Trish finally reveals her own troubles to her friends and is forced to face a new hard truth.
Warning: death of a parent
Chapter Nineteen
Trish was glad to see Bruno back in school on Monday. Apparently, his father had insisted he get back to some normalcy, so he had done so, showing up with much sympathy and well-wishes from teachers and students alike. Trish had been horrified when Giorno called her the day before and told her about what had happened at the hospital. But at least those men had been put a stop to.
"But your dad is doing better?" Narancia asked anxiously while they were talking at lunch.
Bruno nodded with a tired smile. "Yes. He's still pretty sore, but he was feeling even more himself this morning. The doctors are going to start teaching him how to get in and out of a wheelchair himself this afternoon."
"That's great," Mista grinned. "And, seriously, just let us know if you need any help at the house. My dad's pretty handy too, and I'm sure he could probably help put some ramps in if it's needed."
"I'm still not sure what we'll need to do yet, but we'll get to that. He's going to be in the hospital for a little bit longer though."
Trish picked at her food, not very hungry. Her mother hadn't eaten again that morning. In fact, she had barely woken up at all when Trish had told her goodbye for the day. She was happy that at least Bruno's father was doing well. She wasn't sure if she would be able to handle both at the moment.
"You are coming home tonight, right?" Giorno asked Bruno.
He nodded. "Yes, I'm just going to visit with my father this afternoon and then I'll be home."
"Call me and I'll come pick you up," Leone told him.
"Thank you, I…really need to catch up on school work," Bruno sighed. "I hardly understood anything in math. I'm afraid I'm going to fail the final."
"You still have a few weeks," Leone told him. "Besides, Fugo needs something to do since he already completed all his finals and is pretty much just waiting around for his diploma."
"I just wish this year was over already," Bruno muttered.
"Me too," Trish agreed quietly. Not that school was her problem at the moment.
When she left for the day, walking home by herself as always, she thought about maybe making something for Bruno and the others. Baking relaxed her and if her mother didn't feel up to eating anything then maybe someone else would.
She was just unlocking the door, wondering if she would need to run to the store to get anything she needed for what she was planning on, when her aunt pulled up in the driveway.
Trish frowned, waiting for her. It was a little early for her to get off of work unless she had been off today or working from home.
"Trish," she called as she stepped out of the car. "I'm glad you're home."
"Is something wrong?" Trish asked, that all too familiar sick feeling in her gut returning.
Her aunt sighed. "I had to take your mother to the hospital again. She's not doing well, sweetie."
Trish was in the car in an instant as her aunt turned around and drove them toward the hospital.
"What happened?" she asked shakily.
Her aunt shook her head. "She just wasn't responsive and she had started running a fever. They're still doing tests, but they think some sort of infection might have set in, they're not sure."
Trish felt a hopelessness settle inside of her again. She was tired of the doctors not knowing or not being able to tell them anything. It all seemed so pointless.
When they got to the hospital and were sent to her mother's room, Trish had to fight against the urge to cry, taking several deep breaths. Her mom was on oxygen, seeming to have trouble even breathing for herself now.
"Mom," Trish whispered as she stepped forward, taking her mother's hand. It felt cold, and so thin she could feel all the bones beneath her skin.
The doctor came in and she and her aunt turned toward him.
"Have you finished with the tests yet?" Trish's aunt asked.
The doctor's face looked slightly pinched, holding a clipboard in his hand. "We did."
"Well?"
He glanced between Trish and her aunt. "May I speak to you both in private?"
Trish didn't like that at all but she followed him and her aunt to a small office nearby where the man set his papers down, taking off his glasses.
"Ms. Una has been deteriorating far more rapidly than we anticipated. She hasn't taken to any of the treatments, and now with this infection that has set in, I'm afraid there's really nothing we can do."
"What do you mean by that?" Trish demanded as her aunt put a hand on her shoulder.
