Now that she'd learned about the coffee shop in the wing closer to the cardiac floor in the hospital, Lisa found herself frequenting it multiple times a day. The place really was a blessing to her, not only providing sustenance during the long hours at the hospital, but also just providing a respite, a place that felt normal, a place that felt like the world was still going on even in this current state.
It had been a week since she'd first tried the tea in the coffee shop, and by now, she'd tried almost every tea they had, as well as several different coffee blends. Truthfully, Lisa was surprised her dad was still hanging on, and in the week's time, he had declined even further. The end was imminent; she hated being away at all during the day. She'd had a meeting earlier this morning, and when she'd arrived at lunchtime, she'd found her dad awake but not interested in eating. She'd coaxed him a bit, and now, he was sleeping again. She'd come down here to get some caffeine and also to get some work done, a few follow-up calls to clients, which was difficult from a hospital pay phone. She hated conducting business upstairs with her dad so sick, but life and work continued regardless of the personal sadness she had.
"Lisa, hi," she snapped her head up from where she'd been making notes in her planner to find Jack standing over her table. She'd not seen him since he'd spilled his coffee all over her, but now, she hadn't realized how nice it was to see a friendly face. Jack. She'd enjoyed meeting him last week even though it came with him spilling coffee all over her. Of course, it was hard to be upset with it being an accident and both of them having such a mess to deal with in their own lives. She'd appreciated him getting her a cup of tea, and even when she'd returned from cleaning up herself, he had surprised her with a chocolate chip cookie, freshly baked and smelling divine in the display case. She thought back to the kind gesture.
"You'd mentioned you hadn't been eating much, and these have been really good. I might have bought few of them over the weeks I've spent here. I hope you like chocolate chip cookies."
"That is very sweet. Thank you. Who doesn't like chocolate chip cookies?"
Now, here he was again. The two had briefly chatted over their tea and coffee last week, Lisa sitting down with him for a few minutes before excusing herself upstairs.
"Jack, hi," she told him with a quick nod. She gave him a once-over; he was slightly disheveled, his shirt looking wrinkled and probably like he'd been here for hours if not overnight. He had on clean jeans but definitely looked like he could clean up the scruff on his face. She wasn't judging at all; Jack looked tired in all ways-physically, emotionally, and mentally, exactly like she felt and probably looked as well. She acted quickly, seeing a new friend in need and waved her hand. "Would you like to sit?"
"Oh, no," he waved his one hand, his other hand with a cup of coffee in it. "I don't want to bother you. Looks like you're hard at work."
"Please, it's fine," she nodded to the seat. "I was working, yes, but I'm done for now and just closing up my planner." With that, she did exactly as she said-she closed her planner and gave him a soft smile. "You look like you could use a break."
"Yeah," he quietly chuckled, pulling out the chair and almost falling into it. She frowned at him and cleared her throat to speak. He spoke before she did, "Thanks for the distraction here. How's your father?"
"Ahh, not good," she pursed her lips. "I don't expect him to live much longer. He's not eating now either, and he's sleeping most of the time. I had a meeting this morning for work, and I hated even being gone that long. It's a terrible feeling, the guilt, but trying to balance it with life-"
"I know what you mean," he nodded, dipping his head as he frowned. When he looked back at her, he waved his free hand again. "I have a big herd of cattle that can't care for themselves."
"Ahh," she nodded with a sympathetic smile. "Horses for me."
His eyebrows shot up, "You have horses?"
The two had briefly talked last week, and as Lisa thought back over the conversation, she realized they hadn't discussed much about their own lives. They'd mostly discussed their ill family members, really as it should be. She knew his wife was dying of cancer, and he knew her dad was dying of congestive heart failure.
"I do have horses," she said with a small grin.
He looked clearly surprised and shook his head again, "Honestly, I took you for an office job, some sort of corporate manager. You strike me as the boss lady. I would have put money on you working here in downtown Calgary."
She sat back and crossed her arms, an almost smug smile on her face, "Really? While I don't work in downtown Calgary, there are bits and pieces to your assessment that are correct. I do travel in and out of Calgary a lot."
He nodded, eyeing her, trying to assess her, "Did you grow up in a big city? You just have this worldly look to you."
"No," she chuckled, arms still crossed as she sat back and let his try to figure her out. "I did not grow up in a big city, nearby here, though."
"Okay," he said with a roll of his head. "Horses-I'm guessing you're one of these big horse breeders then? You jump or show fancy horses?"
