Page 115 of Can't Kiss the Chef

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Byron

I’ve been in a hospital countless times over the course of my life. Normally it’s just to have dinner with my mom when she is working the night shift. The normal jovial feeling of getting to see my mom must have drowned out the sounds that bounce off the hospital’s wall.

If it’s not the paramedics rushing in a trauma patient, it’s a code being called or a machine beeping, signaling it’s working in tandem with the doctors to keep the patients alive.

Lola drove me and the guys over. Since only one of us could ride with my dad we all agreed Mom had to be the one to go with him.

We are all sitting in the waiting room. Each second feels like an hour. Not even Lola’s tight grip and reassuring brush of her fingers over my knuckles eases my anxiety.

“How are you doing, By?” Marcus asks.

“I’m okay.” I lie.

I’m definitely a nervous fucking wreck. This is the second time in a month that I’m sitting in a hospital waiting room wondering how much more time I’m going to have with my dad.

Instead of wallowing in the unknown I pull out my phone and open my notes app. I smile when I see the Friendship-Do list. I give Lola’s hand a squeeze. It’s hard to believe how far we have come.

I have about fifteen questions written down, but a million more running through my head when my mom taps my shoulder.

“You can go in now.”

She looks to my girlfriend and friends, “Since visiting hours are over in a half hour I think it’s best we just do family visits tonight.”

After hugs from my friends, my mom wraps Lola in the tightest bear hug.

“I’m so sorry all that food went to waste.”

“Don’t worry there is nothing better than leftover Italian food. Please call me if you need anything, okay?”

Her eyes drag from my mom to me. The stiffness in my neck loosens a little, knowing that Lola isn’t running but wants to help.

“I’ll try and come to your show tomorrow.”

Guilt eats at my gut. I feel like she is always there for me, but when it’s my turn to be there for her I just drop the ball.

“Don’t worry about it, Byron. Just go and enjoy the time with your dad.”

I don’t know if it’s been scientifically proven if you can hear your nerves or not, but today I became a believer. The small town hospital is bustling. Nurses and doctors coming in and out of the room. Family members and friends saying goodbye for the night.

Mom reaches out for my elbow when I get to Dad’s door.

“Byron.” My mom punches out my name like she has been trying to get my attention for a while.

“Sorry, Mom, what did you say?”

“I just want you to be aware that what happened at your house took a lot out of your dad. He’s going to look a little lethargic and may not be up for much. You were the first person he asked to see.”

Instinctively my arms go out and wrap around her.

“I love you. We will get through this together.”

She has been the only person that has been there for me every step of the way. This grief will be our biggest test. Knowing my mom will be by my side through all of this makes it feel a little more bearable.

“I love you too, Byron. I’m going to grab something to eat and give you two some alone time.”

I watch her vanish down the sterile hall before I take the last steps to the doorway of my father’s room. I tell myself I’m not going to cry. I’m going to enjoy this time.

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