Selling the Drama (38 page)

Toby laughed again as Chad joined him, the
pain of laughing well worth the feeling of liberation it created
within. Toby could not think of anyone other than Chad he would
prefer to have beside his bed right now. Chad may not be as close
to him as Jake, but Toby thought that this might be one of the
reasons why he would be able to stand it. Having Jake here would
necessitate the type of performance Chad had just outlined, the
type of performance Toby had to a certain degree been effecting for
Charlotte. There was an instinctive need, that no matter how bad he
felt, to at least try and make those around him feel less bad, and
it was tiring. Exhausting. He could press his own pain medication
button. He could sit up now and reach things that were left close
by. What he was unable to do, the nurses could assist him with; it
was what they were paid to do. Lying there, feigning sleep while
listening to Chad railroad Charlotte into going home for a while,
had been like a blessing. She needed a break. And as much as he
loved her, completely adored her and worshipped the very ground she
walked on, so did he.

"Seriously though, I've been where you are.
And there are some things I haven't forgotten." Chad looked at him
seriously then, his sympathy very real and very meaningful, and
Toby was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards
him, for his thoughtfulness, and his intuition.

"Although, I figured I might have been in
the opposite place to you. Like, at the start, when I first woke
up, lying there, in pain, waiting to recover, I still had hope.
That I would get better. That my brain would heal and I would go
back to uni and become an engineer and that the whole episode would
just become a blip on my past. But of course, I was dreaming. None
of that was going to happen. My life, the way I knew it, was over.
Everyone knew that, it was only me that had to catch up and get
with the program. But for you, things are pretty shit now, and your
recovery will take longer than mine, but you're going to get
better. In a couple of weeks, they'll come in here, strap a new leg
onto you, get you up on your feet, take that cast off your arm,
un-tape your ribs, tell you take multi vitamins because you don't
have a spleen anymore, and that'll be it. You'll get better. You'll
go back to your life. Eventually, this will become a blip on your
past." Chad pulled up a chair and sat down on it backwards, his
arms hanging over the back. "You're a lucky son of a bitch."

Toby stared at him. "I've always hated that
term. Lucky. I've been lucky before. It's a backhanded concept. I
was lucky my father didn't kill me. But did that make me lucky in
life? What the hell is luck anyway? It's bullshit. But I get where
you're coming from. And I mean no offense when I say this, but I am
so fucking relieved that I am not going to have to go through what
you did."

The longer Toby knew Chad, the more he saw
of the limitations Chad was forced to endure within his daily
existence. Chad was, in Toby's opinion, a much better person than
what he gave himself credit for. He didn't know where Chad had
managed to come by this affability and acceptance, but he had it in
spades and Toby admired him greatly for it, even though the
condition his friend suffered terrified him more than the concept
of having no leg. Toby's very definition of himself hinged on his
career, and he could not have his career if he did not have full
command of his mind. He could however, have his career with only
one leg.

"Knowing you makes me feel a whole lot
better about the shitty state I'm finding myself in right now,"
Toby remarked, with a wry grin. Being around Chad for any length of
time usually brought out the honesty in him. He knew Chad would not
take offense at this.

"Glad to help in any way I can," he replied
with a shade of sarcasm. Then, without waiting a beat, Chad changed
the subject entirely. "I'm going to be a father."

Toby grinned widely, surprise mingling with
joy at this piece of news. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Chad grinned back at him. "In about
seven months. We're going to move up here. So Jenna can be around
family who can give us a hand." Chad paused, the grin leaving his
face. "There's a limit to what I'll be able to do. On my own with a
baby. A child will be different, as they get older, I can tell them
what to expect and they'll know what to do if I need help, but when
they're still tiny and dependent on me, it's not safe."

There wasn't much Toby could think of to say
about that. It was true. But it was also very sad. He loved those
moments when it was just him and one of their babies together. A
moment that he would never have thought twice about partaking in,
yet for Chad, those moments would be wrought with stress and
anxiety, probably compounding the problem and increasing the
likelihood of something going wrong. "I think you will be a
fantastic father," Toby said instead, sincere in his
compliment.

