The Movies Make It Look Easy

Chapter 79

Nick’s P.O.V:

I sat staring into space, my fingers tapping a relentless beat against my knee. My thoughts had been far away all morning, time slipping by unnoticed in the silence that permeated the apartment.
I should have left hours ago.
Adrian and Katie bade us goodbye early that morning with promises to see us later in the afternoon. Shannon had left soon after, headed for a day of work. Then there was me. I knew what I should do, what I needed to do. However, my limbs refused to obey my brain’s commands.
Instead, I sat and I thought endlessly, my mind turning over everything Shannon had revealed to me as we lay in bed last night.
Anything to delay the inevitable.

I almost didn’t know how I felt about the revelations about Lee and Natalie. Each word had been a blow to my very centre until I was left in a breathless daze, unsure of what exactly to think.
I hated Lee. It was that simple. And yet, it was he who had apologised; he was the one to show remorse for his behaviour. Perhaps it wasn’t so surprising, really, if I would only put my anger aside. Lee was a person driven by his emotions; jealousy and hate especially. I knew more than most the effect such feelings could have on a person – it was a darkness that pushed people away and spoke harsh words, words that were often regretted almost immediately. Yes, I suppose I could understand, in a way. As little as I cared for him, I knew he wasn’t necessarily a bad person; not completely, anyway.
I felt my lips twist in a bitter smile. I was only going to concede so much before I remembered Lee’s horrible actions and attitudes. I would be happy to never have to see him again.
My thoughts turned to Natalie. She was a completely different story. She was stone-cold, the worst type of person in my opinion. One who would betray her friends without a thought – do her very worst, with the sole purpose of hurting others.
That’s what she’d done to Shannon. She had figured out what would hurt her most and gone after it, seemingly with no feelings of guilt for her actions. I hated that I’d been used so callously, but hated more how much it had hurt Shannon. Perhaps a part of me would never forgive myself.
Sometimes I still found myself staring at her when she wasn’t aware, wondering just how I’d managed to make her love me. I didn’t need anyone to tell me just how lucky I was that she’d come into my life. I knew it every day I woke up beside her, every day she greeted me with a smile and kiss. Yes, I was fortunate.

My mind tried to conjure up the image of Shannon’s unlucky meeting with two of her least favourite people in the middle of a random Starbucks. I could see Lee, could imagine him staring at my girlfriend with that same longing that had often made me tense up and glare.
Beside him though, where I imagined his bitchy best friend had sat, her face was blurred at the edges, nothing about her unremarkable features and plain brown hair and eyes making her stick out in my mind. After all, other than one drunken night that was a painful blankness in my mind, I had only met her a few times. And each of those times, my thoughts had been so full of Shannon, wishing for things I couldn’t have, that I scarcely remembered Natalie. I felt a strange satisfaction at the thought, for once commending my ability to forget.

I suppose it didn’t matter though, not really. All these thoughts and contemplations were merely diversionary tactics, my attempt to avoid the bigger issue. My sigh was long and slow, my fingers once more picking up their tapping.
I should have left hours ago.
I wanted to see her, I did, but I was also scared to go back to that all too familiar place, that small bare room. It had been so long; I hadn’t been back in months. My last visit hadn’t exactly ended well. Perhaps I was scared this one wouldn’t either.
For as much as I wished to see my mother – as useless as it was – I dreaded seeing my father. I saw no way to mend what had been broken between us; no words to be spoken, no gesture to show my good faith. Maybe that was for the best.

It still didn’t change the fact that I needed to move. Now.
Gathering every last shred of my willpower, I pushed myself from my seat, stretching my aching muscles as I headed for the door. Not allowing myself time to turn back, I strode out the door, stopping only to lock it behind me before I went off in search of a taxi. If I walked, I’d never get there before visiting hours ended.
It felt refreshing to not have to wear layers of clothes to not freeze immediately after stepping outside. Everyone in the city was taking complete advantage of the warm weather. We’d long since learned to make the most of it; it never lasted, after all.

I stared moodily out the window of the barely moving vehicle, looking longingly at the street I would usually turn down to get to Shannon’s workplace. What I wouldn’t give to go and see her, right now.
Just sitting, watching her work and interact with those around her was a simple pleasure that I had never thought to experience for myself. Maybe I’d stop by on the way home.
Closing my eyes, I rested my head on the back of the seat and willed myself to relax. The relatively short car journey was lengthened by the traffic clogging the streets. Perhaps I should have walked after all. It was preferable to just sitting here in awkward silence with a foreign driver who either didn’t speak English, or chose not to. Though in fairness, I preferred not having to make polite conversation with a complete stranger. I just wasn’t in the mood.