"I'll put you out of your misery," she smiled, nodding. "You're getting much closer. Yes, I do own and breed high end horses, but I also race them too. I grew up in Hudson."
His eyes shot up again, "Wait, you grew up in Hudson? I'm from Hudson; I live in Hudson, own a 600-acre cattle ranch there."
"You do?" She tilted her head with a surprised expression, her eyes darting at him. "Yes, I grew up in Hudson, went off to university, married, got into more of the horse racing with my now ex-husband, but I knew the high-end breeding business from my dad-"
"Who is your dad?"
"Art Stillman, Fairfield Estates-"
"I know of him," Jack nodded, a small smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, that's not even that far from my ranch, Heartland. I suppose even in a small town, some paths just don't cross, but Heartland isn't far from Fairfield."
She had an almost suspicious look on her face, "I've driven by it, but to be honest, I've not paid much attention to it simply because I've been so focused on my dad. You know, as a kid, you don't pay attention to other properties, and then, I grew up and moved away. I've been back almost a year now, taking over my dad's business and taking care of him. He's been back in the hospital now a couple weeks, and sadly, I don't think he'll go home. Fairfield will be mine to run then, but this just shows me what a small world it is. I'll have to look for your ranch."
"Indeed," he frowned, meeting her gaze. "I'm really sorry to hear about your father. I didn't know he was sick. You would think with small town gossip and all, but your dad has always kept to himself. I know of him, know where Fairfield is, but we don't run in the same circles. Sure," he shrugged, "I've seen him in town before. You know Hudson-everyone knows everyone-"
"Apparently, not everyone," she said with one raised eyebrow and a grin. "I didn't know you, but to be fair, as I said, moved back here a year, and I've been very busy balancing the business, getting divorced," she said with a sigh and roll of her eyes, "and of course, taking care of Dad."
"You mentioned an absentee sister," he pointed out. "No one else? Your mother?"
Lisa shook her head, "She passed away when I was much younger, so it's just me. The business is a lot, but it's doing well, and I do know it, so it's just been a lot of getting acquainted with particular customers, and don't even get me started on the travel."
"You travel a lot?"
She nodded, "Yes, and honestly, I'll travel even more eventually, I mean, with Dad-"
Lisa stopped talking, and Jack, understanding what she was saying about there being more travel after he passed away, nodded, and the two drooped into a comfortable silence, sipping at their drinks. Finally, she cleared her throat and eyed him, giving him an encouraging nod as she spoke.
"So, Jack of Heartland Ranch of Hudson."
"In the flesh," he told her. "Ranching and that ranch have been in my family for generations. I'm honored to own it. I've lived there my entire life, except for some years away at the rodeo-"
"You're a rodeo cowboy?" Lisa's eyes widened in surprise. "A real one?"
He smirked at her before sipping his coffee, "It's not as glamorous or exciting as it sounds. It's more of how broken can a guy get trying to jump on bucking animals, but yes, I did rodeo for a time. Retired now, I mean, from that. I still run the ranch. Never will retire from that; no one does. Just trying to keep things afloat in my old age."
"You're hardly old," she teased, a grin on her face.
"Coming to this place, day after day, I certainly feel old. Feels like a lifetime. Guess it feels that way since I've known my wife so long. She was 18 when we married, a singer. I'm ahh," he paused and teared up looking away as he did. She could hear his voice wavering, "I'm really going to miss her singing when-"
There it was, that silence again. The two dropped off into it, not a comfortable one this time. Lisa caught the face of her watch and realized she'd been gone longer than she wanted and started to collect her things.
"I'm sorry, but I need to get back to my dad."
"Of course. I need to do the same, I mean back to my wife."
"I didn't ask, but how is your wife?"
He shrugged, "Not wanting to fight anymore. Lyndy's fought the good fight, but I see the life in her slipping away."
"I'm very sorry," Lisa told him, putting a reassuring hand on his arm as she stood. Her eyes met his, "It's so hard, and I keep looking out the window and seeing people go about their everyday lives-"
"I do the same," he nodded with a frown. "I'm barely sleeping, getting up so early to tend to the chores, see my daughter-"
"Oh," she offered a small smile. "You have a daughter?"
Jack nodded, "Just one, Marion, and she's the best thing in the world. It's good knowing I'll have a piece of Lyndy when-"
Lisa nodded, glancing down, "I'll keep your family in my prayers, but I am glad you have your daughter."
"I'll do the same about your dad, your family."
"Thank you, and it was good to see you. I'd say I'll look forward to running into you again, but," she paused and bit her lip. He nodded. "I guess you get it."
