“Please assume I know nothing.”
Her smile fell completely away, and the grim set of her mouth reminded me a little of Eugene’s when he was about to deliver bad news.
“Your father is on life support. He had a stroke three weeks ago, a very severe stroke, and had no heartbeat for over seven minutes as they attempted to revive him.”
The hospital administrator stepped forward, butting in eagerly, “Please know, Ms. Caravel-Tyson, we’ve done everything we possibly can. No hospital in the world could do more. We understand your father is a very important person—as are you—and his support to our institution has meant—”
“Yeah, she gets it. This place is the best.” Dan held out a hand, effectively cutting the man off. “Now isn’t the time. Okay?”
“Yes. Of course. I’m so sorry.” The administrator glanced between us, nodding, then took a step back, clearing his throat and looking a little embarrassed.
Dr. Merkel shot the man an impatient look, crossed her arms, and continued, “Mr. Tyson’s brain shows no frontal lobe activity. He is effectively brain-dead.” She paused here, as though waiting for me to cry, or gasp, or demonstrate some emotion.
I didn’t.
She continued, “He is only alive because of the measures taken, but—in our team’s opinion—he will not recover from his present state. He cannot breathe on his own. This means you should prepare yourself for when the life support measures are removed. He will not survive beyond a few minutes.”
I nodded, absorbing this information, and feeling very detached from it. “I understand.”
Dr. Merkel studied me, then asked, “Do you have any questions?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Do you want to go inside?” She lifted her chin to the glass box behind me, her tone gentle. “Do you want to say goodbye?”
“Goodbye?” I felt Dan stiffen at my side. “You just said he’d live as long as he’s hooked up to the machines.”
“Yes. That’s right. But, the order came down earlier today, your father is to be removed from life support tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Dan and I shared a look. “You’re taking him off life support tomorrow?”
“I thought that was why you were here.” Her gaze moved between the two of us. “To say goodbye.”
I shook my head, looking to Dan. This was all happening too fast, I couldn’t keep up.
“Thank you, Dr. Merkel. We’re going to need a minute.” He held me to him and I was grateful, because he felt like the only solid thing in the world at that moment. It wouldn’t have surprised me if the floor beneath my feet shifted into quicksand.
“Of course.” Her gaze lingered on Dan for a protracted moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Mr. O’Malley, was it?”
“That’s right.”
She seemed to consider him before asking, “Are you related to Eleanor?”
Dan drew in a quick breath, standing up straighter. “Uh, yeah. She’s my mom.”
The administrator perked up at this, a small smile brightening his face. “Nurse O’Malley is one of our best, we’re very proud to have her on our team.”
Dan gave the man a look that told me he was uncomfortable, but he only nodded, muttering, “Thanks.”
Dr. Merkel lifted her chin, looking at us like we were something new, her voice losing some of its formality. “Does she know you’re here?”
Dan shook his head. “No. Is she working tonight?”
“Your mom?” I looked at him, not following the conversation.
He gave me a contrite shrug paired with an apologetic smile, whispering close to my ear so only I could hear, “She’s an ICU nurse here.”
I started and my mouth fell open.
“I saw her earlier.” Dr. Merkel checked her watch. “I’m not sure, but I think her shift may have just ended.” Then she looked at me. “Do you want me to call her? You should lean on your family, let them take care of you.”
“I—I don’t—” I struggled to respond. Did I want Dr. Merkel to call Dan’s mom? A woman I’d never met? So I could lean on her?
I didn’t think so.
But I couldn’t quite think. And before I’d managed to pull my wits together, I felt Dan tense again, this time his fingers dug into my upper arm.
“Oh no,” he said quietly.
I looked at him. He was staring with wide eyes beyond Dr. Merkel, his posture rigid. I followed his gaze, and found the object—or rather, the person—of his focus.
A woman about my height, with auburn hair pinned in a bun, wearing scrubs with little puppies on them, was walking toward us. Eyes, big and brown and almost identical to his, swung from Dan to me.