Finally, the taxi pulled up outside the depressingly familiar building and I almost tripped in my haste to exit the suddenly claustrophobic space. Handing over my fare, I headed for the bleak building. The automatic glass doors slid open with barely a whisper and I stepped inside. I made my way unconsciously down the corridor to the left, my feet taking me in the direction I needed to go. It didn’t take long to reach the third floor, and I hesitated only once as I passed a room with an open door.
A bevy of nurses were gathered, doing this and that, but my eyes were drawn to only one of them, watching as she slowly drew the bedsheet up until it fully covered the face of the patient that lay there – the body.
Feeling my jaw clench, I averted my gaze and forced myself to continue on. I hated myself for being glad that it had been a stranger that had died, and not my mother. I told myself it would be better for everyone if she did die, and most of the time I believed it to be true, but sometimes the heart defied logic and reason.

Clearing my mind of my torn thoughts, I stopped outside the second-last door on the left. Through the small window, I could see a familiar nurse bending over my mother, adjusting one of the many tubes that kept her alive. For a moment, my heart seized, sure I was going to see her pull the sheet up, up until there was nothing left but the vague outline of a person, shrouded in white. But no, she straightened up only a second later with a slight smile of fondness aimed at my mother’s vacant face.
Our time hadn’t come. Not yet.
I opened the door, quietly stepping inside. Alicia, the head nurse at the hospital, turned to me, her face breaking into a wide smile that deepened the creases at her eyes and mouth. I smiled at her in return, feeling the strain of pretending to be in at least a passably good mood.
Alicia had always been exceptionally friendly to us, and seemed to genuinely enjoy tending to my mother – well, as much as one could enjoy caring for someone in her condition. It was an attitude that had always surprised me. I mean, technically she’d never met my mother. And as for my father and I, well, I was never much by way of company when I came to visit, and my dad only ever had eyes for his wife.

Still, for whatever reason, Alicia had decided she would take our messed up family under her wing. Her attention left me feeling uncomfortable mostly, but there had been times when I’d been grateful for a smile or a quiet word of reassurance. For that reason I’d always be grateful.
“Nick, you’re here” she said, her deep voice rasping slightly.
She sounded like she’d been smoking for half her life, but I’d never seen any tell-tale signs that would usually give a smoker away. I shrugged the thought off, returning my attention to the woman before me.
“I am.” It took effort not to let my words come across as sarcastic. She didn’t seem like the type of woman to appreciate a dry wit.
“Haven’t seen you around for months.” Her tone was curious with just enough chastisement to make me shuffle uncomfortably under her steady gaze. “Your mother’s missed you.”
“I doubt she’s even noticed.” I strived for a levity I didn’t feel, swallowing the words I really wanted to say; that there was no one there capable of missing me.

A deep sadness entered her eyes, and I wondered how anybody could work in such a place. I surely wasn’t the only damaged family member Alicia and the other nurses had to witness trudging in and out of the hospital on a daily basis, whether out of hope or guilt it didn’t really matter. We all looked the same.
“How is she?” I asked awkwardly, shuffling over to the bedside.
I didn’t touch her, not while Alicia was watching. I could barely even look at her, if I was honest.
Alicia’s brow furrowed, the corners of her mouth turning down. My hands twitched and heartbeat sped up.
She nodded to herself as if making some internal decision. “Perhaps you should talk to the doctor. Your father has been refusing to see him, refusing to listen.”
My mind latched onto only one part of that sentence, pushing aside the ominous meaning to the rest of her words. Perhaps my father and I weren’t so different, after all.
“My dad’s been to visit?”
She nodded, her frown deepening. “Every Thursday.” She paused. “Will you speak to the doctor?”
She clearly wouldn’t let me avoid the subject. The weight of responsibility collapsed in around me, constricting and repressing.
“Okay” I nodded unwillingly.
“I’ll send him in” she told me, before bustling out the door.

