I could’ve sworn I saw my father’s lips downturn at the mere mention of ‘help.’
“I appreciate it, Doctor Weatherford. Thank you so much.”
He patted my shoulder. “The next twenty-four hours are critical. But, if we have no hiccups between now and then, we can move him to a regular room.”
I looked up at the doctor. “He feels so cold. Is there anything we can do about that?”
He nodded. “I’ll see about getting him a heated blanket.”
“I appreciate it, thank you.”
As the doctor vacated the room, I stood up and smoothed my father’s wispy hair back. As I gazed down into his face, trying hard not to cry against his skin, fear washed over me. This was straight from my nightmares—the worst-case scenario brought to life. I sat down and threaded my fingers with my father’s hand, allowing my cheek to rest against his hospital bed.
“We’ll do this just like we always do,” I whispered through my tears.
I need to put in my sixty days at my apartment complex.
So many things started rushing through my mind. I’d have to quit my job working for Bart so I could go back to taking care of my father. I’d have to prepare my childhood bedroom to be lived in, which meant removing the twin-size bed in there to make room for the queen-size bed I now owned. I’d have to get the girls to help me move my clothes and stuff.
I’d also have to shelve my personal life again.
Why is it always us?
Every time it seemed like my life was finally getting back on track, something had to come around and take me out at the knees. I felt selfish for being so upset while my father’s half-dead body was there in an ICU bed, but I couldn't help myself. All my life, I’d been dedicated to helping others, assisting them in their time of need, and sparing them from the negative. Whether it was turning down boys I liked just so they wouldn’t have to meet my father, or whether it was comforting my father in his time of sadness when my mother had died.
It always seemed to be “world first, Luna second.” And I couldn’t see straight through my tears anymore.
How did everything go so wrong so quickly?
All I wanted was a decent shot at life like my best friends. All I wanted was one chance to carve out a life for myself that wasn’t dependent on the well-being of others around me. All I wanted was one shred of beauty in my life that wasn’t there for any other reason other than my own damn happiness.
But, as I sat there with my father’s almost-lifeless hand in mine, I stuffed down the selfish feelings. I stuffed down the emotions. I stuffed down the tears and the pain and the inevitable issues I’d have to face.
And I turned my attention to what I could do to help my father in any way possible.
21
Bart
I burst through the hospital doors. “Where are they?” I heard a nurse sigh heavily from the front desk, and I strode up to her.
“Name, please?” she asked.
I planted my hands onto the fake wood of the desk. “Michael and Luna Faircloth. What room are they in?”
The apathetic nurse started typing away at her computer before her phone started ringing. And when she reached for it, I picked up the phone and dropped it back into the receiver.
“Room number. Now,” I commanded.
She scoffed. “I see the two of you are alike.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
The woman pointed. “ICU, Room 4. Doctor Weatherford is the assigned physician on duty right now.”
I nodded. “Thank you for your help.”
“You and everyone else,” she murmured.
I brushed off the need to fire back at her and slammed through the metal double doors. I followed the navy-blue and white signs pointing me toward the ICU block, and when I got to the end of the hallway, I took a sharp turn to my left. I broke out into a jog, following the burnt orange lines as I weaved my way through the corridors of the hospital.
And after getting turned around twice, I found myself in front of ICU Room 4.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked.
I turned around and found myself eye to eye with a man in a white coat.
“Dr. Weatherford?” I asked.
He nodded toward the door. “Are you here to see Mr. Faircloth?”
I nodded. “And support his daughter, Luna.”
“She’s a strong woman. She’s been by her father’s side since she got here.”
I turned to face the door. “How bad is it? Do you know what happened?”
“Are you family or next of kin?”
“I might as well be. All of us are very close. We’re all Mr. Faircloth and Luna have some days.”
The doctor eyed me carefully before he caved. Almost as if he didn’t feel like fighting anymore.
Guess Luna’s been riding him pretty hard.
The doctor sighed. “I got his test results back about an hour ago. Mr. Faircloth has had a clot-related stroke because of an allergic reaction he’s having to his hip implants.”
I furrowed my brow. “He had those replacements, like, a year ago.”
“Yes, but it’s not uncommon. According to the medical history Miss Faircloth gave me, between his high tolerance for pain and his disdain for doctors, it doesn’t shock me that he’s been battling this for so long. It’s why we highly recommend in-home help as opposed to familial help. There are tests an in-home nurse could have performed that would have caught this reaction before we got to this point.”
I puffed out my cheeks with my sigh. “Am I allowed to go in?”
“Normally, we only allow one person in the room with the patient at a time. But, as long as you stay out of the way of nurses, I’ll allow it this one time.”
I patted his shoulder. “I appreciate it.”
“Do something for me, though.”
“Anything.”
The man leveled his eyes with me. “Luna is already speaking of helping her father in any way she can. Try to communicate to her how imperative it is that an actual, medically-trained professional take care of him. I don’t have the heart to tell her that the lack of medically-trained individuals present is what got her father into this mess.”
I reached for the doorknob. “I know exactly how to do that. Thank you, Doctor.”
He patted my shoulder. “Press the red button on his bed if you need anything. But, come seven-thirty, you’re going to need to find your place in a waiting room. Dr. Shropshire isn’t as forgiving of visitors as I am.”
“Noted. And thank you. Again.”
The doctor walked away, and I slowly inched the door open. I tried to move as silently as possible, especially considering the fact that I heard soft snores already coming from the room. I slipped inside and cracked open the door just in case anyone needed to get in. And as I silently walked over to a hunched-over Luna with her cheek against the hospital bed mattress, I pulled up a chair to sit beside her.
Her head whipped up. “Doctor?” she asked groggily.
I chuckled. “Never had a passion for getting an MD.”
She slowly looked over at me. “Bart?”
I smiled softly. “How are you holding up?”
Almost as if the action answered my question, she flung herself into my arms. I held her closely, scooping her into my arms and placing her in my lap. I felt her sobbing against the crook of my neck as I wrapped my arms around her, trying to blanket her from the cruel, harsh world that seemed to keep beating her and her father down.