay?”

  Max nodded. “Of course.” He separated them, turned around, and picked up something from the table. Then he returned to her, and she noticed that it was the form she had to sign to end her mother’s suffering.

  Josie spun around and made her way towards her father. When she reached him, she pressed a kiss on his cheek and said, “We’ll be back. My phone’s with me. I won’t sign them until later.”

  When she pulled away, her father nodded and thanked her. She shifted her body slightly and noticed Max hadn’t moved.

  He was waiting for her.

  She decided she’d take the initiative and give him a sign.

  So Josie held out her hand to him and waited.

  Max’s eyes fell to her hand, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Then he took several steps, took her hand in his, and squeezed it firmly. She led them out of the room, giving her father some time with her mother. When they were in the hallway, Josie walked them to the wall opposite of the closed hospital room and let go of Max’s hand. She didn’t give him a second to hesitate as she cupped his jaw in her hands.

  “I had a long talk with my father,” she said as Max set his palms on her hips. The form she had yet to sign was between her hip and his hand, a constant reminder of what was to come.

  “I’m glad. You both talked for so long that I almost called you to make sure you were okay.” She heard the hint of humour in his voice.

  She pressed her lips into a tight smile. “He taught me something today.”

  Max tilted his head. “He did?”

  Josie nodded. “He still has a lot of regret for leaving my mother.”

  “Oh.”

  “He never came back, Max,” she stated. “He never came back for her and moved on. Now, he can’t tell her goodbye the way he probably wishes he could.”

  Sadness consumed the features of his face. “I feel sorry for him.”

  His chin dipped, but Josie lifted his chin so his eyes met hers. “You came back for me,” she stated in a whisper. “My father never came back for my mother. He never came back for me. But you did. You came back.”

  “It’s because I love you, Josephine,” he confessed.

  “I know.”

  “I love you,” he breathed, bringing her closer to him as he pressed his forehead to his. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  Josie pulled his head back, staring into his eyes.

  She felt his love.

  Saw it in his eyes.

  The lesson her father taught her was that regrets never went away.

  And she couldn’t continue to live a life of regrets.

  Looking into Max’s eyes, she whispered, “I love you, Maxwell Sheridan …”

  His eyes widened as they glazed over. “God, Josephine.”

  She pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss and breathed, “My La Vie En Rose.”

  “This is your favourite part of the city?” Josephine asked as she glanced up at the Shine of Remembrance. They stood at the bottom of the steps that led up to the Tynong granite building. He was sure she’d passed the Shrine more than a handful of times.

  Max kissed her temple with a chuckle.

  When their kiss ended after she confessed he was still her La Vie En Rose and that she still loved him, he offered to take her to his favourite spot in Melbourne to give her father some time with her mother. Josie had nodded, and he led her out of the hospital and to the closest tram spot. It was quicker to take the tram than to drive and find parking.

  He glanced down to find her raising her brow at him. “The Shrine of Remembrance is an amazing building, but that’s not my favourite part of the city.” He turned, and she mirrored him as they looked out on Ceremonial Avenue. Then he pointed out at the city in the distance. “You see those lane of trees?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s my favourite part of Melbourne because when you stand between those trees, you feel a sense of belonging as you look out at the city. The tall trees give you a different perspective of Melbourne that other parts don’t.” He looked down to see her staring up at him.

  “Take me there,” she requested.

  Max threaded his fingers with hers and walked her away from the Shrine, down a set of stone steps, and towards the trees. They weaved past a group of school children visiting the landmark and continued until they reached another set of steps. He squeezed her hand, then led her down each step and to the path between the lane of trees.

  It was glorious to stand between them.

  It always made him feel at peace.

  That nature was bigger than him and his problems.

  When they made it to the third pairing of trees, he stopped and pointed out at the city in front of them. “See how different the city looks from here?”

  Josie let out a slow exhale. “Yeah. Standing here … these trees … this path almost softens the city. Gives it … a gentleness I never thought Melbourne could have. I thought the Yarra during sunset was something else … but this is more.”

  “Exactly,” he said. He let go of her hand and turned his body to face her, and Josie did the same. He watched as she tilted her head back and took in the cloudless blue sky.

  “It really is a nice part of the world right here,” she stated as she lowered her chin and her eyes found his. “How did you decide this was your favourite part of the city?”

  Max pursed his lips and thought about the first time he was here. “It was after I graduated from law school. I went to Victoria University to piss off my dad. He always wanted me to go to Deakin, since it was his alma mater. In my second year, I transferred to the University of Melbourne. When I graduated, he demanded that I work for his firm since no one had hired me, and I had no other choice. I was pissed because he was right; I had no other choice. I had to have a year of placement in order to become a practising lawyer. I hated that he was right, so I went for a walk. And I walked and walked until I just stopped and found myself here. I spun around and looked out at the city, and I don’t know … I just got that feeling that everything would be okay.”

  “I like how you discovered this spot, Max.”

  “I’ve only ever had that feeling one other time in my life,” he revealed.

  She tilted her head at him, curiosity swept through her blue eyes. “Oh?”

  Max nodded. “The only other time was when I stood on that bridge and dropped pebbles into that lake with you. I felt like I
was where I was meant to be. You gave me this feeling that everything would be okay. You always give me that feeling, Josephine.”

  “Max,” she breathed as she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his.

  “Thank you,” he uttered.

  She pulled her head back. “For?”

  “For not giving up on loving me.”

  A soft smile stretched across her face. “Not enough time would have made me stop, Maxwell. I was heartbroken, but I realised you came back and chose me. I can’t be my father, Max. I can’t regret losing you when I had you. You made me happy, and you made me feel love. The other day …”

  “Yes, Josephine?”

  She exhaled slowly. “I told you that I loved your selfish heart … and that’s the problem.”

  He winced, remembering the tightness in her voice. “You did.”

  A small smile twitched on her lips. “I loved your selfish heart … and that’s the problem because your heart isn’t selfish, Maxwell. Your heart is loyal and selfless. Your heart is good and kind. Your heart is pure and has endured so much. You didn’t leave for another woman. You were trying to be a good friend. You were trying to make amends for your mistakes.”

  He was speechless.

  So in awe of her.

  “I love your selfless heart … and that is not a problem. It’s the truth, Maxwell. I love you.”

  “I love you,” he breathed, completely in love with that soft look in her eye.

  Josie let out a soft laugh as her arms tightened around him. “My dad says that I look like my mother when I look at you.”

  “When you look at me?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. He says that I look at you the way my mother used to look at my father. She looked at him like she was in love him. Just like I look at you as if I’m in love with you. Because I am. I’m still in love with you.”