I love you without knowing how, or when or from where
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride.
I love you because I know no other way
Than this: where I does not exist nor you.
So close that your hand on my chest is my hand
So close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
~ Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII
The State of Grace – Chapter Two
We are met on the third floor by a sinewy silver-haired gentleman in scrubs and cross-trainers who announces without preamble that the surgical team is concerned about damage to Danno's liver, spleen and kidneys. Further surgery may be needed in a few days to stabilize his pelvis otherwise the procedure was going well.
"Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight. You're not done? He is still in surgery? What are you doing out here then? You're supposed to be in there, taking care of my dad!"
"Just listen to what the doctor has to say, Grace." Steve reaches for my arms. I tend to flail just a bit when I get excited.
"No, Steve. Let go of me." Shrugging off the hands this time, "You don't understand. He has to be in there for Dad. Danno's going to be fine because this guy is going to march back in to the operating room and finish the job. Right, Doc?" Vaguely aware of my babbling but unable to stop, "You're gonna fix his hips and his spleen and his whatever else you said is broken. And he'll be good as new."
"Grace, you need to be quiet."
"But –"
"I said stop. NOW"
He doesn't use the Navy Commander voice on me often.
"Yes, sir."
"You were saying, Doctor..."
"Once surgery is over Detective Williams will be in ICU at least over night, more likely a few days as a precaution where we can better keep tabs on how his organs are functioning. Even if all goes well there will still be extensive rehabilitation involved in his recovery. You're right, though, Miss. I do need to get back. Rest assured, young lady, we are taking good care of your father. The nurses will notify you as we move him to recovery. We will get you in to see him just as soon as we can."
Wow, was the patronizing physician seriously about to pat me on the head?
More hurry up and wait. Unlike the Zen Pitbull who is my father, I do not wait well though I can be tenacious.
I have lost my composure twice already today. Shit happens when you spiral out of control. Correction, shit is going to happen anyway and you can't dealt with it adequately if you are spiraling out of control. I have got to get a grip.
To that end I attempt a walking meditation for focus and calm that devolves in an embarrassingly short period of time into simply pacing the room. Not long after that I am marching back and forth like I'm on the football field at band practice. Which reminds me,
"I have to go back to school and get my horn."
Steve has cast his thousand yard stare out the window toward a point that looks to be somewhere past the parking lot toward Diamond Head. He is leaning on his arms bracketing the windowsill for support and makes no sign he has heard me.
"Hey, Steve. My trumpet. I left it in the band room. You know the jerk director is gonna dock my grade if it stays there over the weekend."
"C'mon, Steve." Annoyed at being ignored, I tug at his arm and try to turn him round to face me. "We could go now even, you know, and come right back."
"I'm not going anywhere."
The razor-sharp softness of his tone cuts off my teenaged selfishness.
Here I stand, fussing over my stupid horn while my father lies broken in an operating room. And his partner looks –
Well, this is new.
I can see Clark Kent staring out through Superman's eyes.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I'll call someone. I don't want to leave him either. I just hate being here. I hate this so much."
He shudders a sigh and scrubs his face with one hand, pulling me in for a bear hug with the other.
"You gonna be ok, Steve-o?" I reach up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
"I'll be fine. I just pray to God he is, too"
There is a buzz coming from Steve's shirt pocket. My heart stutters for just a second before my brain registers that it is not the hospital pager but his cell phone.
"Chin. Hi – No, nothing new yet – Should be out of surgery soon – You locate Danny's parents? – They're where?"
Chin has tracked down my grandparents at Lake Havasu, Arizona. Apparently Grandma and Grandpa didn't go to Florida this year like normal snowbird retirees from New Jersey.
"They're coming here? OK, you get them a flight – Ok, that's good – Yeah, thanks – Bye." At least the color is back in his face, "So Grace you'll go with Kono after Judo tomorrow to pick them up?" Said as a question but it is not.
"She'll go with me where?" Kono appears in the doorway with food. "Grace, I got you a veggie sub on wheat, no cheese, oil and vinegar, salt and pepper. Baked chips. Diet Coke with lemon. Boss, you get a double meat club sandwich on Italian herb and cheese."
"To the Airport to get Grandma and Grandpa. Thanks Kono."
"Thanks. The Williamses flight gets in about 5. Do you mind?"
"Nah, Boss, its fine." Kono passes out the napkins and sandwiches, "How you guys holding up?"
