Must Love Flowers, page 20
“Of course.”
“Have I failed you as a mother?” She closed her eyes, fearing his response, the guilt eating at her.
He seemed to weigh his words as if he was afraid of hurting her feelings. “No way. I always knew I could depend on you. You’ve been a good mom,” he added, as though it was important that she know that. “And Dad was a good father.”
“You mean I was a good mother in the past,” she added, her words more breath than sound, afraid that in her grief she had abandoned her children.
“You were always there when it mattered most. Nick and I aren’t kids any longer. We’re adults, and not once did I ever feel you’d failed us. I can’t speak for Nick, but I think he’d agree. If anyone failed, it was the two of us. You were so deeply depressed, and we were at a loss on how best to help you. Forgive me for that, Mom. I should have made a bigger effort to come see you, to be there for you.”
“It’s all worked out for the best,” she whispered. “A friend recently reminded me that everything happens in its own time, and I shouldn’t question having waited as long as I did to get the help I needed. You don’t owe me an apology, Steve.”
Steve released a sigh. “I guess it’s just the mood I’m in lately.”
This was the opening Joan had been waiting for. “What’s going on, Steve, and please credit me with some intelligence? For the longest time I’ve felt there’s something troubling you, and my guess is it has to do with Zoe.”
“Mom, please. It’s nothing. I’m busy. I carry a lot of responsibility and it wears on me. You wouldn’t believe how many meetings I attend in a week or problems that arise at the warehouse that I need to fix. The demands on my time are constant.”
Joan wasn’t willing to listen to excuses. “Why do you change the subject every time I bring up Zoe’s name?”
The question fell like a nuclear bomb blast between them.
Complete silence.
“My relationship with Zoe is off-limits,” he snapped, after an awkward moment.
Joan had never met his girlfriend. It was rare for Steve to mention his relationships, so when he told her about Zoe, Joan knew she meant a great deal to him.
“I assumed the two of you were serious,” she said, ignoring his warning.
“Mom,” he said, as if upset that she was venturing into unwelcome territory.
“Why it is that every time I bring up her name, you change the subject?”
“One would think you’d take the hint!”
“Recently you said you two were on and off. What does that mean?”
“Mom,” he said and groaned. “Leave it alone.”
“I can’t, because I want to know what’s happening with you. I don’t want our relationship to be surface level. I want you to share your thoughts and concerns with me, be open and honest.”
“Fine, you want me to be open. You first! What’s with you and this landscaper?”
The question came at her out of the blue. “Phil? Nothing. He’s in the same grief counseling group I am. I barely know him.”
“Are you dating anyone?”
“No.” She laughed at the absurdity of even thinking along those lines. “Why would you even ask?” She knew the answer as soon as the words left her mouth. Nick must have mentioned him. “Rest assured, Phil is a friend, nothing more.”
Steve scoffed. “Nick said the two of you were out late one night.”
Joan found this highly amusing. “Some of us go out for coffee after each session. Phil was there, and so was I. Trust me, there’s nothing happening. I only recently learned he’s divorced.”
“So you’re saying he’s just a friend.”
“Steve,” she said slowly to make her point, “I know what you’re doing quizzing me about my landscaper. You’re diverting the subject away from you and Zoe.”
Her son’s response was weighed down with a heavy sigh. “If you insist on knowing, Zoe and I have parted ways.”
“I’m sorry.” This was what Joan had long suspected.
Another sigh, this one clearly painfilled. “Yeah, me, too.”
“I don’t suppose you want to tell me what it’s about, but I hope you will.” Joan didn’t want to pry too deep. Her wish was that her son would want to explain what’d happened to a promising relationship.
He didn’t hesitate as she assumed he would. “Zoe wants to get married.”
Joan didn’t understand why that would be a problem if they were in love.
“We’ve been dating two years exclusively,” Steve continued, “and all of a sudden she put pressure on me to make a commitment.”
“Do you love her?” Joan asked, although she felt she knew the answer.
“Yeah…I do.”
As she suspected. “Would you be comfortable spending the rest of your life with her?”
“I would,” he said, a bit more convincingly this time.
“Then what’s the problem?” It had to be something more than Steve’s unwillingness to make a commitment.
His voice mellowed as if he had lowered his guard. “Zoe wants a family.”
“And you don’t?”
“I do, just not anytime soon. Maybe in the next seven to ten years. I mean, the time has to be right. You don’t bring a baby into the world unless you have a home with a fenced yard, and a substantial income, and a secure future. It’s the same with getting married.”
“You want a house before you marry?” Joan had a hard time computing the list of what Steve felt was necessary.
“Yes.”
“My goodness, Steve, if your father and I had all those stipulations in place, you and Nick might never have been born.”
“Times were different back then,” he flared.
“Really?”
“Yes, Mom, really,” he insisted.
“And you feel Zoe is being unreasonable to not want to wait until the solar system is aligned with your list of what’s necessary.” She didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but if anyone was being unreasonable, Joan felt it was her son.
