Perfect Regret (Bad Rep #2)(42)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

And then I hated myself some more for feeling happy at all. It felt wrong to garner joy from anything right now.

I dropped Garrett’s hand once we came to the ICU. Because the first thing I saw was my brother and sister huddled together, their faces red from crying. I was struck dumb for a moment. I didn’t know what to do.

Garrett fell behind me, allowing me to approach them by myself but with the knowledge that he was right behind me should I need him. “Fliss, Gavin,” I said quietly. They looked up at me and both got to their feet, enfolding me in their arms.

I wanted to cry so badly. I felt the burning in my eyes and the tightness in my chest but for some reason, I couldn’t. It was as though my tear ducts had stopped working.

“He’s gone, Ri. Dad’s gone!” Felicity wailed into my shoulder as she squeezed me tighter.

“I need to go to find Mom,” I murmured, pulling back slightly.

“She won’t leave him. The nurses and doctors have tried to get her to let go of his hand but she just sits there, staring at him, as though he’ll wake up at any minute. We told Dad’s doctor we had called you and you would handle Mom. You always know what to do,” Gavin said and not for the first time I wondered which of us was the older sibling.

“I’ll handle it,” I promised. Felicity and Gavin let me go and I looked over my shoulder at Garrett who still hung back, careful not to intrude.

“Guys, this is my friend, Garrett. He drove me up here last night,” I said by way of introduction. Felicity gave him a watery smile and Gavin barely acknowledged him at all. Garrett came to sit beside my sister and reached out to touch my hand before I left to help my mother.

“I’ll be here,” was all he said and for me, for right now, that’s exactly what I needed to hear.

“Mom,” I said softly into the quiet hospital room. My mom was bowed over, her forehead touching my dad’s hand. I couldn’t look at my father just yet. I needed to keep my shit together so I could deal with Mom.

I walked slowly around the foot of the bed and sank to my haunches beside her. I rested my hand on her shoulder and leaned in close, my cheek resting on her arm. “Mom, please look at me,” I whispered.

My mom didn’t turn her head; she stayed bent over my dead father’s hand as though she were praying. If my mother were a religious woman, I would have assumed that was what she was doing. But Mom and Dad didn’t subscribe to “orthodox religious ideals,” choosing the beach and the waves as their God and church.

Nope, I knew this was a woman who had lost the most important person in her life and was now crumbling in on herself.

I shook her shoulder a bit, hoping to snap her out of it. The doctors and nurses were hovering outside the door. I knew they needed to take Dad’s body away. There were things that needed to be done, decisions that had to be made. But, sympathetically they were waiting on Mom.

“Come on, let’s go. You need to sleep. Get something to eat. Let Fliss, Gavin and me take care of you,” I said urgently, trying to get a reaction out of her. Mom shook her head and pressed a kiss to the cold hand in her grasp.

“I can’t leave him,” she cried, followed by a strangled moan that made me shiver.

“Mom, please. Come with me,” I begged. I put my arms around my mother, holding her. Finally, she turned into me and buried her face into my shirt. She began to sob as though she were the child and I were the parent there to comfort her.

I didn’t know when I would be afforded he luxury of letting my emotions out like that, so for now, I bottled it in and took care of the woman who needed me.

Over her shoulder, I chanced a look at my father. It’s true what they say, that death looks like sleep. Aside from the white pallor of his skin, Dad looked as though he were napping. The tubes and wires were gone. The machines had been turned off. The covers on his bed were pulled up over his chest as though he were chilly.

It was creepy and a discomfort filled me, making me look away and turn my attention back to my grieving mother.

“Can we go home?” I asked her and then I waited. After what felt like forever, she got to her feet, wiped her face and then slowly lifted my dad’s hand to her lips. I turned away, feeling like an intruder on this last moment she would have with her husband. The last time she would feel his skin on hers. The last look at the face that had been her constant companion for over forty years.

I went to the doorway and waited and thought long and hard about what it meant to love someone to the point of losing yourself when they were gone. I hadn’t loved Damien like that. Even though I had been upset and put out when he dumped me, I could recognize now that it was more about my wounded pride and being made to feel like a fool than anything else.

Yes, I had loved him. Yes, he had been a part of my life for over a year so of course I had been attached. But I had gone on without him. I had bounced back.

What had grown between my mom and dad over the years went beyond a love I had ever experienced. And even though I knew my mother would go on with her life, she would never truly heal from losing my dad. A loss like that wasn’t something you could get over. Not really. You just learned to live through the pain.

It scared me to think of loving someone so much that to lose them would be to only half exist.

My mother followed me out to the waiting room and the first thing my eyes were drawn to was Garrett, looking at pictures on my sister’s phone. He seemed impassive as usual while Felicity prattled on about her daughters. He nodded and made comments but his face revealed nothing.

Gavin jumped to his feet and rushed over to Mom. Felicity looked up and was then right behind our brother, clamoring to get to our mother. Garrett stayed seated, his calm, mellow vibe a balm on my jangled nerves.

He didn’t approach me. He simply inclined his head in my direction and gave me a small smile. I didn’t return it. I didn’t know how to right then. But I inclined my head back before turning back to my family.

17

I stayed in Port David for almost two weeks. Dad’s funeral had been scheduled for a week after his passing. Then I stayed around to make sure Mom was settled and doing okay.

The funeral was tough, just as I knew it would be. If I could imagine a hell, watching my father be lowered into the ground had to be it. In the first few hours after Dad died, I wasn’t sure if Mom would be able to make it on her own. She had seemed so small, as though she had shrunk in on herself.

My brother and sister hadn’t been much better. My brother seemed lost and all my sister did was cry. It got better when Felicity’s husband, Sam, showed up with the girls. My sister pulled herself together for her kids and Sam helped shoulder the load of planning Dad’s service.