“We should go,” Erin said at last, resigning herself to not being able to do anything more. They drove back to the cottage, and Erin said, “I’ll call you from the hospital in the morning to let you know when I’ll be bringing him home.”
“You’ll need help transferring him,” Marge said.
“I’m sure I can make arrangements at the hospital. If you could be here when we return, you and I can get him inside. Besides, Mike will be here tomorrow afternoon. If my dad stays at the hospital most of the day, Mike might be here by the time he comes home.”
Marge offered Erin a tender smile and comforting pat on the arm. “Get some sleep.”
“I will,” Erin promised.
She unlocked the persimmon red door and stepped inside Hidden Cottage. An eerie stillness surrounded her.
17
May the blessing of light be on you—
Light without and light within.
May the blessed sunlight shine on you
And warm your heart
Till it glows like a great peat fire.
Entering the vacant cottage had a powerful effect on Erin. She stood in the silent living room, gazing at the empty hospital bed and then turning her attention to the vivid tangerine sunset out the front window. The same sort of inexplicable peace that had come and gone in her thoughts over the past month returned and soothed her.
She walked out to the bench and sat with her face to the wind, absorbing every last drop of the orange sunset. Listening to the waves, she breathed in and out and did nothing more than appreciate God and his faithful hand of balance and mercy on all of his creation. Erin felt weak and small. Yet in that confinement she knew a deeper peace than she ever had known. And with that peace came strength.
I wonder if it’s been the same for my dad. He’s been drawing from that inner peace. I know he has. His body used to be his strength. He was a mule. He could do anything. Now he’s been enclosed in such a vulnerable weakness. Yet in all my life I’ve never seen him this strong about what truly matters.
Erin took her time walking back to the cottage. She picked a handful of Queen Anne’s lace and examined an interesting-looking cricket that was unafraid of Erin’s slow approach while it remained perched on a bramble bush.
Inside the cottage, she opened windows to let in the twilight breeze and the nature songs of the night. She freshened up the living room, changed the sheets on her dad’s bed, washed a stack of dishes, and had a piece of locally made blueberry pie for dinner.
Then, closing up all the windows, she readied for bed, anticipating the luxury of sleeping through the night without interruption. “Doctor’s orders,” she reminded herself as she slid under the covers. “He’ll be fine without me tonight.”
Erin pulled out her cell phone, ready to have a long talk with Mike. He answered her call on the first ring and told her he was packing and couldn’t wait to see her. Erin gave him the update on her dad. They decided that Mike would call when his plane landed. If he needed to go directly to the hospital, he would meet her there.
Sinking under the covers, Erin fell into the deepest sleep she had had in over a month. She woke almost eleven hours later, blinking and quickly remembering where she was. It felt as if her life had turned another page. Or maybe it was about to turn another page. Something felt different to her. It wasn’t just that she was alone in the cottage. Something in the unseen universe seemed to have shifted during the night.
Her wake-up shower was quick, and her selection of what to wear was simple, as was her entire wardrobe. She drove to the hospital under lumpy coastal clouds. She thought about Mike and couldn’t wait to see him. They rarely had been apart for very long during all their years of marriage. She had a wonderful and understanding husband. She intended to tell him so as soon as he arrived.
Erin expected to find her father as she had left him, comfortably nodded off in the hospital bed with an intersection of tubes, cords, and machines monitoring his vitals. What she found shocked her.
Her dad was curled up in a semifetal position, quietly whimpering. The sheet and blanket had fallen by the side, his backside was exposed, and he was shivering under the chilly air-conditioning vent.
“Daddy!” She rushed to his side, speaking strong and confident words. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re all right. Let’s get you straightened up and under the blankets.”
She pushed the nurse call button furiously and then pushed it again three more times for good measure. Pulling his arm forward as she had seen Marge do during their physical therapy sessions, Erin continued to speak firm, decisive directions, telling him how he was to use his arm to hold on to her and work hard to turn himself. “Come on, you can give me more than that. You can do this. One more twist. Come on, focus here. Use your muscles. Press harder. What are you holding back for? Show me what you’ve got.”
Jack’s cramped and feeble frame rolled over. Erin adjusted his paralyzed leg. She positioned his lifeless right hand in its usual curled position on his stomach.
“One more twist here, Dad. Let’s level your shoulders. Come on, don’t turn into a cream puff on me. Work it.”
He laughed.
At least she thought it was a laugh. It was an odd sound, but it wasn’t a wail. His swollen face showed a glimmer of relief.
“You liked that cream puff comment, didn’t you?”
He made another light, breathy sound.
“Well, what goes around comes around, Coach O’Riley. This is payback for all those years you called me a cream puff, not to mention every student you ever yelled at during your illustrious career on the field. It’s your turn to buck up, mister. You have to work every single muscle left in your body, and you have to do it now!”
With that, he strained forward with all the muscles in his neck popping out, and Erin was able to maneuver his shoulders the rest of the way. “One more time, hotshot.”
He gave a weak effort, but it was enough for Erin to prop up the pillows behind him the way he needed them to provide the most support for his head. Marge had taught her well. She knew what he needed.