The doctor gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm afraid at this point, I'd give your mother two more weeks. I'm sorry."
Trish couldn't even comprehend what he had just said. She simply stared at him, unable to make sense of it.
"Are you sure?" her aunt asked quietly, voice strained. "There's nothing…?" She trailed off helplessly.
"Her sickness has gone too far to treat," the doctor said, then again, "I'm sorry."
Trish couldn't listen to this anymore. She pulled away from her aunt's grasp and threw the door open.
No one called her back or went after her, for which she was grateful. She didn't even know where she was going, she just wanted to be alone.
She found a little alcove beside the vending machines and tried to breathe through the tightness in her chest and throat. She felt like she should be on oxygen.
Her whole world was crashing in and she didn't know how to stop it, nor did she know how to save herself.
Bruno was heading to get a drink from the machines before saying goodbye to his father for the day and calling Leone to come pick him up. His father had done really well with his wheelchair training, and though he couldn't do a lot yet and tired easily, the doctors seemed pleased at his progress already, so Bruno figured that must be good.
He'd been forced to get his arm checked again too, but aside from aching dully and the stitches pulling uncomfortably whenever he did anything, he was fine.
He reached into his pocket for some coins, heading over to get a candy bar when he spotted someone with bright pink hair curled into the corner.
Familiar bright pink hair.
"Trish?" he asked, curious and worried at the same time.
Her head flew up and the streaks of mascara on her cheeks were a tell-tell sign that she had been crying.
"What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously. "What's wrong?"
Trish's face crumpled again. "It—it's my mom," she said wetly. "The doctors…they say she only has two weeks to live."
Bruno stared at her in shock before he kicked himself into gear and simply knelt beside her, pulling her into a firm embrace as she started crying again. Trish clung to him, not even bothering to try and keep herself from crying. He didn't mind in the least. He knew, after all. He'd just been here a few days ago.
When her sobs died down to hiccups, Bruno carefully eased her off the floor and led her over to a nearby bench. He then went to get her a hot chocolate from the machine and pressed it into her hands as he sat next to her.
"Did this just happen?" he asked quietly.
"No," Trish said with a wretched moan, scrubbing at her cheeks with the back of her hand, only resulting in smearing her makeup more. "I…she's been sick for a while. That's why we came here. Because there were supposed to be better doctors, but they still couldn't do anything and she's just gotten worse!"
Bruno stared at her in surprise. "Trish, why didn't you tell us?"
She shook her head, sniffling. "I don't know, because first I didn't know you that well and then Panna and Giorno had bigger troubles, Narancia went to jail, and your father…You didn't need my problems too."
"That's not true," Bruno told her firmly. "We're your friends, Trish, we all support each other. You should never feel bad for needing to confide in any of us."
She sniffed again. "I don't know what to do now," Trish told him, more tears sliding down her cheeks. "She—she's all I ever had."
And Bruno understood that more than she could ever know. He had felt the same way when he had seen his father in the hospital bed that first day, sure that he would lose him. The only difference is that he hadn't and Trish couldn't say the same. He didn't know what to say so he wrapped his arms around her again and simply held her as she continued to cry.
When she finally seemed to be out of tears and had finished half of her cocoa, Bruno gently coaxed, "Where is your mother's room?"
Trish sniffed. "I don't even know, I didn't pay attention."
"I'll go help you find out," Bruno told her and they headed to the nearest nurse's station where they were directed back to the room Trish's mother was staying in.
"I'll be right back," Bruno promised her quietly.
She nodded and he hurried back to his father's room.
His father could instantly tell that something was wrong, and inquired about it.
"It's Trish. Her mom," Bruno said and explained the situation.
His father swore quietly. "I'm sorry to hear that. She's a sweet kid."
Bruno nodded and turned to the phone, dialing their home number. Fugo picked it up.
"Panna, are Giorno and Leone there too?" he asked and when he got a confirmation, he said, "Let them listen in, and when I'm done, call Mista and Narancia too, okay?"
