Across the Creek (19 page)

She looked over the doctor’s shoulder into her father’s room. “How’s he doing?”

“I’m afraid it’s not good.” Defeat filled Dr. Bradtmiller’s face. “He was working in his garden when he fainted. He suffered a pretty good blow to the head. Luckily his neighbor saw him lying there.”

Norma Liken had been Stanley’s neighbor for the past five years and a widow for the past four. Sarah always suspected that she fancied her father, but he never seemed the least bit interested in her for anything more than a neighborly friendship.

“Why did he faint?”

“I’m not positive. He’s stable now. His speech is a little slow, but otherwise, physically he appears to be fully functional.”

Sarah bit back tears, swallowing as she tried to keep the lump from moving further up her throat, knowing that once she started, there would be no stopping. “Why has his speech changed?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m waiting for the results on the CT scan and MRI.”

Sarah bit her lip and wiped away tears that hung from the edges of her eyelids. “So are you saying that he could have brain damage?”

“Let’s wait for the results, Sarah. I’m going to call down to radiology and see if they’re ready yet.” Dr. Bradtmiller gave her another quick hug and whispered, “He’s a fighter, Sarah.” Then he walked over to the nurse’s station and picked up the phone.

Dr. Bradtmiller’s words came as little comfort. The chemo, the pills, the radiation, nothing had been able to stop the cancer her father fought so hard to beat. And nothing he could say at this moment would help either.

Sarah looked at her father’s room. Her feet were frozen with fear. She felt Jesse’s hand wrap around hers, offering his strength and support. And once again, he led her into her father’s room.

Stanley’s eyes lit up when he saw her. A blood-stained bandage wrapped around his head. Thin, clear tubes, strapped beneath his nose, ran to a set of other tubes that seemed to disappear into the side of his bed. He looked so pale, so weak, not like the strong man who used to carry her through the garden, sharing his love of plants with her. He reached up with his right hand and smiled as he waved them inside the room. A single tear slid down Sarah’s cheek.

Sarah grabbed his cold, thin hand. “Dad,” she said. “You aren’t supposed to be here. We were going to plant a tree this weekend. Our first tree at the nursery, remember?”

He nodded. “I remember.” He paused as if those two words had taken all the strength he had. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He gave her hand a squeeze. How much strength had that simple act cost him? “I don’t think I’m going to be able to.” His voice was exhausted.

“You shouldn’t talk.” Sarah rubbed his chilled hand. “You’re so cold.”

Jesse took a chair from the wall and placed it next to his bed for Sarah to sit down. She gently rubbed her dad’s gray hair, smoothing it down, the way he had done for her all the times she had been too sick to go to school. “You told me that you were okay. Why did you have to work on that stupid fence? Why did you have spend so much time in your garden, when you should’ve been resting?”

Stanley smiled. “You are such a good daughter.”

Jesse walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. Stanley turned his gaze toward him and smiled. Jesse placed a gentle hand on his leg. “It’s good seeing you again, Mr. Ramsey.”

Stanley nodded. “Good to see you.”

“Is there anything I can get you?”

Stanley shook his head and then looked at Sarah. “I have everything I need here.”

Sarah continued holding her father’s thin-fingered hand and wiping away the occasional tear that made its way down her cheeks.

Twenty minutes passed before Dr. Bradtmiller came into the room. “Stanley. How are you feeling, old friend?”

Stanley offered up a half smile. “I’m good.” Sarah still couldn’t get over how weak he sounded. She’d never seen him this way, this defeated.

The doctor placed his hand on Stanley’s foot. “Is there anything I can get you? Anything to make you feel more comfortable?”

Stanley shook his head, revealing the bloody side of his bandage, which caused Sarah’s stomach to wrench into knots.

“Okay. But if you need anything, just push that red button on your remote and one of the nurses will take care of you.” The doctor turned to Sarah. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

Sarah nodded and she and Jesse followed the doctor into the hall just outside the door. Her heart beat faster with each step they took into the hall.

“So, how bad is he?”

