Kelsey

Returning to my hometown over the holidays was like taking a glimpse back in time to my childhood. I got to stay in my old room and partake in our Christmas traditions with my father. Best of all, I had absolutely no obligations when it came to school work or deadlines. Since this was my senior year at the University of Texas in Austin, I recognized that these days were coming to an end. Soon enough I’d have the responsibility of a job, bills, and everything else that came from adulting. But until then, I’d gladly enjoy one more winter break where I could spend my time in yoga pants and my school’s sweatshirt, like every other American college girl.

I checked my phone as I made my way towards baggage claim in the Seattle airport. I was anxious to see my Dad. He’d be here to pick me up as always and tell me what he always did which was I was beautiful like my Mom. She’d died when I was three, but from the pictures, I had the same sandy brown hair and light green eyes as she did.

I walked past the security point of no return and out to the main terminal, where there were hordes of people greeting their loved ones coming in for the holiday. But there was no sign of my Pops. I glanced back at my phone screen. Not that he was much on texting, but he’d send the occasional one if he was running late or needed something. I always had to laugh, as he treated texting like he was writing a letter.

Dear Kelsey. This is Dad. I’m running late. Love, Dad.

It was no use explaining this stuff to him. My dad was just a dork like that. But no such text had come this time.

“Kelsey. Kelsey over here.”

I turned at the voice calling out and saw the familiar face of our long-time neighbor and my father’s best friend Jim.

“Hey, Jim. What are you doing here? Is my dad on a haul?”

My father was a truck driver who worked for Jim’s trucking company. He often drove over the mountain pass to Eastern Washington, and sometimes he took extra gigs at the last minute. But I’d thought for sure he’d taken today off to pick me up. Plus, he always took Christmas Eve and Day off. It was tradition. 

Jim looked uncomfortable with the question. My curiosity instantly morphed into fear. “He’s okay, right?”

He swallowed hard. “Why don’t we get your bag and talk in the car?”

He tried to turn to walk away, but I grabbed his arm. “Why don’t you tell me now.” I wasn’t normally a brat in demanding my way, but his not answering my question with a resounding no, was starting to freak me out.

“Honey, your father had a heart attack this morning.”

Blood rushed from my head as my chest pounded. “What? Is he - oh God, is he…?”

“He’s in surgery. Double bypass.” He glanced at his watch. “He should be out shortly. They said it would be about four hours.”

Four hours? What could they be doing for four hours? “I need to see him.”

“I’ll take you straight there. I promise.” He went on to explain my father had complained of chest pains that morning while in the office doing some paperwork.

After gathering my suitcase from the conveyer belt, which seemed to take an eternity, we walked out curbside. “Aren’t you parked?” I asked, assuming we’d be heading for the garage.

“No, we figured it would be faster to have Scott pick us up here. Ah, there he is. We’re in the red truck.”

Scott was his son who was four years older than me. He’d been a senior while I was a freshman. Although he’d been homecoming king worthy back then, the man that stepped out of the truck made that boy look like chopped liver. We’d grown up next door to one another without a lot in common, except for the fact that our dads hung out all the time. He’d had a steady girlfriend all through high school, and had gone off to college by the time that I had started to notice boys were cute. But now, Scott Turner was all man. He had grown up, and as he got out of the truck I got to see how tall he’d gotten. He was definitely at least six-foot two, with broad muscular shoulders, and judging from the way he tossed my suitcase into the back of the truck with ease, some strong muscles.

“Hey, Kels,” he greeted. His eyes were familiar, but soft, given the circumstances.

“Hey, Scott,” I said, momentarily caught off guard. He looked too good in his hunter green Henley, with dark wash jeans and brown boots. Then I seemed to remember not only my brain, but the fact we were rushing to see my father in the hospital. Time to lust over the neighbor boy would certainly have to wait. I chalked up my physical reaction to the fact that I hadn’t seen him in years. He’d been away on the East Coast getting his Master’s Degree the last few years, and the last I’d heard was that he’d landed a job with Morgan Stanley.

We drove in silence on the way to Harbor View Hospital, which was a twenty-minute drive if traffic cooperated. Thankfully it did, even with the heavy fog settling in the area. Jim had updated me with what details he had. But I could scarcely listen to him. All I could think about was needing to see my dad.

 

***

 

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but really was only twenty minutes, we arrived at the hospital. Jim took the lead in inquiring about my father. The receptionist said he was indeed out of surgery and in the ICU. We followed the nurse as she walked us to the elevator that led to the recovery room. It was eerily quiet when we went through the doors, with the beeping of machines and the quiet murmur of nurses at the desk the only noise.

