Monk flagged a cab and arrived at Midland Memorial Hospital a few minutes after 1:00 pm. He checked in at the front desk to inquire about his father. The nurse tapped a few buttons on her computer, then said, "Let's see, it looks like Jack Monk is undergoing some testing right now. Are you a family member?"
"Yes," he said. "I'm his son, Adrian Monk."
"Adrian? Oh good, I'm glad you're here. His doctor has been wanting to see you."
"Me?" asked a puzzled Adrian.
"Yes. It appears your father named you as his Power of Attorney. You didn't know that?"
"No."
"Well, please have a seat. I will page the doctor and let her know you are here."
Adrian waited for the doctor, but he did not have a seat. Instead, he paced. When he wasn't pacing, he repeatedly touched a lamp in the waiting area, drawing curious looks from another couple sitting there. After what seemed like an eternity, he was approached by a woman wearing a white lab coat with reading glasses hanging by a chain around her neck, her salt and pepper hair in a tight bun.
She extended her hand. "Hello, Mr. Monk? I'm Dr. Susan Barnett. I'm your father's cerebrovascular neurologist, or in layman's terms, stroke specialist. Will you follow me please?"
Monk cleaned his hands with a wipe as he followed the doctor to a consulting room down the hall. After entering the room, the doctor took a seat at a table and gestured for Monk to take a seat across from her. She opened the file and put on her glasses.
"I'm glad you're here Mr. Monk. Your father named you as his Power of Attorney, and I will need to discuss with you, some decisions for his care, based on his wishes."
"Dr. Barnett, how…how is my father? I haven't heard anything since about 10:00 last night when I spoke to my brother."
She took off her glasses and leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. "I'm not going to sugar coat things, Mr. Monk. We are providing the best care we can for your father, but it is up to him now. The next 24 hours are critical. Do you understand what happened to him?"
"My brother just said it was a stroke."
"Yes. Your father was found unconscious yesterday afternoon by his neighbor. After he was brought in, the ER team quickly assessed that he had suffered a stroke. When a stroke occurs, the victim's brain is deprived of oxygen and the brain tissue is damaged. The longer the victim is deprived of oxygen, the more severe the effects will be. You can be very thankful he was found as quickly as he was. It could be what saved his life. Yesterday, we performed a CT scan and an MRI and determined that what he suffered is called an Ischemic Stroke. This happens when blood vessels in the brain become narrowed or blocked. This is good news because a stroke caused by a hemorrhage does not have as good of a recovery rate. Today, we ran blood tests and performed both an EKG and an Echocardiogram on his heart. It doesn't appear he has any blood clots there, which is also good news. We've also treated him with a thrombolytic, or clot-busting drug, to make sure we take care of the blockage in the brain. His vitals are good, so now we just need to monitor him and make him as comfortable as possible."
Adrian took it all in for a minute, then said, "Dr. Barnett, you said the next twenty-four hours are critical. How so?"
"Well," she said, "even though we are pleased with the results of the tests, your father remains in a coma. We won't know the full extent of the effects of the stroke until he wakes up, and the longer the coma lasts, the more extensive the trauma likely is, and of course, there is the possibility that he may not wake up at all."
Adrian sat back in his chair and gripped the armrests. He breathed deeply, trying to keep his emotions under control. "And if he does wake up, what then? Do you think he will fully recover?"
"With extensive therapy, your father still has a chance at a full recovery, but I will be honest with you, it could take weeks, months, even years. He was fortunate that the stroke occurred on the left side of his brain, which means it should not affect his speech as much as one who suffered a stroke on the right side. It will, however, affect motor function on the right side of his body, along with balance. You can also expect some dizziness and some pain, but again, we have great therapists here and at our outpatient facility to assist in his recovery."
"Thank you," said Adrian. "Now, when can I see my father?"
"He is in radiology at this moment. We are performing another CT scan to see how the thrombolytic is working on the blood clot in his brain. Once they are done, we will bring him back to the ICU and you can see him there. In the meantime, I have some paperwork I need you to sign. I also need to let you know that your father has a Do Not Resuscitate order here in his file."
Adrian nodded as he pulled out his pen and began to look over the papers. It was all he could do to hold back the tears.
By the time Monk was done signing the paperwork for his father, Jack had been settled back into the ICU. Dr. Barnett led him down the hallway to the room he was in. Adrian entered the glassed-in, sterile room and was assaulted with the unmistakable scent of hospital antiseptic. His father was attached to numerous leads, wires, monitors, and an IV. To Adrian, it seemed his father had aged ten years in the four weeks since he had last seen him. He knew his father was getting older, but for a seventy-four-year-old man, he had seemed exceptionally strong and healthy. Now, seeing his body ravaged by the stroke was quite shocking. Monk pulled a chair close to Jack's bed and reached out for his hand.