“Yes,” he snapped. “I didn’t want to lose her, so I asked her to marry me. I even got her a ring, which was what she wanted. But when I refused to set a date for the wedding, she had a coronary.”
“You mean she got upset?”
“She said she wasn’t willing to wait for five years, which is when I feel I’ll have everything in place to be the husband I want to be. Condemn me for that if you want. It’s the way I think. I’m goal-driven, and having a wife now, or anytime in the near future, doesn’t fit into my plans. I’ll have the right income by then, perhaps sooner, but even that’s no guarantee. I might be named the warehouse manager next year, but that’s only the first step in my five-year career plan.”
Joan didn’t fault Zoe for not wanting to wait that long. If Steve was truly committed, he would marry her.
“She said she didn’t believe I’d be ready in five years,” he mumbled. “She made it seem like I was leading her on, and that my list of reasons to wait was only an excuse to keep her hanging.”
“So it sounds like she gave you an ultimatum?”
“She said if I couldn’t agree to a wedding within a year, we were finished.”
“You didn’t believe her?”
“I…didn’t appreciate the pressure, and I felt she was being unfair about my goals.”
Joan could appreciate how stubborn her son could be when given an ultimatum. “What happened?”
“When I told her I wouldn’t be ready in a year, she gave me back the ring.” It seemed, even now, he had a hard time believing she would walk away.
The shock of it rang in his voice. Shock, disappointment, pain.
“I’m sorry, Steve.”
“Yeah, well, she’s apparently moved on. I saw a post on Facebook with her and some other guy.”
“I bet that stung.”
He snickered. “It sure didn’t take her long to find someone else.”
“Sounds to me like she made her point,” Joan murmured.
“The thing is, if she came back to me today and said she’d changed her mind, I’d laugh and tell her she’s too late.”
“Oh Steve, that’s both stubborn and foolish. We both know that’s your pride talking.”
“Yeah,” he reluctantly agreed. “I miss her. She made everything better. Zoe was the best friend I’ve ever had. I…feel empty without her. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t tell her. She’s smart, and savvy, beautiful, and wise. Nothing feels right without her.”
That sounded like love to Joan. “Then tell her how you feel.”
“I can’t; she won’t listen.”
“Don’t be so sure. You two were together a long time, son. She’s got to be missing you, too. You need to think about what your life will be like without her. Why does marriage terrify you?”
“I…don’t know,” he confessed, sadness leaking into his voice.
“Could it have anything to do with losing your dad?” Joan asked, hoping it wasn’t so.
“I don’t see how it could.”
“Give it some thought.”
“Thanks for pressing me about the issue with Zoe, Mom. I feel better having talked to you. I’ll think about what you said and let you know what I decide.”
“Good. I’m here for you anytime you want to talk, Steve.”
“I know.”
“Let’s connect again soon. Okay?”
“Sure thing.” They were about to end the conversation when the door opened and Maggie came inside, following her shift at Starbucks.
Joan and Steve said their good-byes, and Joan turned her attention to her boarder. “Hope you had a good day.”
“It was long. Our oven broke down and it’s going to be a week before we can get it repaired. Customers weren’t happy.”
Joan had to smile. The horror of having to do without egg bites was too much to bear.
Maggie’s phone chirped and she groaned as she answered. Her eyes immediately grew large as all color drained from her face.
“What is it?” Joan asked as soon as Maggie disconnected.
“That was the hospital. Dad collapsed at the Half Pint and was taken in by ambulance.”
Chapter 27
Maggie rushed into Swedish Hospital, where the ambulance had taken her father, and went straight to the counter. “I’m Maggie Herbert. My father was brought into the ER. Can I see him, please?”
The receptionist told Maggie she’d need to step over to the window marked Security. When asked by the guard, she provided her identification, and was given a name tag and buzzed into the ER. A nurse directed her to the room where her father lay on a gurney.
“Dad,” she cried, as she hurried to his side.
“Maggie.” He half-raised himself up on his elbow, extending his arm to reach for her. When he grabbed hold of her hand, his punishing grip was so hard she nearly yelped in pain.
“I’m here,” she said, stating the obvious. “What happened?”
Her father shook his head. “Don’t know. I wasn’t feeling well, haven’t been for some time now. I was at the Half Pint, and Al was chattering away how he does. The man never shuts up. The next thing I knew some guy was leaning over me, and I was lying flat on the floor with Al looking to the heavens and praying out loud asking God to spare me. Guess he thought I was dying. The paramedic from the fire station said I’d passed out.”
“Oh Dad, you’ve got to take better care of yourself.” This was exactly what Maggie had feared. His drinking had finally caught up with him. None of her pleading had helped, nor had her moving away.
“Maggie,” he whispered. His eyes were full of desperation. “You’ve got to get me out of here.”
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Not yet, we need to find out what’s wrong first.”
He adamantly shook his head, his eyes pleading with her. “Get me out of this place. People die in here.”
