Surprise
~*~
Julie sat quietly holding the hand of the man lying in the bed before her.
Outside the door, doctors and nurses walked by. No one ran, no one rushed. People in this ward of the hospital were not rushing. They were dying slowly and painfully. This was the ward of the terminally ill.
The room was so quiet when her father was asleep that Julie often wanted to scream as loud as she could if only to break the uncomfortable noiselessness.
A nurse entered the room.
"Hello, Julie, has he been sleeping long?" Her voice was too sugary and sweet. Almost pityingly so. Julie shook her head. Her father had only drifted off about an hour ago. She glanced at the clock. Quarter past five. She had to be at the hospital to meet Abby in forty-five minutes.
"Not too long."
"I hate to wake him, but you know the drill." Julie nodded painfully. She hated watching her father being woken up. The pain that etched across his face before he realized that she was there. Then there was the look of his own will – which was all he had left – trying to conceal his pain. And that was worse.
"Richard…" the nurse crooned in her obnoxiously sweet voice as she gently shoved his shoulder. Julie looked away until she heard her father talking.
"I don't need anymore of that medication," he insisted as he always did, the IV tube attached to the back of his hand shaking as he gestured for the nurse to let him in peace, "It won't help anyway."
Julie got up and walked to the window as she heard the nurse chastising her father lightly. He had to take the drugs; didn't he want to get better? She asked him the same stupid questions that he never answered.
A bird flew across the clear winter sky and Julie again checked the clock. Almost half past. It took almost 25 minutes to get to County from Northwestern.
"Dad," she said quietly from her spot at the window.
"Yes?"
"I was invited somewhere for dinner."
"That's nice." Julie approached the bed.
"I have to go," she said pulling on her coat.
"Have fun. What time should I tell Marilyn to expect you at?"
"I don't know. I'll call her."
"I'm glad you're getting out again, Julie. It's good for you to be social."
"I know, Dad," she said leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek before picking up her bag and heading out of the room, "See you tomorrow, Dad. I love you."
"Love you too, honey," he said and she could tell he was holding back tears. She left the room quickly so he wouldn't have to be embarrassed at her seeing him cry again. He had given up hope. He knew he was dying.
~*~
Julie felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she remembered what she had just overheard from within the lounge. She continued to walk briskly through the ER ignoring Abby's cries.
"She just showed up, Abby. You never even told me about her."
"I never thought I'd see her again. I'm sorry!"
"It's a little late to be sorry, Abby! She thinks she's coming to live with us. You got her hopes up. What do you want to say to her now?"
"I'm her mother, John! Her father is dying! She's eleven! What was she supposed to do? I won't let her go to foster care."
"You have a new daughter now, Abby. When we got married, we promised each other we'd begin again. Erase our past errors…"
"Listen to what you're saying, Carter! I can't believe you! She is not an error. She's my daughter, Carter, and I will take her in and I'm sorry if you can't deal with that. Grow up, Carter! Just grow up!"
She wiped it away hastily, pushing past a doctor on her way to the doors.
"Any other children you have that I should know about?"
"Stop it!"
"Because you should probably tell me now before their fathers die too and we have to take them in."
"I said stop!"
"Maybe we should just open our house to all of 'Abby's Orphaned Children'."
"That's it. I'm leaving."
She reached the ambulance bay before anyone caught up with her. She felt an arm tug on her shoulder and she turned around, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.
Her mother's face stared at her lovingly and she felt those loving maternal arms encompass her in their embrace.
And then she let it out. She cried and cried into her mother's shoulder. She cried for her father, she cried for herself and she cried for her future.
"It's okay…" she heard Abby croon softly, "Just let it out. I'm sorry, Julie. I'm really sorry…"
And when Julie lifted her face, Carter was there, his sheepish expression clouded by her own tears. Julie stared at him. He looked sorry, but what he had said had cut deeply into her soul. He had hurt her immensely and looking sorry wasn't enough.
Abby was rubbing her back comfortingly, glaring at her husband with her stubborn, determined expression.
"I'm sorry, Julie," Carter began, looking at his hands ashamed, "I shouldn't have said that and you shouldn't have had to hear it and, if you'll still have us, I just wanted you to know that you'd be welcome in our house. And you are, of course, still invited, with pleasure," he glanced at Abby, "for dinner tonight. Take this as a personal introduction from me and an apology for being so cold and heartless before. I can't even imagine what you think of me right now."
"I'm sorry, Julie. I shouldn't have said that and you shouldn't have had to hear it and, if you'll still have us, I just wanted you to know that you'd be welcome in our house."
It took a lot for a man to apologize. Julie knew that. And he had sounded sincere.
"I'm sorry, Julie…"
She nodded her head slowly and walked with Abby and Carter to their car in silence.