A nurse appeared and pressed the button by his bed, turning off the signal. She didn’t look at all pleased.
Erin tried to remain controlled for her dad’s benefit. She didn’t want to cause a scene even though inwardly she wanted to pitch a fit. “My father has been neglected for some time, and I’d like to know when the last check was made on him.”
“I’ll have to pull his chart.” The nurse looked him over and lifted his wrist to take his pulse. “His rate seems elevated.”
Erin realized that the nurse hadn’t seen what she saw when she arrived. All the nurse saw was her father rightly positioned and tucked into the bed as if nothing were amiss.
“He was curled up in a fetal position when I arrived,” Erin stated firmly. “How could he have been so neglected that he ended up curled on his side and crying when I arrived? He had no blankets over him and was shivering.”
The nurse glanced at Erin with a look of compassion. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll check his temperature. He appears to be perspiring.”
“That’s because he just had a workout. I turned him. He helped, but I turned him.”
The nurse appeared to assume Erin was exaggerating.
“I’d like to see the doctor as soon as possible. I’d like to make arrangements to take my father home.”
“A hundred and two.” The nurse seemed to be speaking to herself after taking her dad’s temperature.
Erin paused. That was a pretty high temperature. Still, he wasn’t receiving the kind of attention he would at home. “When may I see the doctor?”
“I’ll check on that for you.” She didn’t look at Erin. Her focus was on Jack. “Are you comfortable, Mr. O’Riley?”
“Haaa.”
It was hard to tell if his response was a “Yeah” or a “Ha!”—as in “What a joke,” or if it was just his releasing a deep breath. His eyes stayed open after the nurse left.
He looked at Erin with the expression of a frightened child.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I should have stayed with you last night. I’ll get you home where we can take care of you. Mike is coming. He’ll be here for a few days. We’ll get you comfortable again. You’ll see.”
Jack lifted his left arm. His hand was shaking, but he managed to give her a wobbly thumbs-up sign.
Erin smiled. “You did good, by the way, with turning in the bed. You’re a strong man.”
He pointed a bent finger at her and managed a slight nod.
“I know. I make a good coach, don’t I?”
“Haaa.”
“Well, I learned from the best. What can I say?”
Her dad coughed a deep-chested, rattling cough. Erin quickly moved to do everything she knew to do and used the suction machine next to his bed to clear the mucus. She had to wonder if anyone had done this for him in the middle of the night. Was that why he had gotten so curled up and twisted? Had he coughed himself into that position somehow?
The next four days were long and arduous. The doctor put Jack on oxygen and continued to treat the viral infection that seemed to be elevating his temperature. He was having difficulty breathing so the doctor recommended he stay another night to watch for pneumonia.
Mike’s visit was at just the right time. He came directly to the hospital from the airport, and for the next few days, he and Erin formed a tag team keeping vigil beside Jack’s hospital bed.
It took three days for Jack to rally. The doctor released him to go home, saying that his symptoms were under control, and he had managed to dodge the pneumonia bullet. Erin called Marge, who agreed to be at the house waiting when Erin and Mike brought Jack home. Marge hooked up a portable oxygen unit Jack needed now due to the weakened state of his lungs. The three of them fell back into the familiar routine with the addition of more medications, occasional adjustments to the oxygen, and a more elaborate charting of his temperature readings. The chart beside Jack’s bed looked like the chart hanging on the wall at Jenny Bee’s Fish House that listed the rise and fall of the coastal tides as well as the moon’s stages.
With Marge back on duty, Erin and Mike slipped out for a late breakfast his last morning there. They found a corner table at Jenny Bee’s and attempted their first semiprivate conversation since Mike had arrived. Even though only two other locals were in the café at the time, Erin kept her voice low, and Mike followed suit. That is, until he had his first taste of the homemade raspberry jam. He turned around and gave a thumbs-up sign to Jo.
She grabbed the coffeepot and trotted over to refill his cup.
“Great jam,” Mike said. “Really nice.”
“One of our specialties here. You two want anything else?”
“No thanks,” Erin said. She watched as Mike sipped his industrial-strength coffee from a thick white mug and thought about when she had been there with her dad a year and a half ago. What a different man he was then. He was so eager for her to approve of his Hidden Cottage and all she had said was, “It’s nice.” She had different feelings toward the place now, mixed feelings. In many ways it had become her home away from home. She never expected that.
Erin realized that one of her dad’s wishes for the Hidden Cottage had come true the night they had the crab cookout and danced on the deck under the twinkle lights. Jack’s family and friends had gathered at Hidden Cottage and enjoyed one another and the place’s slow-paced beauty. No wonder his disappointment showed on her first visit when she brushed it off as a place her boys were too old to enjoy or too far away for her and Mike to visit.
Erin reached across the table and slid her hand under Mike’s so that his warm, strong hand covered hers. Just that sense of touch, of immediacy, comforted her.
“You are wonderful, you know. I don’t think any other woman in the world has a husband as understanding and supportive as mine is.”
“You keep thinking those good thoughts about me, honey. We still have a ways to go before the final chapter is over here.” Mike held up his last bite of sourdough toast slathered with raspberry jam. “Do they sell this stuff?”