Despite herself, Maggie grinned. “Let’s talk to the doctor first.”
“They’re going to kill me. Mark my words, Maggie, they keep me, and I’ll be dead in a week.” His fear was palpable. He sincerely believed all hope would be lost if the hospital decided he needed additional care and didn’t release him right away.
The doctor stepped into the room, a chart in his hand. His gaze was on the paperwork. Her father’s hold on Maggie’s hand tightened even more. She stayed close to the side of the gurney, letting him know she wasn’t leaving him alone.
The physician’s name tag identified him as Dr. Lael. When he looked up, his gaze went from Roy to Maggie and then returned to her father.
“Mr. Herbert, I’m Dr. Lael.”
Maggie’s father glared at the physician. “I can read, you know. That badge has your name on it. Lael. Funny name. Who are your people, anyway? Undertakers?”
“Dad,” Maggie protested. She looked apologetically at the doctor and added, “You’ll have to forgive my father; he’s suspicious of hospitals. I’m Maggie Herbert, his daughter.”
Dr. Lael grinned, clearly amused. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Herbert, but there isn’t a single undertaker in the family.”
Roy Herbert made a scoffing sound, as if he didn’t believe him for a moment.
The physician glanced down at the chart and addressed Maggie. “The blood tests we took show that your father is suffering from liver disease.”
Maggie had suspected that was likely the problem. Her father’s diet consisted mostly of beer, and it’d been that way for years. Dr. Lael went on to give her the medical information that pointed to his conclusion. One look at her father’s jaundiced eyes had already raised her suspicions. Even his complexion looked yellow, and she’d noticed several bruises on his arms as well.
“Mr. Herbert,” Dr. Lael addressed her father, his expression serious, “you’re going to need to lay off the alcohol.”
Her father reacted with a snort. “Barely touch the stuff.”
“Dad,” Maggie protested. “You drink every day. You were at a tavern when you passed out.”
“I drink beer. Hardly ever sample the hard stuff.”
“Dad,” she said, as gently as she could. “Beer, in excess, can be just as damaging as hard alcohol.”
What color remained on Roy’s face quickly disappeared. “I have to give up beer?”
“Yes, Dad, if you want to live, you’re going to need to abstain from all alcohol.”
Roy looked deep in thought and then shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was emphatic. “I’d rather be dead.”
“Dad!” Maggie’s shoulders slumped with defeat.
“Got nothing else to live for,” her father said. “Your mother’s dead, and you’ve left me. The only friend I’ve got is Al and he’s a jabbering fool. My one pleasure in life is beer and Wheel of Fortune.”
“You enjoy Jeopardy!” Maggie knew those were the two television programs her father continually watched.
“Right!” he declared. “Except I don’t come up with the answers as fast as I once did.”
* * *
—
“I’m releasing your father,” Dr. Lael said, as he wrote out the prescription and handed it to Maggie. “See to it that he takes this every day. It will help some. If he continues drinking, his disease will likely advance to cirrhosis of the liver.”
Maggie felt a lump growing in her throat. “I’ll do my best.”
She waited with her father while the hospital prepared his release paperwork.
“This mean I can go home?”
“Yes, but you need to remember what Dr. Lael said. You’ve got to wean yourself off beer, but Dad, you’re going to need help.”
“I’ll be fine, don’t you worry none. Just fine.”
“No, you won’t,” she insisted. “I’m going to search for clinics where you can get the help you need. You’ve got to stop drinking.”
Roy crossed his arms as if he’d had his final say on the subject. Maggie fought down the frustration. She couldn’t force him to stop drinking any more than she could get him the help he’d need to get and stay sober.
Roy Herbert was a stubborn cuss. Always had been and likely always would be, and there was little she could do to change him.
The nurse helped her father off the gurney and into a wheelchair. She handed Maggie the release papers and the prescription Dr. Lael had written out. He’d also included the names of several rehabilitation clinics in the Seattle area. It went without question that these places would be far and away from what Maggie or Roy could afford. But first she had to get her father to agree that he needed help.
As they moved into the waiting room outside the ER, Al stood with his ragged-edged baseball cap in his hand.
“Al,” Maggie said, recognizing him.
“I got here as fast as I could. Was here when you arrived, but you didn’t see me and then they let you in right away. I tried, but they said I couldn’t go in unless I was family.”
“You could’ve lied,” her father grumbled. “If you’d been thinking, you’d have said you were my brother.”
“I’m Black, Roy,” Al reminded him.
“Oh yeah, right,” Roy said.
The exchange amused Maggie when little else had since entering this hospital. “I’m taking Dad home. Would you like a ride, Al?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate it.” He set the cap atop his head and followed them outside.
“It’s no trouble. Would you mind staying with Dad while I get his prescription filled?”
“Be happy to.”
“He’ll talk my ear off,” her father grumbled. “I could be dying, and I don’t want the last thing I hear to be Al talking about his time working for the railroad.”
