Call me sick or crazy or whatever but I like hospitals. No matter what was turning to shit in your life you could guarantee someone else in these enormous buildings was 10 times worse off.
Dread's weighing me down man, making every step I tread like my toes are made of led. Seeing your father shouldn't fill a person with such dread but my father fills most people with dread.
I'm not afraid of him though, he's raised his hand to me once but stopped with a fraction of an inch to spare. I probably should be. That was the last time we spoke. The last time I saw him was two months ago at my grandma's funeral. I feel bad not seeing her in 4 years...or is it 5? Life's got kind of blurry. Anyway I regret not coming to see her when she was diagnosed with lung cancer, I called a lot but I didn't want to risk a confrontation with my dad.
This is an opportunity I couldn't let pass by. We're both stubborn as hell, wouldn't dare to be the first to make contact, so when St Thomas contacted me as his next of kin and said he'd been admitted with server burns I knew immediately that he needed me whether we liked it or not. All of the contact with none of the apologies. Plus it's a legitimate reason to get out of Malibu for a while, hubby's lawyers are getting nasty, like they didn't write the damn pre-nup themselves.
I came to the door the receptionist directed me too. When I told her I was here for Ernest Darby she gave the once over, maybe looking for my White Hate ink. He's sleeping. He's, like, at maximum level un-scary when he's sleeping.
I don't know how long I hung out in the doorway watching him sleep, my mind ventures elsewhere, to happier times.
"Hey Papa Bear" I grinned, leaning against the door frame.
His mouth stretched out into an even wider grin than mine. Your dad being glad to see you is a feeling that I would spend a good few years trying to replicate in the forms of shopping, Boxer-yogalates-size, the latest 'super food', the latest cocktails, the latest diet, occasional drug use...everything a Malibu trophy wife does with her day.
"Bitsy Bear" he greeted, pulling me into a tight hug, "Whatcha doin' here?"
"Step-Dad's in jail, tax evasion. So Mama Bear checked her ass into rehab for 'stress' or some shit so I decided to come spend the summer with my favourite dad!"
He looked taken aback and I did realise at the time that it was a lot to take in.
"That's bull shit" he grinned, holding the door wide open for me like the gentleman he is, "I know you're crazy for your Dr Daddy"
"True but you are still my absolute favourite. It's like I love my Flyer but my Piranha's always gonna be my number 1"
"I assume that's a surfing thing" he laughed, closing the door behind him as we moved to the living room.
"Oooo, gold star for you"
"Yeah, yeah. Now what's goin' on?"
I took a breath as I flopped down on the couch like a Raggedy Anne.
"Turns out Step-Dad's so damn rich 'cus he doesn't pay taxes on all them boob jobs he's so damn good at"
"You should stash that sweet ride somewhere, IRS sees it it'll be the last you see of it" he said jerking a thumb towards the window referring to my as red as red could get 1966 Mustang.
"You gave me that, they can't take it!"
He shrugged,
"You'd be surprised what 'The Man' can do my little lamb. So what's going on with Lenore?"
"She had a total meltdown at the bail hearing, it was, like, epic. Anyway she's gone to that 'spa' where you can score anything and everything. It got lonely quickly"
"So no bail for Step-Dad?"
"Nope, he's a flight risk"
"I gotta wonder, sweetheart, why spending the summer in this 'piece of shit nowhere town' beats hanging -10 with your board and your bro's"
"True, they're gonna be lost without the gnarliest quebee in all Orange Country but I thought it'd be cool to come here, spend some time with you Pre-College"
I didn't want to tell him that I'd been excommunicated from my crew for beating on what I thought was a Nicorico but turned out to be the Big Kahuna's little sister, we had a killabrenda over hacking. God, I used to sound like a fucking idiot back in the day, I still surf but I dropped the lingo a while back. Well, most of it, I'll still call Paddlepuss like I see it.
I didn't want to tell him because it still hurt like hell, being rudely awakened to your actual position on the food chain. I was the Queen of Pepper Beach and I got treated like a Squid because Hounddog McQueen can't keep his eye on his little Sis, fucking Judith that she was! I mean I was out there on the Dawn Patrol and-
Know what? I'm still too mad about it to talk about it like a sane person, let's just drop it. My whole life was falling apart, I just didn't want to admit it.
"So we got a decision out of you?"
"It's Cornell, there wasn't really a choice"
"I'm proud of you and all that shit but you really gotta go all the way cross country? Aren't you gonna miss surfing?"
"I'll live, I hope. And you're just gonna have to get me a really good Cell package"
I stood and sat on his lap, his arms wrapping themselves around me.
"Don't get to see you enough as it is" he mumbled into my neck,
"I know, I hate that. Donovan's, like, my bud but he's not you" I whispered back.
"What are you doin' here?" snapped me out of my memory, he was awake.
"Hospital called me, I'm your 'next of kin' or whatever"
There was this long moment where neither of us dared to speak until he eventually asked why I'd come.
I shrugged,
"To see if you're ok?" I suggested,
"You care?" he said and I imagine that his eye brow would have gone all Zoolander if his face wasn't covered in bandages.
"Yeah, I care"
"Can't say I'd run to your bedside if I got word you'd been caught up in a porn studio fire"
"Oh bullshit, you know you would. I'm your only shot at a kidney...that we know of"
We were once again in a long stretch of silence.
"This is the most we've said to each other in 4 years"
I nodded. Yep, his last words to me were memorable though. I haven't been called a 'Spic fucking whore' since that night, like I said my life had been slowly falling apart for a while before but it had all been like a star dying, one final explosion finishing it off.
Kaboom.
I cut my visit for that day short, let it end on a reasonably amicable note but I'd be back tomorrow to see when I could spring him from that joint. It was so strange and ironic that their rooms were mere feet apart, the two men I have felt the most for in my entire life are, like, literally less than 40 feet apart and they don't even know it. I recognised him right away, I'd propped myself up and watched studied that face while he slept less than a hand full of times but I studied it so completely I'd know it anywhere. Had the door not been open I might have just walked past and never known he was there.
Jean Carlos Ortiz.
He broke my heart so fucking bad no one's ever been able to put it back together again.