Dr. Bradtmiller looked her in the eyes, but it seemed like an eternity before he spoke. “The good news is that he doesn’t have a concussion.”

“That’s good.” But the fact he said that this was the good news meant that there had to be some bad news to follow. “Now what’s the bad news?”

Quiet.

“Come on,” she pleaded. “Just tell me what’s wrong with my father.”

“The CT scan revealed that his cancer has spread.”

The knots in her stomach tightened. “So what do we do now?”

“We’ve tried everything, Sarah, including chemo. Unfortunately, the aggressiveness of the cancer is more than we anticipated.”

“What about surgery? You said it was too risky six months ago, but if it will save his life we should consider it.”

Dr. Bradtmiller shook his head. “This type of cancer spreads like spider legs throughout his brain, attaching itself to tissue, making it impossible to remove surgically.”

“Can’t you try?” she pleaded.

“If it didn’t kill him, which it most likely would, he would suffer a tremendous amount of brain damage, and he would live the rest of his life on machines.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sarah. But there’s nothing more we can do.”

His words brought on a weight too heavy for her to bear. Her knees buckled and Jesse caught her on the way down. The tears she had fought so hard to contain flowed like the Nile.

Jesse and the doctor helped Sarah into a chair, each keeping an arm around her. She felt the narrow walls of the hallway caving in until breathing became difficult. Her father, her best friend and the one person who had never let her down, was about to die and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Your father and I go way back. He’s a dear friend of mine. Trust me when I say this. He loves you very much. He fought as long and as hard as he possibly could to stay here, to stay with you.” The doctor paused and a few tears rolled down his own cheeks. “We did all that we could. It just wasn’t enough.”

Sarah closed her eyes. How was this fair? That someone as good as her father would have to die before his time. He never hurt anyone. Never did anything but raise her the best he could. And now he was leaving her.

“How much time does he have?” she finally asked.

“It could be a week, a day, or an hour. It’s impossible to say,” Dr Bradtmiller answered. “But judging by how weak he seems to be right now, I’d say it’s not long.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Sarah cried.

He looked back at Sarah and placed a hand on her knee. “Use the time you have left. Tell him how much you love him. And say goodbye.”

Jesse

Jesse sat next to Sarah and placed his arm around her while she cried. Five minutes turned to ten and then twenty. The hallway felt sterile and cold. Apart from the occasional nurse walking by, they were pretty much left to themselves.

His heart broke for her. He knew how she must be feeling. His Uncle August was the closest he had had to a real father, and when he was gone, it was like all the color and warmth in the world had left.

“Do you need to call anyone?” Jesse asked.

Sarah nodded. “I should call Kevin.” Her rosy cheeks and puffy red eyes displayed the pain she felt in her heart. She placed a hand on his knee. “I’m so glad that you’re here.”

Jesse grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I’m glad I could be here for you.” He watched as her eyes trailed to Stanley’s room. “The nurse said that he’s sleeping now. Did you want to go see him?”

“I think I need to get some fresh air,” she said, standing up. “I’ll call Kevin and let him know what’s going on. Would you mind waiting here just in case he wakes up? I don’t want him to think that we left.”

“Sure,” he replied.

She walked toward the elevator with her head down and shoulders slumped, the life zapped from her body, like a candle blown out in the middle of the night. When someone as bright as Sarah suffered, it made the rest of the world a little darker.

Jesse walked over to Stanley’s room and leaned against the doorway. The man looked weaker than ever. Then, as if sensing Jesse’s presence, he opened his eyes.

Jesse walked into his room. “How are you feeling, Mr. Ramsey?”

“I’m fine.” The smile on his face echoed his words, but his voice peaked just above a whisper.

“Can I get you anything?”

Stanley shook his head, then looked around the room. “Where’s Sarah?”

“You were sleeping, so she went to get some fresh air and to make a phone call.”

Stanley lifted his arms a little and stared at the wires running from his wrists. “This is quite the mess I’ve found myself in, wouldn’t you say?”

Jesse responded with a smile.

