Mitchell pulls out and drives faster than ever before. He holds my hand across the console while Hamish reaches forward and lays one of his hands on my shoulder. I manage to keep myself together in the car, but the moment I run through the doors of the hospital and find Zoe, I break down in tears. She takes me in her arms, and I cry into her shoulder. “Where’s Annette?” I mumble in her ear.
“She’s still in the room with Mark.” She points to the door opposite us.
“Do you think she'd mind if I went in there to see her?” I ask as I wipe away my tears.
“I think she’d love to see you,” Zoe smiles, but it’s forced.
Taking her hand in mine, we walk across the hall, but suddenly, I feel a hand on my back, and when I look around, I see Hamish.
He doesn’t need to say a word. I can already tell what he’s thinking. “Stay strong,” he coos.
Nodding, I take a deep breath and open the door to the room. The first person I see is Annette, who's seated on a chair, her head resting on Mark’s hand.
He doesn’t seem dead. He looks as if he is sleeping. Annette gazes up and sees me, her eyes welling with her grief. I let go of Zoe’s hand and bolt over to where Annette's seated. I notice she’s preparing herself to receive the full extent of my weight. I slam into her, almost sending her flying off the chair. "I’m so sorry, Annette," I cry.
My chest heaves with my grief. I feel as if it was my father that had passed away.
It takes me a few minutes to be able to calm myself enough to push through and remember that I came to comfort Annette. Not me.
When I've regrouped, we all pull our seats around the bed and sit in silence. I have no idea what the hell I am supposed to do in a situation like this, so I sit and try to comfort Annette the best way I can by holding her in my arms.
Some time passes, and Annette looks up at me, “Would it be okay if I asked you to go and check on Jimmy? No one’s with him.” It kills me to see her like this. Her eyes tell a story, one of sadness and heartache.
“Of course, I will.” I look over at the others and give them a knowing look. “Take care of her,” I mouth to them. Immediately Hamish stands, he comes over and takes my spot next to Annette, and when he does, I lean in and kiss his cheek in thanks.
As I enter the ICU, I see Jimmy is still lying in the same position I left him in last night. The machines are still doing most of the work, and it breaks my heart. Jimmy has always been so full of life, and seeing him here like this, kills me inside.
Taking the seat closest to him, I lay my head on his shoulder as I have always done.
They say that coma patients can hear your voice, so I begin to talk to him. “What a week we’ve had. Do you have any idea how boring it is for your mum and Zoe sitting around all day?” I chuckle. Jimmy and Hamish are the two people I'd go to with relationship problems, and it always turns into a laughter fest. So instead of talking about the crash, or his injuries, I decided to speak to him, in the same manner, I would if we were sitting back having coffee. Comfortable and familiar.
“Anyway, you should see what that best mate of yours is up to. He’s putting me through hell, and he still spends all his time with you guys and forgets about me. He did promise he'll try harder, but I guess we'll have to wait and see. You’d better not say a word of this when you wake up. Oh, and, by the way, when do you think that will be?” I ask, smiling, but of course, I receive no answer, so I continue to talk his ear off without mentioning Mark’s passing. He doesn’t need to be trapped in his head, and body, agonizing over the news.
A little while later, Zoe walks into the room, and my gaze lifts to meet hers. “So, how’s my baby doing?” she asks, smiling.
“He managed to get every little bit of juicy gossip out of me,” I chuckle.
“He’s good at that. He always says to me, ‘Gossip is all you girls ever do.’ Then he always proceeds to ask me what the gossip is.” She smiles again.
“He’ll be back with us soon, Hun. He’s just resting up so he can come back in full force,” I tell her. I know he will.
She looks over at Jimmy. “I know he’s right here in front of me, but I miss him so much; it’s just not the same.” She shakes her head.
“I know it isn’t. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” I proceed to sit up, I then lean in and hug her. I hold her against me for a silent few minutes. “I’m going to go down and check on Annette. Will you be okay here for a few moments?” I ask. She nods her head, and I hug her again.