My dad was my rock. He was a large man at six-foot tall, and probably had a good fifty extra pounds on him, but he’d never smoked, and seemed to eat somewhat healthy compared to some of the other truckers who were constantly shoveling down fast food. He’d always been strong, seeming bigger than life. So, to see him in a hospital bed, looking pale and weak was jarring. I stopped so suddenly, Scott ran straight into my back when I froze at the door. If I hadn’t been so shocked, I may have appreciated his hands on my hips along with his broad chest pressed up against my back. Instead, all I could do was stare at my father looking lifeless in the bed. I wasn’t even aware that Scott had moved to my side and put a comforting arm around my shoulders.

“Kels. He’s gonna be all right,” he whispered.

I blinked back the tears, finding my voice and meeting his eyes. “How do you know?”

“Because he’s strong, and stubborn.” He smiled a little, making me realize it wasn’t just hard on me seeing him this way. It was difficult on anyone who knew my Dad and the big impression that he left with everyone that he came into contact.

“Can he hear me?” I approached the bed, trying not to let my emotions overwhelm me.

Jim answered from behind us. “The doctors said he was heavily sedated, but should be coming out of it soon. Go ahead, talk to him. Maybe it will help him to come around faster.”

I took a deep breath and sat down on the single chair beside the bed trying to ignore all of the tubes coming out of the only family I’d had for most of my life. Reaching over, I touched his hand. “Pops, can you hear me? It’s me Kelsey.” I looked up to Jim and Scott as if they’d tell me whether or not he could understand.

 “How about we give you some privacy. We’ll just be outside,” Jim offered.

I didn’t want them to go, but asking them to stay felt like an imposition. Scott hesitated while his father went out of the door. His honey brown eyes focused on me. “You want me to stay?”

“I’m okay. Do you mind getting a doctor I can talk to?”

“Not at all. Let me go find someone.”

Turning back towards my father once the door closed, I rubbed my fingers over his cold hand. The sounds of the machines helping him to breathe filled the space.

“I’m here. I flew in this morning and Jim picked me up along with Scott.”

I went on talking about classes and the foggy weather. All things he would’ve asked me in the car if he’d picked me up as planned. I felt like I was blabbering, since he couldn’t answer back. I examined his face. When would he wake up?

“Daddy,” I whispered. I hadn’t used that word since I was a little girl, but now I was feeling the need. “Please wake up. We’re supposed to hang the lights and decorate the tree, bake cookies and eat Thai food on Christmas, because we can’t be bothered to make a turkey. Not trying to put a time frame on this, but I need you to be okay by Christmas Eve. Okay? Please?”

I hadn’t realized Scott had stepped back in, this time with a man in a white coat who I hoped was the doctor.

“Are you Kelsey, the next of kin?” He was so matter of fact. What was it about next of kin that had the ability to send a shiver up your spine. It was so clinical and death like.

“I’m his daughter yes.”

He narrowed his eyes, flicking a glance to Scott before asking me. “Are you of age?”

“Yes.” I put my temper in check at his scrutiny. Now wasn’t the time.

However, when he turned to Scott to ask the same question as if he was my guardian, I lost it. “What exactly do I need to be of age for? Smoking? Yes. I’m over eighteen. Drinking? Yes, I’m over twenty-one. Renting a car? I’m not quite twenty-five. But getting information from my father’s doctor to find out what’s going on with him? Absolutely I’m old enough.”

He reddened. “Sorry, I just, well you look young.”

I got that a lot, but right now I didn’t have the patience for it. “I’m almost twenty-two. Can you please tell me what is going on with my dad?”

“Yes. Uh, the patient.”

I cringed at his clinical use of the word, but listened as he went on to say he’d suffered a heart attack, that he had two blockages and they’d done the emergency bypass surgery. They expected he’d be waking up in the next half hour, but would need to stay in the ICU for at least the next five days. In other words, we’d be lucky to have him home in time for Christmas in a week’s time.

“You want to go to the house?” Scott asked as soon as the doctor left.

I would have loved to take a shower, but I’d rather be here when my dad woke up. “Uh. No. But you don’t have to wait. I can get an Uber or something.”

He frowned. “I’ll ask my dad if he wants to stay. Do you uh-want to get coffee in the meantime?”

I fought a yawn almost as if on cue. I could use the caffeine. “Coffee would be great.” I walked with him towards the cafeteria, running into his father along the way. There was a strange look that passed between them. The kind that said they were keeping something from me.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Jim replied too quickly.

Scott leveled him with a look. “She deserves to know.”

“Stay out of it son.”

“Know what?” I asked.

Scott sighed. “Let’s get coffee, then we’ll talk.”

His father seemed to relent. “You make sure you tell her what we discussed.”

“Can someone please tell me something here.” I was getting aggravated, being talked about as if I wasn’t there was testing my patience again.

“I will. Come on, Kels.” Scott led the way to the cafeteria.

Why did I have a feeling this wasn’t going to be good?