Chapter 7
Steve's eyes shot open as his father burst into the room. Mark spun around to look up at the TV mounted high in the corner of the room and Steve could see his relief when he was presented with nothing on the screen other than a pair of TV chefs.
"Worried you were missing Star Trek?" Steve joked, though he sensed there was a more serious reason for the visit.
"Ah, no, no, nothing, it's OK" Mark huffed.
"C'mon dad, what am I missing?" Steve raised his eyebrows. When Mark didn't answer Steve continued "This isn't fair dad, you know I can't press the damn buttons on the control anymore, do you want to tell me what I'm missing or do I have to get the nurse to come in and channel surf for me?"
Mark sat on the edge of the bed "there's been another murder"
"Ah God, where's Cheryl?" Steve asked frantically. Mark tried to work out if Steve's breath was ragged or if his voice was just laced with concern. "Dad" Steve snapped "can you call Cheryl?"
"Her mobile's off." Mark massaged his brow. Steve began to pant and Mark recognised what could be the start of a panic attack. "Steve, Steve" he began soothingly "Cheryl is probably working the case, there is nothing we can do except wait." Steve's breathing didn't soften "Steve, listen to me, I want you to take deep, regular breaths" he waited a moment then prompted "c'mon, deep and regular, in through your nose, out through your mouth".
Steve followed his father's orders, again smiling inwardly at the pre-natal class image. When he'd relaxed a little he began with a barrage of questions "Where was it? What are they saying about the victim? Do they have him, anything on him?"
"Steve I really don't know any details just…."
"Put a news channel on" Steve demanded "those damn vultures are bound to be there"
Mark found the remote control on the bedside cabinet and flicked through the channels, stopping when he found a station carrying the story. The wavy haired reporter in a cheap suit stood behind the police cordon, Mark turned up the volume and the pair joined the man mid sentence.
"…according to neighbours. Another witness has told of shouting, two possibly three people arguing with the victim in or around this property on numerous occasions prior to this evening, and I quote "You hear it all the time, they're screaming and shouting at each other. I didn't think tonight was any different, and then I heard the sirens". To recap, a woman, believed to be the owner of this house on Phillip Drive, was found stabbed to death earlier this evening, LAPD are holding two men for questioning. Although the woman was stabbed, detectives at the scene are playing down any links to the recent 'voodoo killings'. Now back to Roger in the studio".
Mark turned the volume down and turned to Steve, "We might be worrying about nothing here"
"Sounds like a domestic" Steve agreed "but if it was our guy the LAPD would be keen to keep it quiet, play down any links."
The door creaked open and Cheryl appeared shyly in the doorway "I can come back" she offered on seeing Mark.
"Not at all, come in" he smiled in relief, standing up to greet her. Her eyes flicked to the TV, a still of the crime scene sitting above the anchorman's left shoulder.
"What's the story?" Steve asked
"Gruesome, but not our guy" she replied still staring at the TV. She snapped out of her apparent trance and turned to Steve. "I thought Jesse would have told you"
"I haven't seen him", Steve snapped, angry that his young friend could fail to tell him something like this.
"Well" she continued "middle aged woman, we've got her husband and brother-in-law in custody. Some drug thing going on, probably they were using her place and she got sick, wanted a better cut or out all together. Seems things got pretty heated which is nothing new for the family, they've all got records as long as your arm. But when the guys in uniform saw the place they thought they'd better give us a call, it's standard on all stabbing cases now."
Steve managed half a smile, he'd been in hospital hardly anytime but he felt so out of touch with the investigation. Mark took the pause in the conversation as a chance to make a diplomatic exit. When he was gone Cheryl pulled a chair up close to the bed and sat down. "How are you today?"
"OK" Steve lied. The pair sat in silence for a while.
"I guess you're probably tired after the plasma exchange?"
"I didn't have one today, they thought I needed a break, I'm going to switch to every other day instead".
Cheryl wasn't sure if there were any implications with that decision but decided not to pry. The silence crept up on them again, but within a few minutes a conversation sparked, centred mainly on their mutual contempt for crime scene reporters. Though she enjoyed spending time like this with Steve she was concerned that heated monologues on the press would tire him out and so she let the discussion slowly die.
She could see Steve's deterioration though it had been less than twenty-four hours since her last visit. He had lost all feeling in his hands and arms now and wasn't even strong enough to sit up in the chair. Instead he was reclining on the bed, his head hanging heavily to the left, resting on a small cushion on his shoulder. He screwed his eyes up tightly and attempted to raise it a little, Cheryl shot him a worried glance. As she did Steve's head left the cushion but he soon found himself with his chin drooped down onto his chest.
"Damn it" he muttered.