I pulled a chair up to the bedside, finally letting my gaze drift over my mother. Her pale, waxy skin seemed to sag a bit more, her bones more prominent than ever. Was she really looking worse, or was I just now noticing the changes because it had been so long since I’d seen her?
I shook my head slightly, bending down to press a kiss to her cool cheek, my hand finding its way to hers as I took a seat. I didn’t speak, though. I couldn’t get the words out. My eyes were on her face, but my full attention was on the door behind me, waiting for the sound of the doctor’s footsteps.
Alicia had seemed less upbeat than usual, so of course I had to wonder if something had happened to make her worried. Had the time finally come, then? Was my mother’s passing imminent?
For years I’d waited for the words to be spoken, but I still wasn’t ready. I never would be, not completely.

Finally, I heard the door open. I let go of my mother’s hand and turned to face the man who had entered the room. He was a short, Indian man with a wide, perfectly white smile. He looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t recall his name. He carried a chart under his arm and extended a hand for me to shake. His friendly attitude immediately put me at ease, and I couldn’t help but think that if he was here to deliver bad news, he wouldn’t look so damn happy. Right?
He gestured for me to retake my seat as he occupied the only other chair in the room, on the other side of the bed.
Part of me wanted to object to the fact that we were apparently about to have a conversation across my mother, like she was no more than a piece of furniture, but I decided not to bother. I just wanted this discussion over with.

Clasping his hands in front of him, the doctor leaned forward, taking a moment to just look at me, his expression thoughtful.
“Now as I’m sure you know” he began, getting right to the point, “that as your mother’s LPA – Lasting Power of Attorney – we would usually discuss her health with your father.”
“But he won’t listen” I said grimly.
“No, he won’t” he admitted. “I’ve tried many times, but the subject seems to make him aggravated, and he refuses point blank to hear any updates on his wife’s condition; whether good or bad.”
I averted my gaze.
“This, as I’m sure you can understand, puts us in a difficult position.”
I nodded shortly.
The doctor sat back in his seat, scrutinising me. “If I were to update you on your mother’s condition, do you think perhaps your father would listen to you?”
Seconds passed before I was able to look him squarely in the face. “My father and I do not speak. He’d be even less likely to listen if the information was coming from me. You can trust me on that.”
He nodded like he wasn’t too surprised by that revelation, and I had to wonder what sort of impression Jonah King must have left on the hospital staff. Obviously not a very good one.
“It seems we are both in a quandary, then.”
I didn’t reply; it seemed rhetorical at best.

Slapping his palms against his knees, the doctor reached for the chart he’d clipped to the end of the bed. “Even so, I would feel better – and maybe you would too – if I could tell you a little more about your mother’s condition?”
No, no it wouldn’t make me feel better. Quite the opposite actually. When doctors started spouting off medical jargon that I didn’t understand, it made me feel nervous more than anything. Even just hearing him say the words “your mother’s condition” made me uncomfortable.
“Go ahead.” I told him, concentrating closely on the uninteresting weave of the blankets covering the bed.
“Now I won’t go into too much detail, just apprise you the most recent developments…such as they are.”
I nodded, forcing myself to meet his gaze. The pity I saw there almost made me get up and leave.
“While there have been no dramatic progressions in your mother’s condition, her health continues to slowly decline. Her latest EEG and CT scans show as much.” He paused and I stared back at him steadily, unwilling to let my eyes stray down to the bed.
“I could show you the results of her on-going tests, and try to show you how they differ, but something tells me you don’t want that.”
Was I really that easy to read?
“No, I don’t want to see. I believe you.”
His eyes flickered down to his chart as he flipped the page. It was a prop, merely something for him to occupy his hands. He had no doubt gone over everything it said before entering the room. I couldn’t blame him for that - I wished I had something to fill my hands, something to hide the horrible trembling that had started in my fingers.

Finally the doctor put the chart down, seemingly ready to continue with the conversation. I wasn’t.
“As I’m sure you are aware, we advised your father of the likelihood that his wife would never recover. That perhaps the best option would be to take her off life-support. Your father was vehemently opposed to this idea, and so we have kept her alive on ventilators and by administering nutrition and fluids intravenously.”
“And there’s nothing we can do about that? Nothing to overrule his decisions?” The words were out before I fully realised I was going to say them. I regretted it instantly.
He looked uncomfortable. “If there was evidence of negligence or that the decisions made weren’t in the patient’s best interests, as an LPA is legally obligated to do, then you could appeal to the courts.” He paused again. “If that is something you wish to pursue, then I would recommend researching all the necessary information before attempting to take legal action.”
My head spun as I slowly shook my head. “I’m not sure taking him to court would be a good idea.”
The thought had never crossed my mind, and even now I shied away from the idea. It scared me, honestly, and I rubbed my suddenly sweaty palms against my jeans. I was a second-year art student who worked part time in a bar. All I wanted to do was spend time with my friends and girlfriend, and have fun. I didn’t want to have to think about the legal system, courts, and medical proxies.

