Page 33 of Full Circle

Nana grimaced and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to tug me to her chest. “It’s not your fault, Celeste. Pain isn’t gonna come on because a man’s daughter falls in love.”

My head snapped up in shock. “I—Who said--?” I stammered.

She rolled her eyes at me in a scoff. “Girl, do you think I don’t have eyes?! That Madden boy has been in love with you since the day I met him! You just took a lot longer to catch up!”

Automatically I shook my head, disliking how uncomfortable it felt to have my Nana pick up on something so intimate about me.

“Oh, hush! Ain’t nothing wrong with being in love. If I know one thing about your Daddy, it’s how much he loves you. He’d be happy as pie over you and Wesley finally getting together now that you both are old enough. Don’t let that devil woman poison your happiness!”

Nana never spoke so poorly of Desiree before. While I always suspected she wasn’t fond of my stepmother-to-be, she never outright expressed any dislike. Had I not seen Desiree’s comments in action about Nana’s shows, I wouldn’t have understood why she started watching them from her own television instead of ours. Manners were everything to Nana, and she never would have disrespected Daddy in his own home by voicing disdain for his marital choices.

“I’m scared, Nana,” I whimpered. “None of us have been to the hospital since Mama died. What if Daddy never comes home either?” A weight lifted off my shoulders from admitting that awful thought out loud as I began to tremble. I didn’t want to see Daddy in a hospital bed like Mama, hooked up to a bunch of wires and tubes, a shell of who he used to be. And despite the comfort she offered, I didn’t entirely believe Nana that I hadn’t been the cause of his pain. It was all too coincidental for him to wind up in an ambulance not even an hour after finding a teenage boy in my bed.

She pulled me closer, gently running her fingers through my hair as she rocked me. There was nothing she could say in that moment that would make me feel better because we both knew from Mama’s illness that health could turn in the blink of an eye. One day you’re fine and the next day you’re gone. Life was kind of bittersweet like that.

When my sobs turned to light tears that finally descended into sniffles, Nana gave me one last squeeze before hauling herself up off the floor. “You’ve let it all out, so now it’s time to get to the hospital and be the rock your daddy needs. We’ll get some answers about what’s going on.” She held out a hand to pull me up, which I took gratefully. “Go grab a book or two and meet me at the car.”

Nana might be a spitfire, but she always showed up when I needed her.

Smithson County General Hospital was just off the highway on the edge of the county line. Even seeing the sign at the road was enough to make my heart skip a beat. I vividly remembered the day we rushed Mama to the hospital when she woke up clutching her chest because she couldn’t breathe. Even though she was meticulous about my own doctor’s appointments and checkups, Mama never went to the doctor herself and hadn’t mentioned to any of us when she started having chest pain and heart palpitations. Although we all noticed when she started feeling fatigued more often, she chalked it up to the busy holiday season we had at The Comfy Cushion that year. By the time she woke Daddy up because she was unable to breathe, the doctors said she was already too advanced in her heart failure to do much of anything. Turned out she had been diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy, a somewhat rare complication from pregnancy and childbirth, shortly after I was born but hadn’t done any follow up with the cardiologist like the hospital advised. Mama wanted to put blinders on and will the problem away. By the time she realized she couldn’t rely on a miracle, it was too late.

The hospital was still as cold and sterile now as it was then. Stark white walls coupled with the bitter chemical smell of cleaning solvents made the atmosphere unwelcoming. Everyone in the lobby looked as though they were waiting for bad news, their faces drawn and haggard in the harsh fluorescent lights. A shiver ran down my spine, from fear or from nostalgia. Nana tucked her arm through mine and navigated us to the front desk where she asked for Daddy’s room.

Daddy looked every inch a corpse when I drew back the curtain in the emergency room bay, laying with his back flat on the bed, eyes shut and face gray. All the lights were off and the steady beeps from the monitors were low and faint, although it was hard to hear much of anything over Desiree’s shrill voice at the nurse’s station where she was arranging for Daddy to be admitted. For all their vitriol back at the house, Jeremy and Hillary were nowhere to be found.