Trish sat by her mother's bedside. Her aunt was still talking to the doctor or maybe just giving Trish her space. She had tried to clean her face up before she came back but it hadn't really done any good. She still obviously looked like she had been crying.
A soft knock on the door had her looking up to see Bruno peeking his head in.
"Is it okay if I come in?" he asked.
She nodded and he came in and pulled another chair over to sit beside her, both of them silent.
It wasn't long before another knock came on the door and her aunt came in, eyes landing on Bruno.
"Trish? Who is this?"
"This is Bruno, I don't think you met him," Trish told her. "His father's staying here too."
"Of course," her aunt said with a nod, offering a small smile to Bruno. "I'm sorry I had to meet you under these circumstances, but…"
"No, it's fine," Bruno told her sincerely. "I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not," she said.
Another knock interrupted further discussion and the door opened, several heads peeking inside this time.
"I…hope you don't mind." Bruno turned to Trish. "They don't all have to come in if you don't want them to, but...they just wanted to come support you."
"Oh god, you didn't have to call them," Trish said, putting her head into her hands, overwhelmed but touched as everyone came into the room, carrying flowers and plants.
Mista practically picked Trish up off her chair as he gave her a warm hug. "My mom sent a lasagna with me, it's out in the car, so I'll make sure you get it before I leave."
"You didn't have to hide this from us," Narancia told her quietly, his own eyes wet as he gave her an almost desperate embrace. "I know how hard it is."
Leone stepped forward to hug her as well before pressing some make-up wipes into her hand, which only made her want to cry more.
"Bruno told us this is why you came here from Sardinia," Fugo said, sympathy in his eyes as he took the plant Giorno was holding and set it carefully on her mother's bedside. "You didn't have to feel like you were burdening us with this."
She sniffled and turned to Giorno who was staring at her with pools of sympathetic green before he stepped forward and pulled her into a soft hug.
"This was what you wanted to tell me, wasn't it?" he asked quietly.
Trish let out a shaking breath. "Yes. I—I just didn't know how."
"I'm sorry," Giorno replied sincerely before pulling back. His hand lingered around her waist briefly before his cheeks tinted pink and he stepped back.
"You didn't all have to come," she said quietly, feeling so overwhelmed.
"You were there for all of us," Giorno told her. "Can't we be here for you too?"
That made Trish break down crying again and she was simply surrounded by everyone holding her close.
Her aunt looked slightly bewildered at all the teenagers, probably especially since they were all boys, but she didn't say anything or tell them to go away.
"I'm glad you have so many good friends, Trish," was all she said.
"Me too," Trish sniffed as she finally managed a wan smile at all the others. Maybe…even if the worst happened, she would still be okay.
Trish refused the leave the hospital the next day and her aunt didn't make her go to school. She had to leave for work, but told Trish to call her if she needed anything.
It was lonely there all by herself. Her mother barely woke and when she did, she didn't seem to know where she was. Trish honestly didn't know how Bruno could stand to stay here so long by himself. She hated hospitals.
She spent most of the time watching terrible daytime television, trying to eat what one of the nurse's brought her, but wasn't hungry.
She lost track of time and was surprised when there was a knock on the door and looked up to see Giorno and Bruno coming into the room. Giorno had another plant, this one with pink flowers on it and Bruno held a take-out bag.
"We brought you a little treat," he said handing it to her. "Thought you might want something better than what they have here."
"Thanks," she said quietly. "How is your dad?"
"I'm on my way to visit him right now," Bruno said with a sad smile. "And your mom?"
"No change," Trish said quietly, looking down at her hands.
Giorno came further and pulled another chair over to the bed beside Trish's. "I'll stay with you while Bruno visits his dad."
Trish nodded gratefully and watched as Giorno set the flower down on the side table. "This is for you, actually. I…was experimenting with marigolds and got pink ones. I thought you might like some."
