#heartmatch Page 5
“I think so.” Samantha swiped at her face as tears trickled down her cheeks.
Elizabeth nodded and put her stethoscope eartips in her ears then placed the cold metal against her chest. After listening, she laid her hand on Samantha’s arm. “I think you’re missing your dad. To be safe, try not to talk too much and keep that mask on. I’ll be at the nurse’s desk. When I come back I’ll recheck your vitals.”
Elizabeth put the call button in her hand.
“Press this if your pain gets worse. I’ll be right outside.”
###
Jason showered. He took the Fentanyl pill bottle out of hiding and tossed the container into his desk. He left his room and went through the kitchen to open the back door for Sonic. Gray clouds hung over the mountains.
A gust of freezing air hit his bare chest. He clutched the lapels of his robe closed as he waited for his dog to circle around and do his business. Grandma Rosie came through the back gate. Jason waved and opened the door wider. Sonic couldn’t get through the opening fast enough and grandma scooted inside right behind the dog.
Grandma Rosie’s cold hands squeezed Jason’s cheeks together, making his lips pucker up, ready for the wet kiss she always gave him. Her close-cropped frizzy hair had turned gray after Grandpa died. Although outwardly her zest for life had never waned, Jason knew she hid an inner sadness. Was it because of grandpa, or because his dad had abandoned them? She scanned the kitchen.
“You’re such a big help to your mom.” Her chestnut-colored eyes glistened. “Your dad never lifted a finger to help me.”
“That’s because you spoiled him, grandma.”
She playfully smacked his behind.
“You’re naked under there. Get some clothes on while I fix you something to eat.”
“I’ve got boxers on.” Jason contemplated his next words. “Grandma? Could I talk to you about mom?”
“Sure Jason. We can chat while I busy myself around the stove. Aren’t you freezing? Run to your bedroom and put on that flannel shirt I got you and something to cover your legs. That’ll warm you up.”
“Back in five.”
Jason heard the Skype ring as he strode down the hallway. He raced into his room and closed the door.
Sam. Yep. It’s Sam alright.
He lowered the volume and adjusted the video.
“Hey, you barely caught me,” he said.
She had a frail look about her. The mask rested below her chin.
“Just checking in.” She put a hand to her chest.
“You okay today?”
“I have bad days.” She slid on the mask. “And I have worse days.”
“You’re waiting for a transplant, aren’t you?”
A slight nod of her head.
“Does talking hurt you?”
Her gaze lifted. Sam’s eyes were the color of turquoise. Her complexion, chalk white. He watched her take some breaths. His mom had taught him how to take a pulse. He counted the heaves of her chest as he kept an eye on the second hand of his watch. “No fever.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Just talkin to myself. Hey Sam. If—”
She waggled a finger at him and put her palm into the stop position.
“You don’t like the nickname Sam?”
“No,” she mouthed.
“What about Princess Sam?”
Finger wagged, although she smiled under the mask.
“Anyway, I can talk for you today.” He inhaled deeply and let his breath out slowly. Shake your head if you don’t want to hear me out. Okay?”
She nodded.
“Let’s see. How about I tell you something about me?”
She dipped her head a bit.
Maybe that’s a yes.
“Well, I’m single. Never cared much for girls,” he lifted his gaze, “until now.”
Shit. Why’d I say that?
Samantha grinned. He loved her smile.
“I love skate-boarding, my killer games on the computer, and smoking weed.” He stared waiting for her reaction.
She shrugged.
“I have a dog named Sonic.” He turned indicating the bed and moved his computer around, so Samantha could see Sonic. “I rescued him about five years ago.”
He looked at the ceiling trying to think of more information to give her.
“Your parents?”
“I come from a bi-racial family.” He put a finger on his chin.
“Siblings?” Samantha asked.
“I had a younger brother. He died a long time ago. Choked to death. That’s why my mom’s so protective.”
“Your dad?”
“My dad left my mom and me last year after I graduated.”
“Oh,” her mouth formed a perfect circle.
“It fricking sucks not having him around.” His gaze caught and held Samantha’s. “Boring?”
“No.” Samantha rested her head on her pillow.
“My dad wants me to go to his wedding in California. If I go, my mom would lose it.” He lowered his glance, embarrassed with the details he had never told anyone before.
She swiped at a tear.
“Hey, is that for me?”
She nodded. “I don’t know what I’d do if my dad weren’t around.” She laid a hand on her chest again. “I feel the pain here,” her hand moved to her heart area, “when he’s gone. And I shouldn’t be stressed.” She sniffed. “It’s not good for the remainder of my heart.” She went on. “Tell me about your mom.”
“My mom’s not doing so well with that fricking wedding happening in three days. My parents are divorced and her broken—” he caught himself before he said the word heart. “She thinks he’ll come back.”
His grandma knocked on the door.
“Can we talk later, Sam?”
She frowned.
“Oops. I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll think of something else to call you.”
Jason disconnected and closed the lid.
“Coming,” he hollered.
###
A waldorf salad, a baked potato swathed in butter, green beans, and his favorite—a grilled steak, awaited him at the kitchen table.