I felt my throat constrict slightly, and part of me wondered if this was how Shannon felt when she had a panic attack. It wasn’t fun. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on just breathing, ignoring the astringent smell of chemicals, the consistent beep of life-sustaining machines, and the harsh fluorescent lighting. The man across from me waited patiently, but I ignored him as well, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes again. When my heartbeat returned to a more regular pace, I opened my eyes, ready to finish the conversation.
“If treatment continues as it is, because I doubt my father is going to change his mind anytime soon, then what are the…possible outcomes to my mother’s condition?”
It was a stupid question, I realised, even as I spoke. We both knew exactly what the outcome would be. I just didn’t know how to phrase the questions I wanted answered. How would it happen? When?

The doctor nodded like he understood completely. “If her health continues as it has been, with no unforeseen developments, then I believe her condition will result in brain death.”
My mouth dried instantly. “What does that mean, exactly?”
His gaze turned to my mother’s slack face but I refused to follow his lead. “In this country, the diagnosis of something called ‘brain stem death’ is needed to legally pronounce someone in your mother’s condition as dead. It is a syndrome defined by the absence of reflexes with pathways through the brain stem.” He paused again, a habit I was finding increasingly irritating. “If formally diagnosed, the patient will be taken off life support. Death will occur within a matter of days.”
I frowned. “And what if she isn’t taken off life support; what then?”
“Death will still be inevitable, I’m afraid. Even with the use of ventilators, the heart will stop beating within days, if not hours.”
I blew out a long, slow breath, unsure if I should feel relieved or not. Part of me was glad that someday, she could finally be allowed to let go. The thought of finally, and completely, losing my mother was terrifying but this interminable waiting was almost as hard to bear. I guess this was why my father continued to refuse to listen to anything the doctors or nurses had to say. Because then he might finally have to realise that after years of waiting and hoping, whether he wished it or not, his wife would die, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“And when…when will this happen? Do you know?”
“I cannot know for certain. My guess would be that it will be sooner rather than later. She will not survive another few years.”

The whole situation felt surreal and I restricted the urge to pinch myself to make sure this wasn’t all a dream – or a nightmare.
“Thanks for telling me” was all I managed.
He barely acknowledged my words, his expression thoughtful once more. “I should make it clear to you that infection is common in coma patients. Your mother has been extremely lucky and has only suffered a few treatable infections over the years, and she is not as…restless, as some. But in the interests of being completely forthright with you, I would be remiss not to mention all possible avenues.”
I wondered what he meant by restless. Surely that was the last thing you’d need to worry about with a coma patient, but then, I wasn’t a doctor. I knew very little, and what I did know was what I’d long ago memorised. The information had ceased to have much meaning, and instead was just words I could list off by rote if I needed to. I avoided torturing myself by researching on the internet – preferring to stick with the belief that ignorance truly was bliss; an immature approach, perhaps, but one that had worked so far.
“Do you have any questions?”
The question brought me abruptly back to the present and I shook my head firmly. “No, I think you’ve told me all I need to know. Or at least I think I have as much information as I can handle for one day.”
The doctor smiled widely with a slight chuckle, and I found the return of those brilliant white teeth to be oddly comforting. It was like with that smile he’d broken the tension that had slowly descended over the room as our conversation continued. “Indeed. I’d be happy to answer any follow-up questions if you think of them, and the same goes for your father if he decides he’s ready to listen. Grief, I think, is the biggest obstacle he needs to face.”
I made polite sounds of agreement, though I knew that my father’s problems ran a lot deeper than that. The years of heavy drinking could attest to that.

“Excuse me if you think me impolite, but is there…anybody you could talk to about all of this? A grief counsellor, perhaps?”
I stared at the concern etched onto the doctor’s face, feeling slightly bemused by his line of questioning – though it was completely understandable from his point of view.
“Talking to friends and family members can help, but sometimes with the best will in the world, they can’t understand what you’re going through” he continued.
“My girlfriend recently lost her brother. She understands more than most what it’s like to lose someone you love.” I told him hesitantly.
“My condolences” he said sincerely. “You’re lucky to have somebody who is willing to listen. Many people attempt to go through it alone, and all they end up doing is bottling up their feelings. You can only hold everything in for so long. At some point, something has to give. It’s best not to let it get to that point” he said kindly.
I nodded in understanding. My father was a perfect example of this. I had been too, before I met Shannon. For so long I held everything in, and though Mark and Jay had been there for me, like the doctor said, they didn’t understand what it was like, so I’d stopped talking to them. Even though I knew it was unhealthy, I hadn’t been able to stop myself. Things were better now, though maybe not as much as I would like, or as much as I let on.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding, pushing aside my thoughts when the doctor stood. “I believe visiting hours are almost over, so I’ll leave you now.”
With another firm handshake, the doctor was gone. Immediately the room felt hollow, a depressing silence falling.