"I think I will try and be a fantastic
father, but I'm shit scared I'm going to end up being the worst
kind of father that could ever happen to a kid."

Toby stared at Chad for a long moment. "Take
it from me, I know what the worse kind of father to happen to a kid
is, and it's not ever going to be you."

Chad was right. The kids were not coping.
All four of them fell on her the minute Charlotte walked through
the door. She figured the best thing would be to just go along with
it, so she collapsed onto the couch, Ashley tucked into one side of
her, Bree pressed into the other, Courtney curled across her knees
with her little thumb wedged into her mouth, and Danielle snuffling
at her chest looking for relief from the bottle she so clearly
seemed to resent. Lying with all of her children surrounding her,
Charlotte put her head back against the couch and closed her eyes,
falling asleep within minutes.

Jake took Ashley fishing in the late
afternoon. It was something he had been promised, and not even the
lure of having his mother home was enough to sway him from going.
Ashley loved to fish, and his enthusiasm for the activity was one
of the things that gave her further reason to resent her father's
removal of himself from their lives. Royce had been a keen
fisherman and Charlotte, in her more melancholic moments, could
well picture the two of them sharing in the experience. Giving his
little body a big squeeze, Charlotte kissed Ashley goodbye with
promises of tucking him in that night before she returned to the
hospital.

"Catch lots of fish!" she called out as they
got into Jake's Ute.

Jake beamed at her, leaning out the window.
"He's fishing with me. There's always lots of fish," he
bragged.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at that and waved
them off. Turning on her heel, she searched for Bree, finding her
dolling herself up in her bedroom, adjusting a tiara with a
bejewelled hand. "You look very snazzy, Bree. What's the occasion?"
she asked, leaning against the doorway. Courtney was spread
sideways over her bed, fast asleep, still at that age where she
could sleep for a couple of hours each day without it affecting her
bedtime.

Bree whirled around, a determined look on
her face. "I want to see Daddy!"

Everything Bree said was delivered as a
demand. Charlotte shook her head. "Ashley is gone and the other
girls are asleep. It's not a good time."

"That's what makes it the perfect time!
Let's go!" Bree dashed out into the hall, her head held high, her
little arms swinging either side of her.

"Bree," Charlotte called after her. "I don't
think it's a good idea." She watched as Bree paused in the hallway,
her little back straight, determination fixed upon her. Preparing
for a tantrum, Charlotte waited, watching her daughter, bracing
herself. But then Bree's shoulders began to shake, and the little
girl dropped to her knees, sobs emanating out of her that were
anything but dramatic. They were heartbreaking and Charlotte raced
to scoop her up, the sight of her eldest daughter - the one who was
by far the toughest, falling apart like this, enough to bring her
to tears also.

"Honey, what's the matter?" she asked,
knowing though that there were probably so many things wrong that
Bree would have difficulty articulating them all. The stress this
little girl had been under was enormous.

"You said Daddy wasn't dead!" she wailed.
"But you won't let me see him so he must be!" Her sobs were now so
heavy they were accompanied by hiccups.

Charlotte felt winded by Bree's distress.
"He's not dead. I promise." Making a snap decision, even though she
was pretty sure Toby might not want Bree to see him in the hospital
right now, she looked into Bree's tear-filled eyes, brown pools
that were a mirror of her own. "Let's go and surprise Daddy with a
special visit just from you."

Bree's face lit up instantly, her body
squirming to get down out of Charlotte's arms. "Just wait a tic
Mummy while I go and fix my face!" She scrambled back up the hall
to the bathroom, intent on looking her very best for her beloved
daddy.

Charlotte watched her go with a mixed
feeling of pride and dread. There was a very real likelihood of
Toby not being all too pleased about this. He still looked bad; his
injuries still all encompassing. There would be no hiding the
extent of them from Bree. Charlotte decided not to forewarn him.
Things were not working this way. They could not just wait until he
was better before letting the kids see him. They deserved more than
that and the stress of being held back was clearly becoming too
much for them. Bree had been told countless times that her father
was still alive, but for her, seeing would really be the only way
of believing. Charlotte expected this might be the case for the
others also.