Nana pointed to a chair just outside the doorway and indicated she was going to sit there so I could have a moment alone with him. I crept in as quietly as I could, scared to disturb him, but also desperate to have his soft eyes crinkle with a smile while he looked at me.

All the memories of Mama’s final days came flooding back, her too weak to even turn her head as I clung to her, begging her not to leave me. I hated seeing him like this and the wave of helplessness that washed over me—again—from the sight of a parent hooked to monitors. It was all too much, and I desperately wished Wes was here to lend me some of his indomitable strength. Daddy had been my rock for so long that I took it for granted I would ever be in this position again.

As gently as I could, I wrapped my hand around his, finding his skin cool to the touch. His breathing sounded shallow and labored, like it hurt even to expel the air. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes despite how hard I tried to hold them back. Crying didn’t do anything for Mama, so there was no way they’d do any good now for Daddy, but I was too overcome with fear to do anything else.

“I need you, Daddy,” I whispered, leaning down close to his ear to ensure Desiree didn’t hear me. “Please be okay.”

The curtain swung back loudly and Desiree stalked in, followed by two people in scrubs and my stepsiblings. Nana’s worried frown was visible in the doorframe behind them. The hospital workers started to adjust wires and lock the steel rails on both sides of the bed to prepare him for transport.

“Is it a private room?” Desiree barked at the gentleman closest to her.

“Room 615, yes, ma’am,” he replied anxiously. Both of them were scrambling about like their livelihoods depended on it.

We followed them out and turned to the right towards a larger hallway where the elevators were located. I planted myself at Nana’s side and swiped the tears from my cheeks as quickly as I could. A private room sounded expensive and unnecessary, but perhaps that was Desiree’s way of coping with her own anxiety. Glancing at Nana, I noted her forehead was wrinkled in concern and her lips molded into a firm line. I decided it wasn’t worth asking and worrying her further.

Once we got settled into Daddy’s new room on the sixth floor with a large window, en suite bathroom, and full couch, there was nothing to do but wait. Desiree stayed on her phone, only pausing to occasionally glare at me. She and her children claimed the couch, which made my blood boil. Nana didn’t have the best knees and didn’t deserve to stand. I flagged down a nurse outside and requested a chair for her after a while. Without anywhere else for me to go, I slid onto the floor to sit across from Daddy’s hospital bed.

Hours passed and although none of the alarms went off from the many monitors, Daddy’s breathing didn’t improve and he didn’t wake up. I started to nod off against the leg of Nana’s chair when a tall doctor swept into the room with a clipboard and Daddy’s chart.

“I’m Dr. Nielsen,” he said, speaking low so as to not disturb Daddy. “Who all do we have here?” His eyes were kind, but there was a weariness to his expression that told me he had long since accepted the sadness of his occupation.

“My name is Desiree Stanbrooke, soon to be Mrs. Hendricks.” Desiree held out the hand with her engagement ring as if the doctor needed proof of her statement. “These are my children.”

Nana cleared her throat loudly, sending a stern glare my stepmother’s way. “This is Celeste, his daughter. I’m his mother.”

“Former in-law,” Desiree interjected quickly.

Nana drew herself up to her full height, all five feet two. “He’s been like a son to me since he met my Rachel almost 25 years ago,” she retorted. “He hasn’t even known you six months.”

Dr. Nielsen glanced uncomfortably between the two women, sizing up who it would be best to address. The tension was thick enough to suffocate a cat, both Nana and Desiree shooting each other looks meant to incinerate. He swallowed thickly before continuing.

“I am going to run more tests,” explained Dr. Nielsen. “Given the frequency and the potency of these migraines, I have some concerns and want to rule out anything more severe.”

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