As I walk into Mark’s room, I come to a standstill as I watch the orderly pull the sheet up over his face, and that is my cue to lose it. It's real. Too real. I begin to cry in the doorway, and I can’t seem to catch a breath. ‘Shit, a panic attack. No, not now,’ I think. Fuck, I can’t have one now, not now, I need to be strong for the others.
As I continue to try and catch my breath, Annette and Haim are at my side in an instant. I lower myself to the cold floor, and it feels a whole lot better down here. My chest heaves as I try to take a breath, but it's impossible. I hear a stranger's voice ask if I’m okay, but Haim explains it's a panic attack and that all I need is some space.
After I've regained my breath and my focus, I watch on in stunned silence as the orderly's wheel Mark away.
Once the tears subside, we regroup and go up to Jimmy’s room in the ICU. The nurses already knew about Mark passing away, so they accommodate us by breaking the ‘only two people to visit at a time’ rule.
As soon as I feel comfortable enough to leave the room again, I let Mitchell know I’ll be back in a minute and that I'm going into the hallway to call my dad. I feel he should be here with us. He needs to be with us.
My father grew up with Annette and Mark, and honestly, I have to have him here. I need his strength and wisdom to get me through this horrid time, so I take my phone out of my bag when I know I'm far enough out of earshot, and dial his number.
He picks up on the fourth ring. “Hello,” he answers in his thick Irish accent.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Cassie, Love. How are you?”
“Honestly, we’re shithouse here, Dad.”
“What’s going on, sweetheart?” his voice now full of concern.
“I didn’t want to have to tell you over the phone, but-” I pause for a moment and take a deep breath so I can finish my sentence. “Dad, Mark had a heart attack. He passed away a little over an hour ago.” I want to cry just saying the words. A lump is forming in my throat.
“Fuck, Cassie. Please tell me you’re kidding? What about Annette? What is she doing, is she okay? Does she need anything? Do you need anything? Tell me what I can do?” his voice is rushed and panicked.
“The first thing you can do for me is slow down. And to answer your questions, I don't know. We're all trying to keep it together for Jimmy’s sake.”
“What’s wrong with Jimmy?”
“Dad, do you ever check your messages?” I both texted and left voice-recorded messages on both his house and mobile phones.
"Not really. What happened to Jimmy?”
“He was in a car accident last night. When the doctors came in and said to us that they weren’t sure if Jimmy would make it, Mark collapsed right in front of me. It was terrifying, Dad.” I can feel the tears sting the corners of my eyes.
“I’m leaving home now, sweetheart. It’s a nine-hour drive, but I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you so much, Dad. I need you. I think we all do.”
“Okay love, I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks, Dad. Be safe.”
“I will. Bye, love.”
We hang up from each other, and I feel a little better knowing my dad will be here in just a few hours. I look up from my phone and see Annette walking towards me. “I just spoke to Dad. He’s leaving the house now, and he’ll be here in a few hours.”
She gives me a slight smile. “He doesn’t have to do that. It’s a long drive for him. Will he be okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, he’ll be okay. I’m sure there will be a few speed laws broken,” I tell her.
“That’s what I’m worried about. You inherited the speed gene from your father. The pair of you stress me out.” She chuckles. After hugging Annette for a few minutes, we see Courtney racing up the hallway towards us.
I’d called Adam amidst the chaos and asked him to break the news about Mark to her. I knew she’d be devastated.
I pull away from Annette and run to take Courtney in my arms, enveloping her and I let her cry on me. When she feels strong enough, she pulls back to look me in the eyes. “Is it true?” she whispers.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell her in a whisper. A moment later, I feel arms come around and hold us. I look up to see that Annette had hung around, she’s more like a mother to us than Rose ever was, and we stay there until our arms grow tired. “I’m going to go for coffee. Do you want to come with me?” I ask Courtney, and she slowly nods her head.