"Just getting a little stir crazy waiting to see Dad." I mumble through a mouth full of sandwich. "I think he's pretty freaked" indicating with my elbow toward Steve who takes his sub and soda back to the windowsill. "Ironic much? That it's not the Yakuza but some dumbass driver who takes down one of the invincible Five-0. How messed up is that?"
This isn't unfamiliar territory but it feels like I've never been here before.
"No kidding." Kono settles down at the table next to me and helps herself to my potato chips, "Hey, Steve, I talked to Goshi. Had the most pending stuff shifted to HPD so we don't lose momentum on the investigations. Governor's office green-lit them sending over another detective to help out while Danno is out"
"No need to do that..."
"Oh, yes there is. Your priority is Danno. You'll be worth next to nothing at work until he is better. Don't argue. You know I'm right. Josh and I can't run the department by ourselves. This way we will only be down one and a half crime fighting geniuses."
"You bucking for a promotion, Kalakaua?"
"No, Boss. The State couldn't pay me enough to do your job."
Three ravenous bites into my sub an orderly pops her head in the room. "Excuse me. You're the family of Daniel Williams? He is out of surgery. The doctor says you can see him now."
And there goes my appetite.
Dr. Cross-trainers is waiting outside ICU. He won't let us all go in at once, says he prefers one at a time for short visits to let dad rest. "Commander McGarrett, I'll update you and your daughter on Daniel's condition after you both have had some time with him."
"Sure, Doctor. Whatever you say. Thank you."
He directs us past the nurses' station to the sliding glass doors to Danny's room. The heaviness of Steve's hand on my shoulder now feels more like I am holding him up than his reassuring me.
Nothing in that bed looks like my dad. It is all tubes and monitors and bandages and traction. The steady beep of the heart monitor and the periodic hiss of the blood pressure cuff tell me all I need to know for now Dad is alive. I watch through the glass and let Steve go in first. His hand trembles as he reaches out to touch him but there is almost no exposed part of Dad that isn't somehow bandaged or attached to something. Steve finally settles fingertips on Danno's forehead, caresses his unbruised cheek and pets his fingers slowly through dad's hair. I can't hear what Steve is saying but I see the wetness on his face from tears he does not pause to wipe away. Dad's eyes flutter open, and relief dawns on Steve's face like morning. He collapses his lanky frame into the bedside chair and bends his head close to Dad's; his lips still whispering something; his right hand never losing contact with that small bit of dad's skin; left hand lightly resting on the side rail. His eyes close as their lips touch. This is a moment of such intimacy that I turn my head, stare at the tiles in the floor.
A small movement in my peripheral vision draws my attention. The chair is empty. Steve is in the doorway. Frantically looking back toward Danno, our eyes meet and that wave of relief crashes over me too. Dad struggles to give me a weak smile, a wink and a raise of the eyebrows. His left arm is encased in a cast and his right is hooked up to monitors and IV's so the gesture he makes might either be the sign for "I Love you" or Shaka or both, I'm not sure. That's my Dad, the Accidental Hawaiian, reassuring me even from a bed in ICU. Crying and grinning like the village idiot I sign "I love you." right back at him.
"Your turn, Grace" Clark Kent is still there but now he looks more in control.
I stumble over myself in my rush to his bedside and land ungracefully in the unoccupied chair. "God, Danno...Daddy, you nearly... you could have.." I can't say the word.
"S'ok..."
"No, its not ok. I'm so stupid. I'm sorry."
"I know."
"I love you so much." Slipping my right arm up above the the pillow an gingerly touch my left hand down over his heart in an awkward embrace, I lean in for the first kiss I've given my father in a long time.
"Love you, Monkey." His speech sounds rough, gravelly like he's dehydrated, probably from the anesthesia, and labored, like it pains him to even think the words.
"You hurting?"
"Good drugs. Tired."
"I'll go then. I love you."
His eyes were already closed as I kissed him once more on the forehead.
Steve is already talking with the doctor whose real name seems to be Marc-something. The embroidered script on his white lab coat is half covered by a hospital ID badge I can't make out either.
It is Steve's glassy eyed expression that forces my attention to their conversation.
"Grace would be the most likely donor match – "
What exactly is he talking about me donating?
" – A lot will depend on how he responds to treatment. We have done what we can for now. Daniel's body will have to do the rest. Or we will be forced to consider a transplant."
