I sighed as I hung up the phone, not giving two shits that I was a lovestruck fool. Pushing my softer side to the back recesses of my mind, I squared my shoulders and stepped out of the shadows. “You can quit hiding, Kendricks. I know you’re just around the corner. Let’s go. Time’s wasting.”
“Nixon’s getting a bit hangry so I need to get off the phone. I love you,” I heard Zach tell Griffin.
Maybe my tone was a bit gruff, but it wasn’t because I was pissed off. My emotions were a pendulum swinging wildly out of control and I didn’t know how to deal. For now, the best solution was to forget about everything going on in my own life and try to help Zach fix his before he wound up pushing Griffin away because he couldn’t figure out how to balance his job and his personal life. That’d at least give me something to do other than book the plane ticket Lincoln didn’t want me to buy.
20
Lincoln
The daysand nights blurred together. Christmas came and went with nothing more than empty holiday greetings from the nurses as they came in to check Patrick’s vitals. It’d been five days and there was still no sign of improvement.
I’d wound up kicking Hunter out Sunday night because he had a busy week of practice before this weekend’s bowl game. In fact, I’d be leaving as soon as Angie got back to the room so I could join the other parents at the send-off celebration. Despite the fact Hunter had been obsessed with helping his team make it to a bowl game, he’d been hinting all weekend that he wasn’t sure he should go.
Just as I had with Nixon, I’d reminded him that Patrick wouldn’t want him missing out on this opportunity just to sit in a sterile hospital room listening to the sounds of Patrick’s assisted breathing.
I must’ve dozed off, because I startled at the sound of the morning nurse’s shoes squeaking with every step. I stood and backed away, giving her room to do what she needed. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your way.”
“You’re fine,” she assured me. Her voice was soft and had a melodic lilt to it. “You’re a good friend, sitting up here with the family.”
“It’s no big deal. He’d do the same for me.” My heart ached because I knew it was the truth. Patrick was one of the kindest, most loyal friends a person could ask for.
It hit me like a freight train that I might never again hear him laugh at the punchline to one of his horrible jokes. I’d never be able to admit to him that Nixon wasn’t just a passing fling. Skirting around that truth was one of my biggest regrets when it came to my friendship with Patrick over the past few months. I’d avoided telling him I couldn’t see my life without Nixon in it because I didn’t want to catch him on a bad day and have him launch into a tirade about me deciding to be gay.
For the first time since I’d followed the ambulance to the hospital last Friday, I let myself break down. There was no one here I needed to be strong for, and I was tired. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about everything Patrick and I had done together.
I reached out to squeeze Patrick’s fingers, silently pleading for him to be okay. To open his eyes and ask what all the fuss was about. No matter what I’d said to Nixon about how Patrick’s death would be a blessing, I couldn’t be so selfless now that we were alone in his hospital room.
“Talk to him,” the nurse whispered, closer than I expected her to be. When I looked over my shoulder at her, she offered me a kind smile and placed her hand on my forearm. “Whatever you’re worried that you never got to say to him, tell him now.”
“Isn’t that like giving up?” I asked. Spilling my thoughts now felt like conceding that I’d never get to sit with Patrick again, bullshitting over beers while we stuffed ourselves on crap food.
“Honey, I’ve been doing this too many years to look at it that way. If he wakes up, you get to tell him again. And maybe whatever you’ve been keeping from him won’t be as scary then if you’ve already said it out loud once.” That made sense. I hadn’t wanted to tell Patrick I was finally happy and in love, even though I knew he’d be supportive. Any vitriol would be the disease eating away at his mind, not his true feelings. “And God forbid he doesn’t wake up…well, at least then you know you said your piece before he went.”
“What good will that do?” My shoulders slumped and I let my head fall forward.
“There’s been research that shows coma patients can hear you,” she told me as she shuffled around to the other side of the bed. “Like I said, I’ve been doing this a long time. That means I’ve seen miracles happen. Now, I’m not foolish enough to promise you’ll get one, but wouldn’t you rather take that chance than wonder if you could’ve done more?”
The clock was running down on Patrick’s life and a miracle was the only thing that’d bring him back. Two more days, that’s all he had left to fight before the doctors followed his advance directive and stopped all life-saving measures.
Angie and I were the only ones who knew about Patrick writing out his wishes should anything like this occur. We’d tell Tanner tonight, once Hunter was on the bus to Texas.
Maybe it made me a horrible parent, but if he’d known ahead of time, there was no way he’d have gone to that game. He’d have stayed with us, counting Patrick’s respirations, watching for any sign the doctors were wrong about his lack of brain activity. I’d done what I felt was right by my son, and I’d stand by that decision no matter how much it killed me.
The nurse gave my shoulder one final squeeze on her way out of the room. The legs of the chair screeched as I pulled it closer to Patrick’s bed.
“Man, I really hate you right now,” I told him, hoping Patrick would appreciate the honesty if there was any truth to what the nurse said about him being able to hear, though I knew he couldn’t since the doctors insisted there was no brain activity. “You weren’t supposed to go like this, especially not now. There’s never a good time to die, but especially not at Christmas. Why didn’t you tell one of us about your appointment? I’d have driven you there. Hell, I’d have let you take the car as long as you’d told me when you started to feel off.
“I suppose it’s not going to do much for me to sit here and tell you all the ways you screwed up. Too late for that.” I let out a weary huff, pinching the bridge of my nose to stave off a fresh stream of tears. “The nurse told me to talk to you. She’s damn good at her job, realized there was something I hadn’t said that I wish there’d been time for, and she was right. When I told you I’d been spending time with Nixon, that wasn’t quite right. I mean, it was the truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth. I love him, Patrick. I know you didn’t understand why Isabella and I got divorced, but this is why. I wanted this. Needed to feel the way I do when I’m with him. I didn’t say that before because I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear it, but that’s all of it. It wasn’t fair to you or to Nixon to hold it back.”
“He wouldn’t blame you, sweetie.” This time it was Angie placing her hands on my shoulders. She leaned forward and kissed the top of my head. Some people thought it was improper for her to do, but we both knew her kissing my cheek or the top of my head was completely platonic. “I’ll love that man until the day I die, but you made the right call not saying anything to him sooner. Lately, he hasn’t been the Patrick I fell in love with and married. He was always so angry about everything. I’d like to think he’d understand why you couldn’t tell him. And for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you. Now, go get your kid on that bus. Tell him we’ll be watching the game from here and we’re proud of him.”
Those damn tears came back, blurring my vision as I realized she was only partly right. There was no doubt they’d watch every play of the game, but it would most likely be at their house, not in the hospital room. I wondered how long Hunter would hate me when he realized we’d known the outcome and kept it from him.
Angie pulled me into a surprisingly strong hug from someone her size. “I know you hate this, but right now, we all have to do what we think Patrick would want. He wouldn’t want that boy messing up his chances at the draft to stay here with us. If anything, he’d want Hunter to go out on that field and have the game of his life in honor of his Uncle Patrick. So you tell him that. Tell him to play for Patrick on Saturday.”
Angie’s voice broke as she started sobbing. It seemed both of us were losing the ability to remain stoic the closer it got to when the doctors would tell us it was time. I held her close, rubbing my hand up and down her back as she cried into my shoulder. Eventually, her tears subsided and she pushed away, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
“I’ll call you once the team takes off,” I promised her. And later, I’d be back with dinner as had become our routine. I’d stopped asking what she wanted because her answer was always nothing, but she’d at least pick at whatever I put in front of her. “And I’m going to call Nixon and tell him to fly down when he can. He offered last Friday, but I told him not to bother until we knew what was going to happen.”