"Here" Cheryl stood up and cradled his head in her hands. Unsure what to do next she looked towards the door "I'll be right back"
"No" but Steve's protests were too late. A moment later Cheryl returned with a nurse.
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"It's OK, you did the right thing" Mark assured her as they stood outside Steve's room.
"When they said he'd be better off fully lying down he seemed pretty angry at me, I mean he just flipped Mark. I don't want to go back in there and upset him. I've been doing enough of that lately."
"It's not your fault, and the way Steve is, he is better off lying down. It was just a matter of time, he'll understand that."
"All done" the last nurse called as she left Steve's room "Dr Jones will stop by first thing in the morning".
"Thanks Rachel" Mark replied. Cheryl wrapped her arms around herself as Mark coaxed her into the room with him. Steve was now lying almost flat out on the bed.
"Comfortable?" Mark asked his son, but Steve didn't reply. "You knew if your neck got any weaker it was this or a neck brace, you really are better off…"
"Lying down" finished Steve. He cast his eyes across to Cheryl. Seeing the contemptible look on his face she turned and brushed past Mark.
"Is that what you want?" Mark demanded gruffly when Cheryl was out of earshot. "Steve?"
"What?"
"To upset Cheryl, to drive her away like this?"
"No"
"OK, then you'd better buck your ideas up." Mark paused. "I don't pretend to know how hard it is for you to be lying there, but I know how hard it is to see you like this. She cares about you Steve, colleague, friend, I don't know what. But any way you look at it, Cheryl needs and deserves your support and understanding as much as you need and deserve hers."
"Lecture over?" Steve shouted.
"I'm done, you got anything to say?" Mark answered back just as angrily.
"Do you like her?" Steve whispered
"Cheryl?" Mark was thrown by the change of direction
"Of course Cheryl"
"Yes, I like her. She's friendly, humorous, intelligent" Mark smiled inwardly as he saw the grin beginning on Steve's face. "Beautiful" he pushed "attractive".
"OK that's enough" Steve joked.
"I like her a lot, though, I'm guessing, not as much as you do?"
"Two detectives in the family" Steve smiled.
"Are you two…., I mean, what exactly is the situation with you two?"
"The situation is none of your business"
"Oh" Mark knew when he'd pushed too far.
"Seriously, I don't know what's going on dad" Steve paused. "Everything seems so hopeless right now. The investigation's a screw up, Cheryl's stressed, Master's is hacked off, neither of them want to bother me with the details so I'm left lying here like a fifth wheel. Cheryl stops by every day" Steve smiled and his tone softened "I just love talking to her, even if there isn't much to say you know?"
"I know" Mark nodded, trying to conceal a smile.
"But these last few days, I don't know what's got into me. I feel so tired and when she's here I end up saying the wrong things. Yesterday I…."
"What?"
"Yesterday Cheryl was giving me a drink and I dribbled some. Dad, it's so stupid but I couldn't stop myself, I shouted her out. When you came in today, that look on your face then you said there'd been another murder I just thought…." Steve couldn't finish the sentence.
"You thought 'What if?'"
"Exactly. This lack of sensation, this stupid, useless body I'm stuck in. What if something happened to Cheryl? What if she needed me and I couldn't do anything to help her? Dad, what if something happened to her and the last thing she thinks of me is what a jerk I was, screaming at her over some spilt water?"
Mark waited for a moment then spoke slowly and calmly. "When I first met your mother she was dating somebody else you know. I thought long and hard about what I should do, if I should do anything at all. And then I thought to myself "What if we die tomorrow and she never knows how I feel?". Does that ring a bell?"
"I'm lying here thinking, what if we live forever and I never tell her how I feel?"
"In my experience" Mark said as he stood "the only regrets I've got aren't over mistakes I have made, they're over things I haven't done, words I haven't said, places I haven't been. Never be afraid to act on your feelings Steve. And just ask yourself, can you live with that "What if" inside you forever?
"No" whispered Steve, taken aback by his own honesty, then "dad, can you see if Cheryl's still here?"
"Time to tell her how you feel?" Mark enquired, feeling brave again.
"I think I'd better start with an apology and see how we go from there."
Mark leant forward and kissed his son on the forehead "I'll go and find her".
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That night Cheryl stayed at Steve's bedside as the two of them talked into the small hours.
Sorry,
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like sorry, like sorry
Forgive me,
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like forgive me, forgive me
But you can say baby
Baby can I hold you tonight
Maybe if I told you the right words
At the right times
You'd be mine
I love you
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like I love you, I love you
But you can say baby
Baby can I hold you tonight
Maybe if I told you the right words
At the right times
You'd be mine
Baby can I hold you tonight
Maybe if I told you the right words
At the right times
You'd be mine
You'd be mine
You'd be mine
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