“Aren’t you eating, grandma?” Jason sat behind the meal.
“That’s mine. Yours is a bowl of oatmeal.” She hurried to the stovetop and got a steaming china dish. She couldn’t hold in her chuckles as she plopped down beside him.
He cut into the medium rare piece of meat as she spooned the cereal.
His grandma watched him closely. “The news says it’s going to snow real bad. Did you see those clouds out there?” She pointed.
Jason nodded.
His grandma laughed. “Oh, I know how that old saying goes. ‘Talk at the table, sing in bed and the goblins will git ya while you sleep.”’
Jason grinned. “That’s not how that rhyme goes.” He smiled before he stuck another piece of steak into his mouth.
After the meal, his grandma got up and started clearing the plates.
Jason touched her arm. “I’ll get those later. Sit down and listen to me.” After one of her brows arched he uttered, “please.”
She sat.
“Mom’s guzzling alcohol and she’s doing most of her drinking on her drive home from work.”
“I’ve known about your mom’s drinking for quite a while, Jason.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“For the same reason you haven’t. Her heart’s shattered. How can I tell her to put away her security blanket?”
“But she’s drinking and driving, grandma. She’ll kill herself someday.”
“Or someone else,” his grandma agreed. “It’s your dad’s fault.” Grandma slammed the flat of her hand on the table. Her forehead wrinkled and her pupils contracted into pinpoint holes in her anger. “Blast it to high heaven.”
“Don’t get mad at me.”
“No, sweetheart.” She rested a hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m not angry at you. I don’t claim your dad anymore. He did
a God-awful thing when he left your mom after twenty-some years. You,” she squinted. “Well, you can manage on your own, though I’m sure your mom will never be able to start over like he’s doing.”
“I sure don’t want to see him any time soon.”
Unless he comes alone like Darla promised.
Grandma stared at him briefly before continuing. “I’ve cursed, fretted, and cried about your dad leaving. Matthew told me on the phone he’s moving on. Nothing more I can do about him.”
Jason inhaled deeply. His jaw clenched before he released the air. “What can I do?”
“Should we make an anonymous call to her supervisor at the hospital?”
He shook his head. “That’s not the answer.”
“I could talk to her.”
“Grandma, that won’t work. She’s closed herself off, especially after dad told her he’s getting married.”
“Her name’s Darla, right?”
“Yep.”
“What if your dad comes back here alone and talks to her?”
“That’s something I’m—”
Grandma interrupted. “I could call this Darla woman and tell her to stay away from him.”
Jason moved his chair away from the table and stood. “I spoke to her. Alone. She didn’t seem too bad.”
“You’re talking to your dad’s mistress?”
“Mom and dad have some issues to settle. I’m just trying to get dad back here by himself. Darla promised to ask him for me.”
“You don’t want to call your dad and ask him yourself?”
Jason grit his teeth. “Not yet. I’m still pissed about everything’s he’s done to mom.”
“And you’ve suffered too. You hardly ever go out anymore.”
“What if dad returns and mom thinks he’s come back to make up to her?”
“My hope is that he’ll do just that. He’ll soon tire of that youngin,” his grandma concluded. She squeezed his hand. “You’re such an intelligent young lad. I know you’ll figure everything out to save your mom.” Grandma got teary-eyed. “I’m glad you don’t do drugs, watch—”
“Grandma. Don’t go there. Not today anyway.” He strode across the kitchen. “Back to my computer.”
“I’ll tidy up in here. Your mom’s due home shortly and I want to be out of here before she gets back.”
“Scared?” He grinned.
“No. I’d get mad and tell her I know she’s tipping the bottle.” Her gaze engulfed his. “Can’t you level with her?”
Jason shook his head and grew solemn. “I sure miss grandpa. He would’ve kept dad walking a straight line.”
“Don’t worry. Grandpa’s got his eye on things.”
Back in his room, Jason opened the desk drawer and took out the prescription bottle. He rolled the container around in the palms of both hands. The pills clicked against the plastic.
“What if something happened to me? Would dad rush back?”
So, if Darla’s plan didn’t work, he had this option to ponder.
He glanced upwards.
Does grandma really believe that grandpa’s watching over us?
Jason opened his game.
I want blood.
This time, Jason turned up the action. He cut his dad out of the perimeter and invented other characters. They ran around corners, over bridges, down dark alleyways trying to get away from him, the shooter. Jason stalked them for hours and shot carefully, wounding them.
After a while, he tracked down and maimed characters and this time, aimed for the kill. The blood he thirsted for became a fulfillment. Like a shot of adrenaline that made him high.
His anger only marginally satisfied, he finished up his game and then started another, ramping up the action even more. He’d get what that bastard had done out of his head one way or another.
###
Hours later the front door slammed. “Mom,” he mouthed and jumped to his feet. He’d lost track of time.
He put the pill bottle deep into his pocket and strode out of his room. They bumped into each other at the end of the hallway. She screeched, and he cursed.
“You scared me,” his mom said as she slipped a crinkled bag into her daypack.
Jason knew what brown paper bags held. “And you stepped on my foot.”
“It’s winter. Wear slippers.”