“Please have a seat.” Stanley sat up a bit and pointed to the empty chair beside his bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Jesse took a seat and stole a quick look around the hospital room. The word “tiny” came to mind. Enough for one patient and two guests. A standup wardrobe closet, which most likely held Stanley’s things, took up half the wall next to the window. And a small television was mounted in the corner. “Did you want me to turn on the television for you?”

Stanley shook his head. The dim light revealed his sunken eyes and powder-white skin. His exposed mortality reminded Jesse of how hard it was going to be for Sarah to lose her father.

“Jesse?”

Jesse leaned forward. “Yes?”

“Tell me about your family.”

Jesse wondered how much Stanley knew about the events that had taken place when he was just twelve. After all, Clear Creek Trailer Park was just a few acres of woods and creek away from Whispering Meadows. But it may as well have been in a different state, because nothing about the two neighborhoods was the same.

“There’s really just my Aunt Sherry and my older brother Robbie now,” Jesse responded.

“What was your uncle like?”

Jesse thought back to the last days he had spent with his uncle. They had been much like this: a hospital bed, some oxygen tubes, and a chair where people rotated visits. In fact, Uncle August was, in many ways, a lot like Stanley. They had the same kind eyes and warm and welcoming personality. They could have been brothers. “He was a smart man,” Jesse said. “Looking at him, you wouldn’t think there was much to him. He was short and bald, and he smiled a lot. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, there was great meaning in his words. You know?”

“He sounds like a good man,” Stanley said.

“I was lucky that he took me in. I’m grateful for what he and my aunt have done for me and my brother. Most people would think twice before taking on a responsibility like that, but they didn’t hesitate.”

“Sounds like he was lucky to have you as well.”

Jesse just smiled.

“So have you thought about what you’re going to do once you finish school?”

Jesse looked down and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve thought about it. But with the store and everything, it would be difficult to go to grad school.”

Stanley lifted his hand and waved for him to come closer. Jesse placed his hand on the side rail and leaned in, meeting him halfway.

“Jesse, don’t make the same mistakes I did.” For a brief moment, Stanley’s eyes seemed to light up, as if someone had flipped a switch to the “on” position. Until now, Jesse had struggled to see a resemblance between Sarah and her father, but he could see it in their eyes. Blue as clear as a Texas sky, with a sincerity that made it easy to trust them. “Life’s going to give you every excuse not to follow your dreams. It’s up to you to make your dreams a reality. Chase your passion and go after what you love.”

Sarah

After filling Kevin in on the status of her father, Sarah hung up the phone. He said he’d get there as soon as he could. She’d heard that before and sometimes
as soon as he could
meant hours. But she hoped, given the circumstances, that it wouldn’t be long. There was no telling how much time her father had left. She wiped stinging tears from her eyes. Even the lotion-filled tissues couldn’t ease the soreness of her cheeks. She stared at her cell phone one more time before sliding it into her pocket. Of course he’d be here soon. She needed him now more than ever.

When Sarah returned to her father, Jesse sat relaxed in the chair by the bed. Neither noticed her at first. She leaned against the doorway, taking in the sight. Life was funny sometimes. Jesse Malone, sitting at the side of her father in his darkest hours, the same way he had done when they were twelve and Sarah and her mom had one of their blowouts and she had nowhere else to turn. Ever since they were kids he had this ability to make things better just being there.

Jesse looked up. He stood and motioned for her to take his seat next to her father.

Stanley turned to Sarah and smiled. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I don’t sleep well in hospitals.”

“I know.” She remembered the few nights they had spent at the hospital. It seemed they had to leave just so that he could get some rest. She reached over the rail and grabbed his hand. “Do you miss your garden?”

He nodded.

She looked at the bandage on his head. “You took a nasty spill today. Are you feeling okay?”

He squeezed Sarah’s hand. “Much better now.” The weakness in his voice told another story.

She reached over and gently rubbed his thin, gray hair. “Dad?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I’m scared,” she said, trying not to cry.

With a shaking hand, he reached over and gently rubbed her cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid, sweetheart. It won’t be long now.”