I slowly retook my seat, my hand automatically finding my mother’s once more. Once it enveloped hers, I allowed my gaze to stray to the window on the other side of the room. We were on the third floor, and there wasn’t much of a view, but the sight of the bright sunshine and blue skies between towering buildings lifted my spirits considerably. It gave me the courage I needed to speak directly to my mother for the first time since I’d stepped into her room what felt like hours ago.
“Hey mum” I said, my voice soft and quiet like I was scared somebody was listening. “It’s been a while since I visited, and I feel like I should apologise for that. Is that stupid? Probably.”
I stopped, becoming lost in my thoughts. “Either way, if you could talk, I’m sure you’d tell me otherwise. You were always far too nice for your own good; you didn’t even get mad when I broke that expensive vase when I was seven.” I smiled slightly at the memory. “I remember hiding under my bed for hours because I was so scared you’d be angry, or worse, upset or disappointed.”
I smiled down at her unresponsive form, that small, naïve part of me that still wished there was magic in the world, expecting her to wake up and laugh with me about something that happened years ago. My smile dropped. “I remember hours later after you’d coaxed me out of hiding with cookies, dad came home and you told him that you were the one who’d broken it so he wouldn’t get mad. And he didn’t, because he loved you too much to ever stay mad at you for long. I was never that lucky.”
The familiar sense of bitterness washed over me as I thought of my past. “Yes” I repeated quietly to myself; “you were always far too nice. Too loving, too trusting, too good.” I squeezed her hand gently, my thoughts far away.
“I’m not like you” I admitted, the words like drops in a still pool. “I’m not as nice, or as good as you ever were. I do bad things, and I hurt people. People I care about. I try not to – I mean, it’s not like enjoy fucking up…sometimes it just happens.” I stopped, taking a moment to just stare at the damn painting that still hung above the bed.
“I sometimes wonder if you’d been around longer if I would have turned out better, or if this what I was always meant to be like, no matter what? Maybe I just take after dad too much.” I continued, simply thinking aloud.
It all came down to nature versus nurture in the end, and like so many questions I’d probably never have my answer.
“I’ve told you about Shannon, I know I have. I even brought her here…God, that feels like so long ago.” I closed my eyes, my mind conjuring up an image of my girlfriend. I knew every inch of her, but no picture could ever hold a candle to the real thing.
“She makes me a better person, mum, and I know you’d really like her. How could you not?” I sighed, mourning for what could never be. “She’s invited me home to Ireland for the summer, so I won’t be able to visit.”

Suddenly, I realised what I was doing. I dropped my gaze to study the paper-thin skin covering the skeletal hand in mine. It was cool, so limp. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to let it go, to let it fall back to the bed. Anger washed over me. Anger at God, fate, circumstance, coincidence, whatever it was that had led to this exact moment. But mostly I was angry at my mother. In that second, inexplicably, I hated her. I hated her for leaving me, for being so good.
“Why couldn’t you have been more like dad?” I muttered, my voice reflecting my feelings. All rationality was pushed aside as I let myself drown in my own regrets. “Why did you have to be such a good mother? Things would be so much easier if I didn’t fucking care so much.”
The bitterness continued to rise and I didn’t do anything to stop it. “I don't know why I still feel the need to tell you what's going on in my life. It's not like you can hear me. At first the doctors said talking would help, that there was a chance you might hear and come back to us...for all the good that did. Now you're all but brain dead and your family has fallen apart around you. You were too good to end up like this.”

