Page 52 of Forced Proximity
“Or, how about, after all of that, you skipping the funeral because it was just ‘too much,’” Finnian continued. “And I had to deal with all the fallout on my own. Do you know how hard it was to pick a casket for him? Do you know how hard it was to decide what to bury him with? Do you know how fucking god awful it was to watch him be lowered into the ground? No. Because your mental health was more important than watching our son be laid to rest. So fucking no, I’m not here because of your dad. And you shouldn’t be here, either, because he literally hates you for what you did. He’s probably hating every second of you being here.”
The woman must’ve realized just how upset Finnian was, because she finally said, “I think I’ll go.”
“You do that,” he growled.
When Finnian’s ex-wife disappeared around the corner, I said, “Do you want me to go check on the dad for you?”
He waited a long second to compose himself before he said, “No. I don’t have anything to do with them anymore, and he knows it.”
I had a feeling that wasn’t the case at all.
Spotting a rolling COW—computer on wheels—outside of a patient room two doors down, I walked toward it and pulled up the information while I walked back to him.
He stayed where he was, but didn’t lift his eyes.
“The surgery was performed around three this morning,” I said as I read the patient notes. “Patient is doing really good. Awake. Room 5533.”
Finnian didn’t move.
“Do you want me to go in there with you?”
Finnian said nothing.
I closed out, then caught Finnian’s hand. “Come on.”
He walked with me to the patient’s room—Bryson Castor—and I stopped with him right outside the room where I handed him my coffee.
I left him there as I went into the patient’s room and said, “Hi, Mr. Castor. How are you feeling?”
The man, older in his early seventies, looked up and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Could be better.”
“That’s pretty normal for recent heart surgery,” I admitted. “I’m the charge nurse here. You’ll meet your new nurse here shortly. They’re doing shift exchange and patient hand-offs. I just wanted to stop in and check on you.”
He seemed to be battling with something for a long moment before he said, “Is it possible to block a visitor?”
I inwardly smiled. “Of course. Who is it you want blocked from visiting?”
He cleared his throat and said, “My daughter.”
I nodded, not asking any questions. “What’s her name and description? I’ll get right on adding her to the no-contact list.”
He gave me her name and then said, “I…”
I patted his hand. “You don’t have to explain. I don’t need your life story unless you want to give it to me.”
He blew out a relieved breath. “Thanks. It’s a tough one and I’d rather not think about it.”
I smiled. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, that’s it,” he replied. “Thank you.”
After hitting the hand sanitizer on my way out, I rubbed it all over my hands and found Finnian exactly where I left him.
I gently pried my coffee from his hands as I said, “Come on.”
I took another hefty tug of my drink, sighing as I swallowed, and said, “This is seriously the best coffee ever.”
“I thought it was full of so much sugar that you might go into a coma, but who am I to deny you a good drink after the day we had yesterday?”