"They're really pretty," Trish told him.
Giorno sat down in the chair next to her, glancing at the various machines that were monitoring her mother. "I…never really felt what it was like to fear for a parent until recently," he said slowly. "I never cared like that for my mother and definitely not my stepfather." He stopped and shook his head. "Sorry, that probably made no sense. I guess I meant that I can't really comprehend what you're going through, but…I'm here if you need to talk. I told you that before. You…" he swallowed hard. "If you hadn't been there that day when I came to school with those bruises, if you hadn't been there for me to confide in…I don't know where I would be right now. So, just…I'm here to listen. I'm told I'm good at that." He smiled slightly.
Trish felt her heart ache and become warm with emotion at the same time. She swallowed down the welling ache in her throat and, not knowing what else to say, she simply choked out a "Thank you" and impulsively reached over to grasp Giorno's hand, squeezing tightly.
He squeezed back and they sat in silence for a while before Trish's mom started to stir, and her eyes fluttered open.
"Mama?" she inquired, leaning forward.
Her mom smiled as she saw her. "Trish, what are you doing here?"
"Just keeping you company," Trish told her, somehow managing to smile back.
She remembered Giorno's hand still clutched in hers and tugged on it slightly. "This is Giorno, Mom. He came to stay with me for a while."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Signora Una," Giorno said with a small smile.
Her mother's eyes lit up a bit. "Oh, so you're the boy Trish is always talking about," she said. "You do have beautiful hair."
"Mom!" Trish scolded, cheeks reddening. She quickly slipped her hand out of Giorno's. "He's the one who brought you all the nice plants."
"That's very sweet of you," her mother said, eyes already dropping again. "I'm glad my Trish has such good friends."
She seemed to drift off again after that and the room lapsed into silence until Bruno came back in.
"Well, Papa's getting better," he said. "But the doctors still think he'll have to stay for the rest of the week."
"That will give us time to set the house up for him," Giorno said.
Bruno nodded. "Is there anything we can bring you, Trish? Do you want to come over for dinner?"
She shook her head. "Not tonight. We still have the lasagna Mista brought us."
"Let me know, though okay?" Bruno told her. "And Leone doesn't live far from here, he said to call him anytime if you need something, or a ride."
Trish nodded. "Thanks. If you need to go, you don't have to stay. My aunt will be off work soon and I think we're going home for dinner."
Giorno gave her a reluctant look as he stood. "All right, but…like Bruno said. Let us know if you need anything."
"And if you ever do need to talk or just some company," Bruno added, "Just come over. If you don't want to be alone at night, we can just sit around and talk or watch movies too. But I also understand if you want to stay with your mom."
She nodded again and stood, hugging them both before walking to the door with them. "Thank you, really. I'll let you know, I promise."
They nodded and Giorno gave her a small smile and wave before they turned away and left.
Trish returned to her mother's bedside and continued her vigil.
The days stretched on almost imperceptibly, broken up only by small waking moments from her mother, and visits from her friends. Trish tried to go home and sleep at night but always seemed to be interrupted by nightmares, which made her even more anxious to get back to her mother.
Part of her wondered if it had all been a dream, if the doctors were wrong and maybe her mother wasn't dying. But she didn't wake up for more than a few minutes at a time, she didn't eat, and her fever came and went.
Maybe it was Trish's fault for not wanting to admit to herself that, pretty soon, her mother would no longer be around.
She sat by her mom's bedside with her homework across her lap. She'd asked Giorno to bring it so she would have something to think about, but even math didn't seem to make sense today.
"The sun is bright today."
Trish looked up, startled by the weak voice, and saw her mother actually awake, turned toward the window she had opened to let some of the light in.
"It is, it's actually a really nice day out," Trish told her.
Her mother tilted her head back toward her. "Why aren't you out with your friends then?"
Trish gave her a watery smile. "I'm just doing my homework now, Mama. It's almost the end of the school year, you know."