"Hi Dad, it's Adrian. I'm here now. Ambrose and Natalie wish they could be here too, but this all happened so quickly...we couldn't arrange it, and well, you know Ambrose couldn't have come anyway, but I came as soon as I could...I needed to come." He wanted to run like he had when Natalie lay in a similar hospital bed after her accident, but he was determined to stay by his father's side. He gripped the arms of his chair and fought the feeling that his father was going to leave again...this time for good. He fought his own mind until he was emotionally spent, and the only thing left were the tears threatening to spill. He could no longer hold them back, so he allowed himself to weep. When he could cry no more, he pulled out his handkerchief and cleaned his face, then folded it back into a neat square. Just as he was returning it to his jacket pocket, the door opened, and a young police officer stepped into the room.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I'll come back later."
"It's ok," said Adrian, sitting up. "Can I help you?"
"I came to see Jack. I'm his neighbor, Grant Matthews." He walked across the room with his hand outstretched."
Adrian shook his hand. "I'm Adrian Monk, his son."
"Oh, Adrian," said Grant with a smile, "from San Francisco? The famous detective?"
"Well, I don't know about famous..."
"I'm so glad to finally meet you," he said, shaking Monk's hand vigorously. "I wish it could be under better circumstances, but I've heard so much about you. You have been a great inspiration to me. See, I'm patrol right now, but I'm in training to become a homicide detective."
"That's great," said Adrian. "Best of luck to you." Then, he put his finger to his temple and turned back to the young police officer. "You said you've heard all about me? Here, in Midland?"
"Well, of course here in Midland. Your father talks about you all the time. I don't know how many times he's told and retold the story of how you solved that case with the trucking company when you went out with him on the road at Christmas. He's very proud of you, you know."
Adrian was quiet for a moment, surprised and touched to hear that his father was truly proud of him. Even though Jack had said as much when they almost drove off that cliff in his truck years ago, he had been under the notion most of his life, that he was a disappointment to his father. He looked down, fighting back tears once again.
After an awkward silence, Grant quietly asked, "So, how is he doing?"
"It's touch and go. His doctor says the next twenty-four hours are critical, but we won't know the full extent of the effects of the stroke until he wakes up...if he wakes up."
"Oh," he said quietly. "I knew he was bad off when I found him. I'm sorry I wasn't able to stay with him longer, but I had a shift."
"That's understandable." Then, he looked intently at the young man. "I'm just glad you found him." He paused. "How did you know? What made you look for him?"
"Oh, I went over to his house yesterday afternoon because Hero had been barking ever since I came home from the station. He just wouldn't let up, so I began to suspect something might be wrong. I went over to find out what was going on, and that...that's when I found him. He was lying on his kitchen floor. It looked like it had happened while he was making himself some lunch. After calling 911, I tried calling you. When I couldn't reach you, I called your brother."
"I was out of cell range...wait, who's Hero?"
"Hero?" asked Grant. "That's his dog. He's a one-year-old golden retriever."
"A dog?" Adrian wondered if he'd heard right.
"Yes. Didn't he tell you? He just got him a couple of weeks ago. His doctor had been on to him for years about getting more exercise and getting his blood pressure down, so after he came back from California, he got Hero so he would have a reason to go for walks every day."
"Hero," said Adrian slowly. "He really lived up to his name, didn't he?"
"Yes, I guess he did."
"Where is he now...the dog? Is someone taking care of him?"
"Don't worry," said Grant. "He's over at my place. He fits right in with my labradors."
"That...that's great. Thank you."
After a few more minutes, Grant Matthews left with a promise to come back after his next shift. Monk had taken a liking to him, not only for possibly saving Jack's life, or for his obvious admiration of Monk's success as a detective, but he seemed to be a sincere, dedicated young man, and a good friend to his father. He shook his head, smiling a little as he remembered their conversation. He never could have imagined his father with a dog. He barely tolerated the turtle Monk's mother had insisted on keeping, and to think of the timing of getting the dog, and the dog's name...
Adrian sat looking at his father and listening to the steady whir and swoosh of the machines he was attached to. The only movement in the room was the rhythmic rise and fall of Jack's chest, and the only voice, his own as he silently tried to untangle the knot of thoughts and emotions currently gripping his mind. Adrian was aware of his profound sadness at the thought of losing his father, but he wondered where it was coming from. He honestly hadn't expected the depth of his emotion, but from the moment he heard Ambrose's voicemail, it had been there, along with an all-consuming need to see him again, even if Jack never knew he had come.
Adrian knew his father's abandonment was a life-changing moment for his mother, Ambrose, and himself, and not in a good way. It was a complete and permanent change for his home and his family. His mother never fully recovered, and he was certain her early death was a result of it, while he and his brother would be forever afflicted with, not only the insecurity and unworthiness that came as a result of experiencing abandonment from a parent, but also life-altering fears and compulsiveness. While the tendency towards this behavior was probably there as a result of genetics, inherited from their mother, the aftermath of Jack's actions drew them out, whereas a loving, stable family environment could have kept those tendencies at bay, much as Adrian had witnessed during his marriage to Trudy, and now Natalie. It was easy, Monk thought, to tell himself that his anger and refusal to forgive his father were justifiable, but the truth was, he was tired of drinking the toxic, mixed cocktail of anger, sorrow, and bitterness.
