He struggles to respond. He’s panting and I think it’s because he’s flustered and wants to shout back but I’m wrong. The pants turn to gasps, like he can’t breathe, before his eyes begin to roll back into his head and the machines he’s hooked up to begin blaring out a litany of beeps and sirens.
Teams of nurses descend on the room in a rush, lowering his headrest and frantically moving over him. I’m rooted to the spot. Should I stay or go? I’m not sure what’s happening but it doesn’t seem good. I can’t help the morbid thoughts invading my brain what if this is it? What if he’s about to die right now? Suddenly I’m beyond angry. How dare he say those things to me and then die. I’m not finished. I need to talk. He’s had his turn and it’s not fair; I want mine.
“Sorry Mr. Jamison, but I need you to leave,” a nurse says, ushering me out of the room as more medical staff flood the small space around him. I don’t need to be asked twice. I practically run out of the room, but instead of finding Mom I sprint down the corridors and make my way out of this torturous place. I burst through the main doors and out into the street before realizing that it’s not the hospital I need to escape, or even my father—it’s my own mind.
THE LINE IS silent as I wait for him to speak. I can hear him breathing faintly on the other end, and my heart is in my throat as I anticipate what he’s calling about. I’ve left Brie in my room and come into my mom’s bedroom to take Ethan’s call. The moment I hit the accept button and he didn’t say anything I knew this needed to be a private conversation.
“I shouldn’t have called you,” he finally murmurs into the receiver and I can barely decipher his voice from the faint sound of the traffic behind him.
“Baby, you can always call me. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I suppose, yeah…no, I’m outside the hospital. Something is going on with my dad. We were talking, well, he was talking, but then he started having trouble breathing, and the staff tossed me out of the room to work on him. I didn’t mean to call and upset you or anything; I just needed to hear your voice.”
His voice sounds so lost and I clutch at my chest; it aches so badly for him and I wish I were there to comfort him in person.
“I’m so sorry, Ethan, that’s terrible. I’m sure the doctors will be doing everything that they can. Did you get to speak with him for long?”
“Only enough time for him to tell me that he’s sorry he resents me but it’s kind of my fault. Oh, and he loves me!”
Disdain is dripping thickly from his voice and I actually feel my jaw gape.
“What? How is it your fault that he dislikes you? Oh my gosh, what an ass. I could kill him!”
The words escape me before I can register what I’ve just said. I’m a moron. Why can’t I exercise my filter like an ordinary person? Who tells their boyfriend that they could kill his dad, when he’s in a hospital, possibly dying!
He lets out a sarcastic huff. “I remind him of my real mom, that’s why he’s an asshole with me. Apparently vying for his attention when I was younger just pissed him off even more. He wanted to ignore me, and I never let him.”
Wow. How do I even respond to that and attempt to lift his spirits?
“He said that?”
“More or less. He had just enough time to tell me that he still loved me though, before he lost consciousness. I know this is bad, Princess, but I’m mad as hell he said that and it might be the last thing he gets to say to me. He has no right.”
Brie surges into the room wearing my ‘Mathlete’ t-shirt; it’s knotted at the front, underneath her boobs, displaying her whole midsection.
“This is cute, can I borrow it?” She twirls and then stops in front of Mom’s mirrored closet before she notices me trying to kill her with my eyes in the reflection.
“What?” she mouths innocently.
“Sorry, Ethan one second,” I tell him before hugging my cell to my chest so he can’t hear.
“Brie I’m on the phone!” I glare, and she stands there unmoving. “And why are you wearing my clothes?”
“It looks cute though, right? So can I borrow it?”
“Ugh…fine, yes you can borrow the shirt. Now can you please wait in my room for me? This is kind of an important call.”
“Wow, someone’s grouchy today. Missing your boy toy already?” she sings as she walks out of the room like she’s strutting down the runway for a fashion show.
“Ethan, you still there?”
“Yeah, still here. Listen, I need to go. I’ll text you later,” he says sounding distracted, or maybe annoyed. Here he is spilling his heart to me and I make him hold while Brie talks about shirts.
“I’m sorry for the interruption. Brie’s here and she just burst in. I’ve gotten rid of her now. We can carry on—”
“No, it’s fine, honestly. I need to go anyway.”
“Oh, um, yeah okay then. It doesn’t matter what time it is; I’ll be here. In case you want to call and talk some more. I love you.”