“You’re supposed to text when you leave work.”
“I need a shower. Some heavy stuff going on at work.”
She took two steps before he gripped her arm. His mom glanced at his hand before she looked straight into his eyes.
“Just want to make your load lighter.” Jason straightened his stance, let go of his mom’s arm, and grasped the shoulder strap.
“What are you doing? I need to study some documents.”
“While you’re under the shower’s hot spray?” Jason taunted.
Her eyes closed to slits. “Has grandma been talking to you?”
“No. Actually mom, I’ve been talkin’ to her.”
His mom began to shake. “You’re chatting with grandma behind my back?” Her lip quivered as tears welled. “I’m just trying to make it, Jase and I can’t without this.” She pointed to the bag as tears coursed down her face. “So now you know. It’s a little something that helps me forget.”
“I’ve known for some time, mom.”
“Okay. So, give me the bag and I’ll go do what I do best.”
“You can keep whatever’s in here but do your drinking here at home. Not on the road.”
The tears stopped. “Well,” she huffed. “Those words didn’t come from your mouth. Who told you to say that to me?”
“No one tells me what to say. I just know what I’ve seen. I worry about your drivin’ and drinkin’. What if you have an accident and die?”
His mom stared at him.
“That could happen, you know.”
Her gaze was emotionless. “I can stop any time I want. After all, it’s not like I’m an alcoholic.”
“You don’t eat right and you drink yourself to sleep. You need to get some help.”
“No one notices. I just sip when I’m on break and—”
“Jeez.” Jason threw his arms up in the air. “While you’re working? Is that why you were transferred out of the ER? Someone’s keeping an eye on you,” he stated emphatically.
A feeble smile crossed her lips. “I’ve never bungled anything at work. I’m praised for the way I take care of my patients. The transfer came along with a raise. And now,” she took in a trembling breath, “now I can finally pay the mortgage without running short every month.”
“We don’t have to live here, mom. We can move to an apartment. I’ll find a job to help out with the expenses.”
Her heart-wrenching stare fixated on something behind him. Jason turned.
He gasped. “Why’d you put that up?”
She shrugged and began to cry. “It feels like I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved.”
“You have me. And Grandma Rosie. We’ll never leave you.”
Her eyes became expressionless. “Darin had just turned five. I knew he shouldn’t play and eat a hard candy at the same time. I turned my back to pick up toys and when I couldn’t find him—”
She’d retreated to the past. Jason knew this story and the real reason his mom had become a nurse.
“Mom, accidents happen,” Jason stated.
“He hid under the bed, on his back, and the candy lodged in his throat. I didn’t know what to do when I found him.” She buried her face in her hands and cried. “He had turned blue.”
“Mom, please.”
“Everything’s my fault,” she whispered.
To Jason, she seemed shattered. More so than he’d ever seen her before. He tried to embrace her and when that didn’t work, he grasped her hand. She shook free and fled to the solitude of her room, choosing a bottle of alcohol over his comfort.
He returned to the photo on the wall, stroked his brother’s face with the tips of
his fingers, and smiled. Darin sat on dad’s lap and mom, standing behind with Jason, had one arm around him and the other holding little Darin’s hand.
Happier times.
FEBRUARY 12
Sunday
A shiver rippled over Samantha’s skin. A feeling of panic and helplessness overwhelmed her after awakening from a nightmare that still lay at the edge of her memory. Crowds of people milling around in a vapor. Her dad calling out her name and extending his hand for help. Her inability to reach him from the constraints of her wheelchair.
She glanced around her room as near total darkness surrounded her. The early morning din in the hallway as nurses prepared to leave their night shifts eased her mind. Glass containers clinked on moveable trays rolling down the hallway. The low hum of a vacuum came from somewhere in the distance and the smell of pancakes wafted through the air.
I’m not alone.
She reached for her phone. She’d left the cell charging against Nurse Elizabeth’s advice. “No electronic devices near your bed.” And Elizabeth gave that same constant reminder every evening, before tuck-in time. The evening before, after a call to her dad, she’d hidden her cell under the pillow.
She pushed contacts and then favorites to bring up her dad’s name. She pressed Facetime.
Daddy, please answer. I need to see you.
“Hey there precious.”
Shoot, he’s still in bed. I forgot Seattle time. An hour behind.
“Everything okay?” He yawned and scrubbed his head.
“I had a bad dream, daddy.”
“About me?” He pinched his cheek then grinned at her. “See Sammy, I’m fine.”
“Want me to call you back after you get up?”
“Absolutely not.” She watched as he pulled the covers up to his chin and snuggled in, holding the phone in front of him. “Tell me about your dream.”
“I couldn’t get out of my wheelchair and—”
“Sweetheart, look me in the eye.” His phone narrowed in to expose one sea-green eye then her dad winked. “I’ll be with you Tuesday. Relax. Nothing’s going to happen to me.” He moved his cell back to arm’s length.
Don’t cry.
Samantha inhaled and released her breath slowly. “I’m scared, daddy.”
“I know you are my precious. I would be too if I were in that same hospital.”
Samantha lifted her mask off. A sob caught in her throat.