His invitation to Jack to spend Christmas with them came out of a hope that he could put his feelings aside once and for all. Marrying Natalie and becoming a father had made him happier than he had ever imagined. It created in him a hope to find that same happiness in all areas of his life, including his relationship with his father. Unfortunately, the reemergence of Jack Monk into his life had served to open old wounds that he thought had healed. He tried, for the sake of his family, to accept his father, even love him, but he had been weak. Try as he might, all he could feel was the sorrow and bitterness brought on by a lifetime of hating the man he should have loved the most. So, what about the sadness he felt as he sat now at his father's side? Did it come out of a sense of loss, of grieving the childhood that had been so violently ripped from him, or perhaps he was angry at himself for his inability to let go of the anger that still brewed in his heart? After all, Ambrose had forgiven him and moved on years ago. Why couldn't he?
As he sat keeping vigil at his father's side, Monk allowed his mind to drift through childhood memories. Despite the predominant pain that flowed through those thoughts, there had been happier times. There were good memories of when Jack was still at home. Monk fondly remembered the times they would all sit on the couch for the occasional tv show and the nights of seemingly endless board games they would play together as a family. He remembered the sounds of laughter and the taste of the popcorn with cinnamon that his father would make. Then, there were the nights he and his father would sit on the couch together or even lie on his bed and read Sherlock Holmes, neither dreaming of the significant influence those books would have on Adrian's life. At one time, Jack Monk had very much been a family man, obviously loving his wife and sons. What happened that drove him away? Would Adrian ever really know? Those questions ran through his head, but the bigger question was, did it really matter now? He didn't have an answer as he allowed the pain to engulf him. All he knew at that moment was, he hoped God was listening to the prayers of his wife and friends. He hoped beyond hope this would not be the end of the story of Jack Monk.
Natalie had just started supper when she heard a key turning in her front door. She jumped as a dozen thoughts went through her mind, but then she heard the sweetest voice.
"Hey mom, guess who's home?"
"Julie!" Natalie ran to the front door with Sophia on her hip. Julie dropped her bags and warmly embraced them both. Sophia lunged for her sister, who happily took her from her mother's arms.
"What are you doing here? Don't you have classes tomorrow?" asked Natalie as they walked into the living room.
"I do," said Julie, joining Natalie on the couch, "but I've been kicked out of my dorm until they fix a problem with some mold they found. They gave us an option to do our classes online until the mold is cleaned out. One of my friends said I could stay with her at her apartment, but after you called me this morning, I decided to take the opportunity and come home. That is ok, isn't it?"
"Ok? It's wonderful! I've missed you so much, and I don't know how long Adrian is going to be in Texas. I was already feeling lonely."
"I figured," said Julie, smiling. "You two are usually joined at the hip, so I knew you'd be missing him big time."
Natalie sighed. "Thank you, sweetie." Then she hugged her daughter again.
"Speaking of," said Julie, "have you heard from him? Any word on grandpa?"
"Nothing new really," said Natalie sadly. "I haven't been able to talk to him yet, just a couple of quick texts when his plane landed and after he met with Jack's doctor. Jack is still unconscious. I guess it was a pretty bad stroke. They won't know the extent of it until he wakes up...if he wakes up."
"Wow," said Julie softly. "How is Dad doing?"
"It's hard, but he's handling it surprisingly well, for him anyway."
"I can't believe he got on a plane by himself."
"Me neither, but he insisted on going alone. He said it was something he had to do."
They were both quiet for a moment, then Julie looked over at her mom as Sophia played with the zipper on her jacket. "He's come a long way, Mom. He'll be ok."
Natalie smiled at her oldest and wondered when she had grown up. She put her arm around her shoulders and leaned her head against Julie's. "I'm so glad you're here."
Sophia stopped playing with the zipper and looked up at her big sister. "Ool, ool" she said.
"What's that Sophia?" asked Julie
"Oolie! Oolie!" she said, patting Julie's shoulder. Then, she grinned her toothy grin, proud of herself for learning a new word.
Natalie and Julie both laughed. "That's right baby girl," said Natalie. "Julie is here for a few days."
"Mom! She's growing so fast and saying more every time I see her."
"Oh, that's not all she's doing," said Natalie.
They spent the next hour playing together on the living room floor until hunger set in and they finished the supper Natalie had started, talking and sharing the work as they had for so many years. As they sat at the table, sharing their meal, Natalie watched her now-adult daughter help her little sister as they ate. She had just about given up on the possibility of ever seeing Julie become a big sister. Seeing that happen had become one of her greatest joys, and Julie took to her new role almost as naturally as Adrian had taken on fatherhood. Adrian...her thoughts never strayed far from her husband. She wondered how he felt and what he was thinking. She knew he wouldn't leave his father's side, but she hoped he would eat and sleep and take care of himself. She hated that she couldn't be there to make sure he did. Then, Julie's words came back to her, "He'll be ok." She sighed, knowing it was true. She smiled as she watched her two daughters interact. It would be good to have them under the same roof for a while, but she couldn't help but long for the day when she would have her whole family together again.