“Gia,” Marin says, raising her voice to grab her attention. At that specific pitch, her voice sounds exactly like Brent’s. “This is not the place for you to speak. Dr. Ford is very busy.”
“It’s fine.” David smiles to ease the sting of Marin’s rebuke. “Your question is very important.” He is kind to Gia though he does not have to be. “As doctors, we need to know exactly how long the body will survive. It will help us minimize the amount of suffering.”
“He will be in pain?” Ranee steps forward, demanding David’s attention. She has stayed primarily in the background, listening rather than speaking.
It has always been their mother’s way to observe instead of lead. They say a child chooses one parent as a model to replicate. Marin made the decision as a young girl that it would not be Ranee. It wasn’t conscious or a process she gave much thought to. In fact, if asked now she would struggle to pinpoint the exact moment. But it was very simple really. Given the choice between strong and weak, it seemed obvious to her to choose strength, no matter what form it came in.
“He will feel the hunger, the loss of breath?” Ranee asks.
“We would do everything in our power to make sure he doesn’t. I promise you that.” David takes her hand and squeezes it once. Marin catches the interplay.
Ranee nods, turning to Brent’s still body in the hospital bed. After his arrival at the hospital via ambulance, they dressed him in a gown—one he would surely hate. Always meticulous with his clothes—every shirt pressed and his pants crease free—he demanded his children be the same.
“He does not like to suffer.” Ranee wraps her arms around her small frame.
No, Marin agrees, he does not like to suffer.
Marin’s breaths become shallow, suddenly harder to draw than moments before. The memories from childhood swim together, as her fingers begin to tingle, each one starting to go numb. Everyone’s voices are far away, though they stand right next to her. She shakes her head, trying to clear the cobwebs that suddenly fill it. Closing her eyes, she counts to ten quietly, hoping the exercise will lead her back to normality. When she reopens them, she sees no one has noticed her distress. They’re still talking among themselves, their attention on Brent. Lowering her head, she stares at her shoes. The ground beneath her begins to rotate. It is a panic attack, she knows. Though it’s been years since her last one, they are always the same. Her heart rate accelerates as her body shuts down. But she refuses it. She will not succumb to its power.
She pulls out her phone, focusing on the only lifeline she knows. Fifty new messages fill her mailbox. Work demanding her attention is her only reprieve from the father who lies dying. She is grateful for the distraction. “Mummy,” she says. Her breath begins to even out, but her heart still beats as if she ran a marathon. Almost an hour has passed since she entered the hospital room. Three conference calls have been scheduled since her arrival. Additional homework she created for Gia waits in the car. Math problems guaranteed to keep her in honors next year. “We need to leave. It is late.” She motions for Gia and Raj to follow her out.
“We have just arrived.” Ranee grasps Gia’s hand, pulling her in close. “Let us all stay a bit longer.”
“Marin, it is still early.” Raj has not risen from his seat. He assures Ranee with a smile. “We will sit a while longer, Mummy.”
“No, we will not.” Marin swallows a yell. Everyone starts to stare at her but their faces are unclear. Anger at their defiance mixes with the past and creeps into her being. “Raj, I envy your free time, but I don’t have the same luxury. I have a lot of work to do and Gia has math problems waiting.”
“It’s Saturday,” Gia says. She looks to Ranee for support. “Sonya masi just came,” she says, giving Sonya the traditional name for a mother’s sister. “I want to hear more stories.”