Bree dashed back out of the bathroom, her
face washed clean of all tears now. The tiara sat proudly on top of
her long dark brown hair. She was wearing a tutu skirt with a
Barbie t-shirt, a pair of butterfly wings, her best sandals, and a
plastic ring on each finger. Twirling for her mother, Bree held out
the sides of her skirt. "Do you think Daddy will like how I
look?"

Charlotte smiled at her proudly. "Yes I do.
I think Daddy will be speechless."

Bree flew into the room like a bullet coming
at Toby with full force, Chad scooping her up before she hit the
bed. "Whoa, wait up a minute little miss." He held her firmly, her
body squirming in protest at having been stopped in her tracks
before she reached her destination.

Toby looked over at Charlotte, meeting her
eyes, a silent question and answer passing between them.

Why?

Because it's Bree.

Chad was talking to Bree, or rather, talking
over the top of her high pitched protests at being contained. "You
need to listen to me, or I won't let you go," he was saying, a
calming tone to his voice. "Look at Daddy carefully and take note
of where he looks hurt. You can't bounce on him. If you sit up with
him, you have to be gentle and stay beside him, not on top of him.
You have to pretend that Daddy's made of glass."

Bree looked down at Toby solemnly, her eyes
raking him from head to toe and right back up again. Turning her
gaze back to Chad, she nodded. "Got it! Now put me down on the bed
gently!"

Chad looked down at Toby, who nodded in
agreement. "Hey there, Bumble Bree," Toby said, patting the bed
beside him. "Come here and give me a cuddle."

Bree sat up on her knees beside Toby,
leaning over to put both of her hands either side of his face. She
moved her fingers over the stubble on his cheeks, giggling. "You're
all scratchy!"

"I haven't shaved." He watched her face, so
tiny and cute, her hands still moving over his cheeks. "Have you
been a good girl for Grandma?"

Bree nodded, her face turning serious. "I
thought you were dead!"

Toby felt his breath catch, a corresponding
pain in his chest, and he reached out to her, pulling her down into
his good side, his arm trapping her against his body. "I'm really
sorry you thought that Bumble. I'm here though, and hopefully I can
come home in a few weeks." He had no idea if he was going to be
able to come home in a few weeks or a few months, but it seemed
important to try and soothe her with a timeline, albeit however
evasive it was.

"Daddy!" She twisted to look up at him.
"Where's your leg gone? There's only half of it there!"

Toby smiled thinly down at her. "It got
badly hurt, so the doctor cut it off here in the hospital so I
could get better. They're going to give me a new one. A mechanical
one, so I'll still be able to walk around like I used to."

Bree looked down at the stump for a few
moments, considering his response. Then she looked back up at him,
her eyes wide. "Like a robot leg? Cool!"

Toby cracked a grin at her. "Yeah, I guess
so. Where's your brother?" He did not think Ashley was going to be
all that pleased when he found out Bree had been allowed to visit
without him.

She rolled her eyes. "Fishing with
Jake!"

Toby nodded, glancing over at Charlotte, who
seemed to read his mind, saying immediately, "I'll bring him in
this evening when he gets back from fishing."

Toby nodded at that, returning his attention
back to Bree. His mini Charlotte. She was snuggled down into his
side, her body warm against his, her long hair smelling like
flowers. "You look very pretty today," he remarked, knowing she
would have been waiting for him to notice her finery. "I love that
crown."

"It's a tiara, Daddy! But thank you!" She
rose up onto her knees again, her hands coming to rest either side
of his face once more. She leant as close as she knew was just
right, and then fluttered her eyelashes across one side of his
cheek, over his nose, and then across his cheek on the other side
of his face. Toby swallowed deeply, hooking her around the waist so
that he could pull her tightly against him. He buried his face into
her hair, closing his eyes, willing away the tears before she had a
chance to see them. It was one thing to cry in front of Charlotte.
But to Bree, he was a hero; and heroes did not cry.