“They have small jars by the cash register.”
“I’m taking some home with me.”
Mike pushed his emptied plate to the side of the table and stacked his silverware on top. Jo stepped over to their table to clear the dishes and placed a jar of jam on the table next to the check. Obviously she had heard Mike say he wanted to take some home.
“On the house,” Jo said. “Glad you like it. I miss Jack coming in and raving about all our jams. He was our biggest fan.” She reached for Erin’s empty plate. “Do you think Jack is still able to have visitors?”
“Yes, definitely. He’s declined quite a bit. But you’re welcome, Jo. I can’t guarantee my dad will be very aware of what’s going on, but he does love to see people when he is awake.”
“I’ve been meaning to come for a few weeks now, but with the end-of-the-season rush I haven’t gotten away. It’ll be quieter now that autumn is here.”
“Feel free to come over any time you want,” Erin said. “You can let anyone else who asks know the same thing. All my dad’s friends are welcome.”
“I’ll pass the word around.”
Jo walked away, and Erin noticed that Mike left an especially generous tip for her. “That was nice of you,” she said as they walked outside into the brisk air and slipped into the car.
“Well, she gave me the jam. Besides, places like that remind me of my busboy days, and I feel for anyone who is counting on tips as part of their income.”
Mike started the engine on his old BMW and patted the dashboard. “I’ve missed you, girl. Hope you’re doing okay up here during the cold nights. I’ll have you home and back where you belong soon enough.”
“Should I be hurt that you’re saying things to your car that I wished you were saying to me?” Erin teased.
Mike gave her a side grin. “I’ve missed you, too, girl. You know that. And you also know that I can’t wait to have you back home and in our warm bed each night where you belong.”
“That’s more like it.”
As Mike drove, he looked straight ahead. “You made the right decision when you chose to stay on here. You’ve done a great job of walking through this valley of the shadow of death with your dad. You can’t do anything more for him than what you’re doing. I don’t think he will be able to hold on much longer.”
She only hoped that moment didn’t come before her brother arrived and had a chance to say his good-bye.
18
Wishing you always
Walls for the wind,
A roof for the rain,
And tea beside the fire;
Laughter to cheer you,
Those you love near you,
And all that your heart may desire.
Instead of returning directly to Hidden Cottage, Mike drove to a lookout peninsula area he said he had heard about. The peninsula contained a park run by the state parks system. That fact was quickly evidenced by the well-maintained parking lot and restroom facilities. Only two other cars were parked there. They climbed out of the car and walked across a wide, open grassy area to a point that suddenly dropped off, just as it did at Hidden Cottage. Tumbled, petrified black lava rock formed the side of the lookout that provided a spectacular view of the coast for as far north and as far south as they could see.
“Look.” Mike pointed to the water where gently rolling waves seemed to bob in rhythmic measure to the place where the volcanic rocks met the sea.
“What am I looking at?”
“Keep watching. Down there in the waves. Do you see them?”
Erin shielded the sun with her hand and tried to see what Mike was referring to. When she did, she laughed aloud. Three sleek gray sea lions were frolicking in the easy-rolling waves. Their actions resembled the same sort of playful diving and flopping about that Erin and Mike’s three sons did when they were young and would tumble around in the waves at th
eir favorite bay in Laguna.
“Which one should we name Joel?” Mike asked.
“The one who keeps flapping his side fin, of course. Grant is the mellow one who just bobs along in the midst of the other two. And Jordan there is showing off for the other two. Our three sons, right there.”
The trio seemed to disappear as a large wave eased its way over them. A moment later they popped up and sounded off with a round of sea lion bellows that made Erin laugh. The joy of life as it is given to every living creature made her feel renewed. For days she had been calculating the measurements of life only in temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and units of saline solution hung from a drip bag. This front-row view of life without any visible limitations just made her happy. Very happy.
She and Mike stood for a long while with their arms around each other, drinking in the immense view, feeling the wild wind in their hair, and watching the carefree sea lions do what they were created to do. The agile creatures made it clear that they were in their zone, and for them, life was a breeze.
An older couple wandered near the edge where Mike and Erin stood. The man had a pair of binoculars and was intent on viewing the horizon.
“Did you see the sea lions?” Mike pointed out the triplets as if he were the proud explorer who had first made the discovery of this place of extreme beauty.
“Oh, Harold, look. He’s right. Some sea lions are right there near the rocks.”
“Hold your horses, Martha. I’m trying to see those whales.”
The woman turned to Erin and Mike. “We were told this was the best place to see the migrating whales.”
“Gray whales,” the man added without removing the binoculars from in front of his eyes. “They come this way every year and head down to Mexico. All the way from Alaska. How’s that for survival of the fittest?”
“Our son is an oceanographer.” The woman turned to face Erin, as if she had to explain her husband’s recitation of facts. “He goes out on ships and studies the whale pods.”
“He’s a big flake,” the man said, still keeping his eyes pressed to the binoculars. “Good-for-nothing kid who finally managed to find a job. That is, if you call recording whale sounds a real job. He’s an idiot.”