When I finished speaking I was breathing hard, like I’d just run a race. I felt tears well up in my eyes as the hate and bitterness deflated, draining out of me with each exhale. It was just like the doctor said; you can only bottle things up for so long.
In a way I’d lied to him when I said I had someone to talk to. I knew Shannon wouldn’t mind talking to me about my problems, in fact I think she liked it when I let her in. She’d proved to me many times how understanding she could be, and talking to her always left me feeling better. And yet, ever since Ryan died I hadn’t wanted to burden her with my problems. She still wasn’t back to the way she used to be, not entirely, and I was scared that I’d say something that would send her back into the spiral of despair it had taken so long to pull her out of.
I was scared of so many things, and I was equally scared of giving voice to those fears. It would be cathartic for both of us to talk about everything. I just needed to take the first step.

I looked once more at my mother’s face. Gently picking her hand up again, I ran my thumb over her wrist, barely feeling a pulse. I lowered my head until my lips hovered just beside her ear, a single tear making its way down my face until it dropped onto the thin strands of her carefully arranged hair.
“I'm so sorry I couldn't be better, I'm sorry dad didn't love me more, and I'm sorry for spending so much time blaming myself for what happened to you. It isn't my fault, and it never was. If there's anything I've learned lately, it's that sometimes bad things just happen, and there's nothing we can do about it. I'm sorry it took me so long to realise it" I whispered.
If only my father could come to the same realisation, and let my mother go – finally releasing us all from this never-ending cycle of loss and pain.

I didn’t stay long after that. I felt I’d said all that needed to be said; for better or worse. With another kiss to her cheek, and a long, quiet look, I turned and left the room, feeling different somehow. I wasn’t happier exactly, and my grief certainly wasn’t any less, but things didn’t seem as hopeless as they had when I entered the room almost two hours ago. I hadn’t even realised so much time had passed.
With a wave to Alicia who was firmly entrenched behind the desk in the lobby, a pile of charts in front of her, I stepped outside. The warmth hit me in a comforting embrace, and I immediately flagged down a taxi. By now I guessed Shannon was almost home, so there wasn’t much point in stopping by the Café. I couldn’t see her soon enough.

When I was dropped off at the campus gates, I saw a very familiar figure walking a couple hundred yards ahead of me. Grinning widely, I jogged after her. She turned just as reached her, having heard my footsteps, but before she got the chance to so much as smile, I swept her up into my arms, kissing her deeply.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, she returned my kiss with so much love I sighed contentedly against her lips, holding her tighter to me. I heard the whispers of curious onlookers but I didn’t care. Right then my world only consisted of one other person. She pulled away just enough to grin shyly.
“What was that for?”
I smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. “Do I need a reason?”
She laughed. “No. And I am definitely not complaining.”
After a moment of silence that I spent simply looking at her, she laughed again. “Nick, Sweetie, are you going to put me down?” She kicked her legs slightly as if to prove her point.
I sighed dramatically. “If I must.”
I slowly let her slide down my body until her feet were once more firmly planted on the ground. Slipping her small, warm hand into mine, we set off towards the apartment, both of us continuing to ignore everybody around us.

We hadn’t gone more than a few feet before Shannon turned concerned green eyes on me. “How did it go?”
I hesitated for only a moment before telling her all about the visit, including everything the doctor had told me about my mother’s prognosis. Instantly her eyes filled with a familiar pain, a pain that I knew was all for me. Because she understood what I was going through, what I felt. It was an unbelievable relief not to have to explain it to someone. Looking back now, I wondered why I had waited so long to talk about it.
“Oh Nick, I’m so sorry” she said.
I smiled down at her softly. “I know you are, Sweetheart. Thank you.”
She squeezed my hand, at once conveying everything she didn’t need to say; that she’d always be there for me, that she loved me, and so much more.

“When are Adrian and Katie due home?” I asked, changing the subject with more than a little relief. Right now, I didn’t want to dwell on the past, or the future. I never thought I’d wish for the banalities of everyday life.
“Any minute now” she answered with a smile of pure happiness that instantly improved my mood tenfold.
“How was work?” I asked, and couldn’t help but wonder if true love wasn’t the simple act of asking your partner how their day was and actually caring about what they said in return. I liked to think it was, though I didn’t have much to compare it to.
Shannon’s smile widened into an amused grin. “It was interesting, to say the least” she told me as we arrived at our door.
I waited patiently as she fished her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door. “For starters, I’ve organised a romantic dinner for you and Toby.”
I sent her back a stunned look as she sauntered inside without any elaboration whatsoever. “Um…what?”
To say I was confused was a vast understatement. She just laughed as I followed her, shutting the door firmly behind us. She collapsed onto the couch, her bag falling to the floor, without another word.
I looked down at her, still waiting for her to finish her story. When she didn’t speak, I grew impatient.
“Mind telling me what the hell you’re talking about?” I growled playfully.
I could only presume she was joking…or had completely gone crazy. I wasn’t sure which was more likely.
She quirked an eyebrow at me, a devious look appearing in her eyes. “You heard me. I told Toby I’d talk to you before making definite plans.”
Oh, now I felt stupid. “So you want the three of us to go to dinner?” Not exactly my idea of fun but if Shannon wanted to do it, I’d go along with whatever.
She chuckled. “No, like I said, the dinner is for you and Toby.”
“Am I missing something?” Now I was scared. She didn’t actually expect me to go to dinner with someone I barely even knew…did she?
Actually I could see the benefit, if only because she’d owe me big time and I always had ideas on how to cash in. Reaching up to grab my hand, she pulled me down on top of her. Yes, I had plenty of ideas.