"And you'll be a senior next year." Her mother smiled proudly, reaching out with a thin hand to gently stroke Trish's cheek. "You've grown up so fast, you know."
"Mom," Trish sighed, feeling on the verge of tears.
Her mother looked out the window again wistfully. "It would be a nice day for the beach. I'd love to go again."
Trish blinked tears out of her eyes. "We will. When you…when you get out of here we'll go to the beach. I promise."
Her mother smiled, eyes looking distant. "Your father and I used to go to the beach all the time, you know. I do miss him."
"I know, Mama," Trish replied.
Her mother turned back to her. "You have his eyes, you know." She sighed. "I wish you could have gotten to know him. I wish I had tried harder to get into contact with him."
Trish reached out to take her hand. "It's all right. We've always been okay, just the two of us, right?"
Her mother smiled. "Of course we have."
She seemed to slip off again and Trish swallowed down the growing lump in her throat.
She must have fallen asleep because she woke later, confused. There was no more sunlight outside and the machines attached to her mother were screaming as alarms went off.
Her mother's hand was still clutched in hers. Cold. Too cold.
"Mom?" Trish demanded, squeezing her hand.
Doctors rushed in and started calling to each other.
"Please step aside," one said to Trish.
She reluctantly released her mother's hand and got out of the chair, heart pounding in her throat as she watched the doctors surround her mother's bed.
"Come here, honey, give them room to work," one of the nurses said and pulled Trish from the room.
"What's wrong with her?" Trish demanded.
The nurse didn't answer but Trish watched through the door as the doctors worked but then finally one shook his head and a nurse reached over to turn off the blaring machine.
The doctor came out and placed a hand on Trish's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. "But she's at peace now."
Trish's world shattered.
Giorno was helping Fugo finish up the dinner dishes before they got back to homework and studying. With everything going on he and Bruno had really tried to pick up the pace though it was starting to seem a little fruitless.
"How has the gardening been going?" Bruno asked Giorno.
"Good, I just finished up with Signora Bellucci today and she said she might like to expand come the fall."
"That's good," Bruno smiled. "I'm glad you've found something you like to do." He sighed. "I'm going to have to reacquaint myself with taking the boat out too. After graduation, I plan to take over for my father full time."
"Well, I wouldn't mind helping when I have the chance," Fugo told him.
"I appreciate it," Bruno told him sincerely. "Tomorrow afternoon, a couple of the other fishermen are coming over to help me figure out how to make the house more handicap accessible. Marco recently did it for his mother so he has some good suggestions."
"That's great," Giorno said.
"Honestly, I'm just worried Papa will get bored," Bruno said with a sigh. "He's always worked since he was younger than me. He's not good at just sitting around."
"Then we'll find him something new to do, there's plenty of work he can do with his hands," Fugo commented. "Learning a new hobby might help in his recovery as well."
"I like that idea," Bruno said musingly. "I'll have to think about it."
They were just sitting down to do homework when there was a hesitant knock at the door.
"I'll get it," Giorno told them as he slid his chair back and hurried toward the door.
He did not expect to see Trish standing there on the doorstep, shaking with tears running down her cheeks.
"Trish," Giorno gasped, stepping forward as she nearly collapsed against him.
The others rushed over as Giorno tried to duck down to see Trish's face. "Trish? What's wrong?"
"M-my mom," she sobbed into his shoulder. "She—she's dead!"
Giorno held her tighter, not knowing what to say.
"Here," Bruno said, snapping into motion again and pointing Giorno over to the couch.
Giorno led Trish there, pulling her down into his arms as Bruno grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders and telling Fugo to make a hot drink before sitting down beside them and rubbing her back.
Giorno met Bruno's eyes over Trish's head, and both of theirs were wet as well. Giorno ducked his head to rest his cheek against Trish's soft hair, and simply held her tightly as she shuddered. Fugo quietly slipped over and set a cup of tea on the coffee table before sitting on Bruno's other side. None of them said anything, reassurances would be pointless, after all. What could they possibly say to make this better?
