Ariana rolled the IV tree alongside Vince, as he pushed himself to make the trip down the hall, into the elevator, and then toward her father’s room. He was a stubborn cuss. She could almost feel his pain, but there was no way she’d be able to stop him. Even in this condition, he was stubborn enough to wrestle her to the ground and do what he wanted, even if it meant it would give him a heart attack.
“Vince, this is insane,” she hissed, as they neared their destination.
“What’s insane is the way you’re worried about your father and still came to see me. I’m not going to take you away from him, Ariana. Now, I’ll stay with you for a while, and we can both keep your father company.” His words were final, and Ariana wasn’t going to argue. At least she wouldn’t feel torn between the two of them.
She held her breath as Vince quietly pushed the door to the room open, and she winced as she heard her father’s labored breathing as he rested uneasily. She glanced at Vince’s face, and somehow, it brought her comfort that the older man’s condition disturbed him. He told her in a soft voice, “I lost my father suddenly. It was such a blow, but I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”
Her breath hitched, and she couldn’t respond. They stepped into the room, and Ariana gently closed the door behind them. She made Vince take a seat and placed the tree next to him, assuring the drip wasn’t compromised. Then, she stepped up to the side of her father’s bed, taking his hand. The orderlies had placed him on his side after his wounds had been cared for, and he jerked at her touch.
“He’s so sensitive,” she whispered, staring at the haunted, hollow face. “I just wish the rest of my family cared enough to be here.”
“Some people are just too selfish to know what they have until it’s gone,” Vince spoke under his breath. He was right, and Ariana shivered at the thought of her mother and sister not saying goodbye. He added, “You’re not that person, Ariana. You’re here when he needs you.”
She should have been here all along; but, he was right again. She dug through his bag of toiletries, finding his brush and running it through his sparse, thin hair. “He used to brush my hair when I was young,” she mused, remembering getting out of the shower and bringing the comb or brush to him. She would sit on the stool in the kitchen—where he would be sipping a cocktail and cooking—and he would spend a good twenty minutes brushing it until she had goosebumps from the pleasure.
***
Vince said nothing as he watched Ariana, her face filled with misery and her tone full of love and loss. He understood; her father was still here, but in her eyes, the man she knew was already gone. Unfortunately, it was true. From the time—not long ago—Vince had met the man to now, he was probably a good forty pounds lighter.
He scrubbed his hand over his face, feeling the stubble and wishing he’d at least showered to get rid of the rancid smell on him. He also wished he’d brushed his teeth before she kissed him because his breath was atrocious. However, none of that mattered in the face of something much more important, and he found that his pain and weakness had subsided. Standing, he moved to the other side of the bed and gazed across at Ariana. “I have a room in my house, which was supposed to be a nursery someday, and I have some savings I’m not using. How would you feel about making him comfortable and hiring a full time nurse so that he has the care he needs while you still manage the rest of your life?”
Ariana’s eyes jerked up to his face, and he couldn’t read her expression. “I can’t ask that of you, Vince. You have a life, too, and that savings is yours.”
He nodded. “Yes, it’s mine—to do with as I please. It’s not like I think I’ll be paying for the help for another three years. I want you and your father to be comfortable, and I know you don’t feel he’s being monitored closely enough here.” Vince put his hand on hers, where she’d laid it over her father’s bony wrist. “Let me do this for you.”
Her lower lip trembled, and her voice came out barely a whisper. “What if he goes, and I’m not there?”
Vince felt the weight of her words and wanted to cry with her. Taking a deep breath so his voice wouldn’t shake, he told her, “We’ll have a paging system in place. If it looks like something is going to happen, the nurse will contact you immediately, and you’ll have a key to my house.” It was the best he could do.
She stared at him for a long time, her eyes liquid and her face drawn. Finally, she nodded. “Thank you, Vince. I’d like that.” She came around and threw her arms around his neck, and Vince just held her, wishing he could take all of her pain inside him and bear the burden for her. She pulled back enough to kiss him and whispered, “I love you.”
It was all he needed to hear. He smiled at her and removed her like a piece of clothing. “Good. You stay here with your father. I’m going to go see a man about a nurse.” He kissed her forehead and left, glancing behind him as she turned back to the sleeping shell of a man.
If memory served at all—and he wasn’t sure it did, considering he had no recollection of the previous night—Pound had brought him here. Where the hell had the big man gone? Someone of his size didn’t exactly blend into the crowd. He moved as fast as he could to get back to his room, but it wasn’t fast enough for his liking. When he got there, the nurses and techs who were looking for him were none too pleased.
He snapped at them and told them to get his AMA forms. He was signing himself out. They stalked out angrily, as Pound strode in, looking ridiculous in a set of scrubs. Vince burst out laughing. “I don’t think I could take you seriously as a doctor, brother. I have to admit, if I were any other patient, I’d find you pretty intimidating.”
Pound scowled at him. “Well, I wouldn’t have to wear this horseshit if you hadn’t blown chunks all over me from the moment you fell out of bed this morning. What’s wrong with you, Larson? You polish off a bottle of Gentleman’s Jack, pass out on two women who dragged your ass to bed, and then disappear from your hospital room before I can even get back to check on you.”
“I had something to take care of.” Vince gave him the once over. “Where did you get those anyway?”
Chagrined, Pound gestured vaguely. “Your girlfriend grabbed them from a closet down the hall.”
“I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got something else to take care of. You think you can sneak back in there and find a top for me? In my size, not yours, preferably.” Vince grinned teasingly.
Pound wasn’t amused. “Man, what do I look like, your keeper?” Vince merely raised an eyebrow, and Pound stopped bucking up to him. “This is bullshit, Vince. I hope you choke on your girlfriend’s tongue one of these days.” He stalked away, and Vince shook his head. Pound could be such a child sometimes.
The agitated nurse returned, practically throwing the paperwork at him and then yanking the IV unceremoniously out of his arm. “Thanks, Laverne,” he told her, scowling.
“Whatever, sir. This is the second time you’ve come in on my shift and left like nothing happened. I think maybe you should reconsider your occupation—if you catch my drift.” She glanced meaningfully at Pound’s sleeve of tattoos, and then she jerked the papers out of his hand and left. “You’re free to go,” she called over her shoulder.
Pound tossed him the scrub shirt. “I don’t know your size, bro. If it doesn’t fit, I’m not going back.”
But it was fine, even a little loose like scrubs should be. Bravely, Vince opened the bag, finding his boots and holding his breath while he took them out and scrubbed them in the sink. Some orderly would come clean it out, and though he didn’t have any socks, at least he could make it back to the house without being barefoot. “Are we on your bike?”
Pound gave him a look like he had lost his mind. “The way you were flopping around and spewing your guts at me, I would have never gotten you here. Jude’s out in the truck. Come on. If we’re going, let’s go. I’m tired of people looking at me like they expect me to get angry and turn into the Incredible Hulk.” His words made Vince choke on a laugh, the green scrubs tinging his friend’s skin. He could just imagine the pants tearing at the knee and Pound ripping his shirt off, as his thick neck tensed and he roared with anger.
Patting the big man on the back, he said, “Alright, my friend. Let’s do something good for society.”