“Remember the day you knocked some sense into me?” She prompted me from my lascivious thoughts.
I grinned, making myself comfortable. “Which time?”
“Ha. So funny.” She wrinkled her nose to tell me exactly what she thought of my sense of humour. She secretly loved it.
“The time I professed my dying love for you?” She teased.
I pretended to think about it. “Yes, I vaguely remember taking pity on you and agreeing to go out with you.”
“You’re so full of yourself” she whispered, pulling me in for a kiss.
I was all too willing. “You know what Mark would say in this situation?” I grinned cheekily.
“What?”
“You can be full of me too.”
Her eyes widened slightly before she burst out laughing, and I could feel it vibrating through my chest.
“Mark’s a pervert” she said eventually.
I couldn’t agree more. What I said was; “he just likes to get to the point, is all.”
That devious glint returned as she wrapped her arms around me. “Pity he has no one to say it to. His hand doesn’t count, of course.”
I raised my eyebrows. I didn’t think it was possible to love this girl anymore. She surprised me every time.
“You on the other hand” she bit her lip and I couldn’t contain a groan of pure want.
“You’re killing me, Sweetheart.”
She didn’t bother to answer, just kissed me.

Of fucking course there was a knock on the door. From the moment Shannon and I had met, our relationship – whether good or bad – seemed to have been plagued by interruptions. Each time it pissed me off even more, and recently when she inevitably pulled away, I knew exactly what I was fucking well missing, so it didn’t endear whoever the culprit was to me…like, at all.
“If it is Mark, I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill him” I muttered, unwilling to move off my girlfriend even as she lightly pushed at my shoulders.
“Relax, it’s probably just Adrian and Katie” she laughed.
I finally gave in and sat up, running a hand through my hair in exasperation. “When they leave I am locking us into this apartment for a few days; no visitors, no computers, no phones, no exceptions.”
“Sounds perfect” she murmured with a wink as she skipped to open the door.

It was Adrian and Katie. They were laden down with bags, and Adrian had that well-worn look that every man got when dragged shopping by their girlfriends – or fiancée, as the case may be.
Of course Shannon asked Katie all about their trip and the shops they’d visited. Before she could utter a word in reply, Adrian collapsed into the armchair with a loud groan. “No. You two are not going to talk about shopping, not after I’ve just endured the torture of it for hours.”
His sister and fiancée exchanged some sort of secret girly look like they were reading each other’s minds before bursting into fits of giggles. I sent Adrian a look of pure sympathy; our own form of secret manly look. Yes, very manly.
“Okay, then” Shannon said. “We can talk about Nick’s big news instead.”
Three pairs of eyes focused on me instantly…which I would be completely fine with if I knew what the hell she was talking about. I frowned, wondering if I was forgetting something. My day had revolved around my trip to see my mother, but I was fairly certain that’s not what Shannon meant. I doubted Adrian and Katie even knew much about my parents.
“Shannon, spit it out” Adrian sighed in a brotherly way that spoke of years of pent up exasperation.
She clapped her hands together like she’d just been told a piece of juicy gossip. The looks that were sent her way were sceptical at best.