It was a long time before any of them moved. Trish only shifted enough to wipe her eyes and accept the Kleenex Bruno handed her, taking a couple swallows of the tea before leaning back against Giorno's shoulder.
"My aunt," she croaked. "She was working late, doesn't know where I am."
Bruno instantly stood. "I'll call her. Don't worry. You can stay as long as you want."
Trish nodded and curled against Giorno again as he continued to hold her close, wishing he could offer more than just this physical comfort—admittedly, he wasn't very good at that, awkward. But Trish didn't really seem to mind.
He heard Bruno on the phone nearby, and Fugo setting the box of tissues closer to Trish's reach.
"Can I get you anything else?" he asked.
She shook her head, sniffling. "No. I just…thanks for being here for me."
"Of course," Giorno replied sincerely.
"Can we turn the TV on or something?" Trish asked after a moment. "I don't care what, I just want some background noise."
Fugo nodded and did as she asked, all of them sitting around for the rest of the night in quiet companionship, a sort of limbo.
Trish finally fell asleep with her head in Giorno's lap and he didn't have the heart to move and wake her up, so he stayed there for the rest of the night, dozing off with her warmth pressed against him.
They held the funeral that Saturday. It was very small; after all, Trish and her mother had only been in Naples for less than a year, and her mother hadn't really gotten the opportunity to meet anyone. But several of her aunt's co-workers showed up, and of course Giorno and the others had all come to support Trish along with their parents. Even Bruno's father had been able to come, having been released from the hospital two days before. Risotto and his gang had all showed up as well, a bunch of awkward teenagers in formal wear, but Giorno could tell their support helped Trish.
He'd had to borrow a suit from Fugo, who had also had to show both him and Bruno how to tie a tie since neither of them had had reason to wear one before.
Thankfully, there was no open casket, but the table that held the coffin had been covered in bouquets of flowers.
Trish stood in the corner beside it, eyes hollow, having obviously not slept very well for several days. Giorno made his way over to her and the others quickly moved back to surround her as well.
"It seems like it's not real," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. "I still can't believe…"
"I know," Narancia said sympathetically. "It's hard for a while, really hard. But then, eventually, you start remembering the good things again." He gave her a small smile. "And you can always go talk to her."
Trish sniffed and nodded, rubbing her nose on a handkerchief. Giorno took the opportunity to reach out and take her hand, and she squeezed his back gratefully.
"We'll be here with you the whole time," he said softly.
"Whatever you need," Mista promised.
Trish nodded and dabbed her eyes. "Giorno," she said after a while. "I want…I want to plant flowers on her grave. Don't you think that would be pretty? To have a bed of flowers there? Can you…can you help me with that?"
Giorno nodded, squeezing her hand tighter. "Of course I can. Anything you want. We can come tomorrow and do it while the ground is still turned. If you're feeling up to it," he added quickly.
Trish let out a soft sob but nodded again. "Thank you, that would be nice."
The doors to the room opened and everyone turned to look at who was coming in late. Giorno expected the funeral director, or maybe another of Trish's aunt's coworkers, but it was neither.
It was a tall man with long pink hair in a suit even Giorno could tell was expensive. Everyone stared at him as he looked around the room, ignoring them until his eyes landed on Trish.
Bruno leaned in. "Do you know that man?"
Trish shook her head, her eyes wide. "I…I don't think…" She glanced toward her aunt who was currently talking to Leone's parents, not having seen the new arrival.
The man started over, and Giorno and the others, Risotto and his friends included, all hemmed Trish in between them, as if something was actually going to go down. There was an undeniable power that accompanied this man and Giorno felt a sudden surge of protectiveness.
"Are you Trish?" the stranger asked.
Trish didn't say anything, but she nodded.
The man held out his hand. "You don't know me, but I'm your father."