My poor girl, this will devastate her for years to come. I take her hand in mine while we sit and wait for our order, and as we do, I decide to gently break the news to her that our dad was coming to town. “So just before you came up to ICU, I was on the phone with Dad.” I look at her to see her expression, but I think she is still too devastated about Mark to comprehend what I’m telling her because her face is void of any emotion.
Courtney was too young to understand anything that was going on around her when our father left. All she has heard for years is our mother’s side which has led to her cutting off all contact with him. “Court?” I say a little louder.
This time, she looks up at me. “Yeah?”
"I was trying to tell you that I spoke to Dad. He's on his way down here, and I don’t know if you want to see him or not. I wasn’t sure, considering the circumstances.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to see him. But thanks for the heads up.”
This is killing me. I need to find a way to reunite them. I know that things will sort themselves out, but I can’t focus enough to be able to think of a solution right now, but I will.
“No problem.” Our order is called, and we take the coffees back up to the ICU and hand them out to everyone. We sit as a group for a good few hours. At some points, we would struggle to stay awake, but the rest of the time, laughter was shared amongst us.
Later in the night, I receive a text from my dad telling me he'll be arriving soon. I look up at Court and catch her attention. “Dad just sent me a message saying he’ll be here soon. Would you like me to call you a cab?” I ask. I hope she says no. I hope she'll give him a chance to explain himself, but my heart knows better.
Before Court can say a word, Mitchell jumps in, “I can take her home if you like? It’s getting late anyway. I’m sure Hamish wants to go and get some sleep.” He looks at Hamish who shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m not fussed, dude. But I do think that if we’re going, we should do it now so we don’t put Courtney in an uncomfortable position. Her dad will be here any minute,” Hamish explains.
Everyone agrees, and we all stand to say our goodbyes, then I walk Mitchell, Hamish, and Courtney out to the front doors. Courtney and Hamish walk ahead so I can say goodnight to my boyfriend. "Thank you for staying with me tonight,” I tell him. It’s been strange seeing him two days in a row, but even though he's been here, at the hospital, he's still been distant.
Throughout the day, when I'd become weak, break down, and cry, it was Haim who would comfort me, and not my boyfriend. I thought it was his job to cheer me up, but as usual, it was Haim to the rescue.
Mitch takes another step forward. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else." I find that hard to believe. "Try and get some rest.” He uses his finger to lift my chin.
Reaching up, I kiss his lips. “Okay,” I smile but it's hollow. I hope deep down we can make it work out together.
Before turning, he kisses me again and sets off in the same direction as Hamish and Courtney. He looks back and gives me one last smile, then turns the corner, leaving my sight.
Back up in ICU, just before I reach the room, I spot an empty recliner in the hall. I take a quick look around the ward and see that no one is paying any attention to me, so I take it. I race into Jimmy’s room, pushing the chair and whisper a loudish ‘Surprise’ to Annette.
She looks over at me, and I see her eyes widen. “Where did you get that from?” she asks.
I give her a mischievous smile. “I stole it. Here, sit your butt in it. You need to get some rest.” I take her hand and help her up off the hard chair and into the comfortable recliner. The look of exhaustion takes over her features, and sure enough, within three minutes, she’s peacefully asleep.
While I’m reading a trashy magazine I found in the waiting area, I see the door open, and my dad sticks his head in. I glance over and see that Annette is still sleeping and that Zoe has also nodded off. Standing, I place the magazine on the bed tray and quietly walk out of the room, careful not to wake them. I then close the door behind me. When I turn to face him, I throw my arms around my dad and hug him tight, but I soon remember that he only just had surgery, himself, so I loosen my grip.
My father just had six melanomas removed from his back last week, and I hope to God they managed to get it all, but we won’t know for a few days whether the operation was successful.
“Hey love, how are you coping?” he asks.
“I’m okay. Tired, but okay.” I smile as I look into his green eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Same as you. Tired, but okay. What about the others?” he points toward Jimmy’s room.
“They’re okay for the moment, a bit buggered, but that’s to be expected.” I shrug.