“Nick came out today.”
I think I choked on my own spit.
“What?” Adrian and Katie chimed in unison. I was too busy trying to breathe. What the fuck?
“Yeah, he finally decided he was ready to tell the truth. He’s already got a date.”
“I think you have severe mental problems” her brother muttered, and I wasn’t sure he was far off the mark with that deduction.
“You are completely and utterly ridiculous” I announced when I was sure I could speak without wheezing.
“I know” she agreed happily, coming over to sit in my lap.
Obviously without thinking, she leaned down and kissed me quickly while the rest of us just stared at her like she’d grown an extra head. Maybe she was drunk?
Tapping a finger against her chin, she stared at me thoughtfully. “Sorry, guess I can’t do that anymore.”
Katie slowly raised a hand. “Am I the only one who’s still confused?”
“Join the club” I muttered darkly.
Shannon just smiled at us innocently, making herself more comfortable in my lap.
“Is this about Toby?” I finally asked.
She nodded but said nothing more.
“You never finished telling me what that was about?” I prompted.
“Not my fault I got side-tracked” she smiled softly.
“No” I agreed, “but I still want to know.

Turning her attention back to her audience, Shannon shrugged like the topic of conversation was no big deal. Like hell it wasn’t. I found I took her opinion that I was apparently now gay, quite personally.
“A while ago, Toby came by the apartment and Nick was quite rude. He even slammed the door in his face” she whispered in mock horror.
Again, the looks that were sent her way were sceptical. I wrapped an arm around her waist, remembering the day I’d lied to Toby about Shannon being sick. I had no regrets. I’d needed a way to keep Shannon in the apartment so we could talk and work things out. It had ended rather well, in my opinion.
“And how exactly does this story end in Nick coming out?” Adrian’s tone said it all. He was merely humouring his sister’s flair for the dramatics.
Shannon shrugged again. “I talked to Toby today. Turns out he’s really upset about what happened, so he agreed to let Nick take him out for a romantic dinner for two as an apology.”
When she trailed off, Katie just rolled her eyes. “You’re so strange, future-sister.”
She of course was just saying what was on all of our minds. Adrian didn’t even bother to comment, just got up and ushered his fiancé into my old room, scooping up the mountain of bags as they went.
Shannon scowled. “Neanderthals. Can’t even appreciate a good story.”
I chuckled as she continued to mutter under her breath.
“Sweetheart, do you have a drinking problem I’m unaware of? Because you’re in a really weird mood…even by our standards.”
She shook her head, seemingly unfazed by my words. “Nope. This is just me being me.” She bent down to kiss me again. “Damn, I have to remember to stop doing that” she laughed under her breath.
“I object” I told her seriously.

She rested her head against my shoulder, and we sat in silence for a while, listening to the muffled sounds of Adrian and Katie talking and laughing together. It was such a peaceful moment that I felt myself grow sleepy, despite the early hour.
Yawning, I eyed my girlfriend curiously. “Toby wasn’t really pissed about what happened, was he?” I didn’t know him at all but he didn’t seem the type to hold a grudge.
Shannon chuckled. “He pretended to be, but when I threatened to make the two of you go out for dinner, he backed off pretty quickly.”
“Gee thanks” I muttered sarcastically.
“Don’t worry” she told me happily, “you can take me out to dinner whenever you like.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hint taken.”
She sat up with a smile. “We should take the idiots to dinner tonight” she told me, jerking her thumb at the closed door only a few feet away.
I nodded in agreement. It would be a nice way to end their trip. After all, it would be months before we saw them again and I knew Shannon would miss them a lot.
Standing up, she held a hand out to me with a smile. “If we’re going out later, let’s go take a nap now.”
My earlier feelings of drowsiness returned and I stared at her through half-lidded eyes. “Please tell me that was code for ‘let’s go have sex’” I said. I wasn’t an idiot, I knew she meant exactly what she’d said, but it was fun to tease her.
She narrowed her eyes, glancing quickly at the still-closed door to my room. “No, it was code for ‘let’s go lie down and sleep for a few hours’” she hissed and I knew she was worried her brother would overhear.
Laughing at how uncomfortable she looked, I took her hand, allowing her to pull me up off the couch before heading for our room.
My mind was still heavy with thoughts of my earlier visit to the hospital and all I’d learned, but being around people I cared about made it so much easier to bear. It appeared – though I’d known for a long time – that my mother’s fate was set. It was only a matter of time.
My father though, that was far more complicated. The things he’d said to me last time we met were imprinted in my brain and I knew I could never forget, but I did genuinely hope that he could overcome at least some of his issues. Otherwise, I feared he’d end up following his wife to an early grave. That was something I didn’t want to have to live through.
Shannon smiled up at me and I couldn’t help smiling back. Already my mood had improved exponentially, and I had a feeling that the day would only get better. In the past, I would have drowned my sorrows in alcohol for the next few days…but not anymore. For that I was glad.