“Has there been any change with Jimmy?”
Shaking my head, I respond, "He isn’t any better than he was nine hours ago, but he isn’t worse, either. We seem to be stuck in a horrible waiting game,” I explain.
Dad gives me a warm, reassuring smile, and pulls me in for another hug. I forget how safe I always feel when I'm wrapped up in my father’s arms. It’s a feeling I wish would never go away.
A few minutes later, we very quietly enter the room, my father takes Jimmy’s hand in his, and I watch as he stares down at him, tears brimming the corners of his eyes.
As I keep my gaze locked on them, I hear stirring and look over to see that Annette is waking up from her nap. “Patrick, when did you get here?” she asks, and I see relief flood her features.
Gently, dad lays Jimmy’s hand down and walks over to embrace Annette. They stand and cry together for some time; they are just like brother and sister.
The two of them met back in 1969 when my father and his family moved to Australia from Ireland. Annette was his first friend at school, and they have been close ever since.
Dad moves one of the chairs scattered around the room close to the recliner Annette is again seated in, and in no time at all, he has her in fits of laughter. Dad has that effect on people, and I love it.
No matter how devastating the circumstances, my father can always make the crowd roar.
A little while later, Dad announces, “I’m going to get a pizza delivered, and every single one of you anorexic girls, is going to eat some.” He must know I’m about to comment because he holds his hand up. “Before you even bother starting on me, I have cancer, so I have an excuse to be slim. So don’t fuck with me.” The asshole then winks at me, and I have to chuckle.
You see, when it comes to the big ‘C’ word, dad and I are not the sort of people to sit back and cry about what might happen. We get on with things and laugh our way through our problems. If we didn’t have laughter, the stress of my father’s illness would have taken its toll on us by now. I’m not ready to say goodbye to him. I need him with me. My life is so fucked up in so many ways that if it weren't for the fact that I had one parent that loves me unconditionally, I would have already sunk into a profound and dark depression.
Automatically,
I walk out into the hallway following my father, and I am in utter awe of how he manages to keep it together. As soon as he's off the phone, I ask him, “So, Dad, where are you staying while you’re here?”
He slips his phone into his back pocket. “I’m not sure just yet, I tried calling Will, but he must be on night shift this week. I’ll keep trying to call him.” He shrugs.
“I’m sure we'll figure something out,” I smile up at him. “Thanks again for coming, Dad. I know it’s a long drive for you.”
In one swift movement, he comes forward and drapes his arm over my shoulder, and pulls me to him while I wrap my arms around his waist, the same way I did when I was a little girl. “Mark was my friend, Love. I would have driven twenty hours to get here if I had to. I can’t believe he’s gone. None of this,” he points to Jimmy’s room, “makes any sense to me. You said Mark just collapsed?”
“Yeah.” I sigh, “We were listening to the doctor explain Jimmy’s injuries, and when I looked over towards Mark, I could see he was beginning to falter. As I was reaching out to help him, I looked into his eyes, and it scared the shit out of me, Dad. There was no one in there. It was like his soul was already taken. It wasn’t the Mark I knew.” I squeeze my eyes shut in a bid to keep the tears from coming. Dad holds me a little tighter. “I love you, Dad,” I whisper.
“I love you too, princess.” He pulls away just enough to look at me. “Let’s go in and wait for the food.”
Once the pizza arrives, we sit around the room talking and eating as we have done time and time again over the years.
“So, Cassie, have you decided whether you will be moving in with me yet?” Dad asks over a mouthful of pizza.
Zoe and Annette’s heads jerk up in surprise. Shit! I haven’t said a word to them about me wanting to move away. To be honest with you, I haven't thought much about it over the last few days.
“What?! Are you thinking of moving?” Zoe yells, but the moment she does, she clasps her hand over her mouth in a bid to keep herself quiet because the ICU isn’t a place for raised voices. “Shit, sorry,” she whispers, embarrassed.
The Beginning Page 4