"Always glad to see a friendly face here, but that just means we're all going through the same thing. Take care, Lisa."
"You too," she patted his arm again, and with her pile of work documents in one hand, she scooped up her bag. "Thanks again for the tip on this place. It's been such a blessing. I've been here at least once a day. Take care, Jack."
Lisa ended up spending the night at the hospital, as her dad was really struggling, but by 6AM, she was desperately in need of a break. He'd made it through the night, but she felt deep in her core that he was not going to make it through the day. She couldn't stomach the idea of more to drink right now, even though she hadn't had anything to eat since mid-afternoon the day before, but she wanted out-out of the hospital, out into the fresh air, out away from death and devastation-out. She found herself outside, sitting on a bench staring into nothing and not paying any attention to the medical personnel coming in for the day.
"Lisa?" She heard and glanced up, having no energy for more.
"Oh, hi," she said with a hollow voice, clearing it as she hadn't spoken in some time.
Jack waved to the bench, and she nodded, no words needed as he sat down next to her. He looked better, at least in fresh clothing, and Jack appeared to have shaven. He handed her a cup, and she stared it it like it was a foreign object.
"Looks like you could use this more than me, please," he gestured the fresh coffee at her.
"Umm, thank you," she said quietly, her hand shaking as she accepted it. She stared down at the cup and didn't say more.
"Sorry to pry, but did-"
"He made it through the night," she nodded, still looking down, and her voice wavered as she tried to say more, "but I don't think he'll make it much longer. I just needed to get out of that room and into some fresh air for a few minutes. I don't want to leave him long."
"Of course," Jack nodded quietly as he sat there with her. They were both quiet, and finally, she glanced his way.
"Thanks for the coffee. You look like you got a little rest?"
"Some," he told her. "Trying to get here early. I have to take care of things at the ranch later that can't wait. I know you understand that feeling of being torn-trying to be there for someone you love but that tug to keep up the day-to-day things."
"Yes," she said with a sigh. "My sister finally agreed to travel out here, but I don't think she'll make it in time. I hate that for her, for my nephew. He loves my dad, and my dad loves him."
"Sorry to hear that," Jack said with his deep voice. He sighed and then waved with his hand, "My wife wants to go home, to pass away there, but it's hard thinking of that, thinking of things ending there. I barely can keep it together coming here and taking care of things at home. I'm not sure I am equipped to care for her at home like she needs. I feel awful admitting that-"
"No," Lisa turned slightly and put her hand on his forearm, meeting his gaze. "I get that. I really do. There's no right or wrong answer with any of this, well," she sighed and looked up. "I suppose I feel Iike my sister avoiding it all is the wrong answer, but I mean in the primary caregiver. You or I or anyone in that role can only do so much."
"It's just a lot with what my daughter has going on too," he offered, and Lisa nodded, not that she exactly understood the reference. She didn't pry, and Jack didn't offer up what was going on. As the daughter herself watching her parent fade, she understood how hard it was and could be for his own daughter.
"Thank you for the coffee, but I really should-" Lisa hooked her hand and stood up.
"Of course, go," he nodded. "It is ironic that of all the people I could spill coffee on in a big city, it happens to be a fellow small-town neighbor I'd never me," he told her, offering a sad smile. "Seems like that stupid action was meant to be. It really has been a welcome sight to see a friendly face here, even if you've got your own mess."
"Same," she told him, wiping at her face. "Your wife is still?"
"Holding her own," Jack stated with a nod. "Pancreatic cancer, so she's fading away slowly. That's hard to watch, hard to see the pain. It's even worse trying to imagine life without her. I go home at night, and she's not there. As much as I love my ranch, right now, I hate going home. It's like the slow withdrawal, you know? She's been slipping away for a long, long time. What am I saying," Jack sighed again, shaking his head. "Of course, you know."
"I do," she told him with a shrug. "Different though, I mean, he's my dad. She's your wife."
"Still a lonely place," he admitted. "I've lost my dad, so I get that, but he and I weren't on the best of terms." Lisa looked at him, and Jack had folded his hands in his lap. She waited for him to look her way, and when he did, he admitted, "Alcohol. Went much too early, but he and I were at odds at the end. Still, I do understand the loss of a parent."
She nodded, a sympathetic smile, and before she left, she cleared her voice, "And, no it's not the same, but I recently divorced, so I mourn in a different way, the loss of a spouse, of what I thought would be and isn't. That future, that uncertainty of not having your person-"
"Take care of yourself, Lisa," he told her, eyeing her. "Your dad would want that."
"You too, Jack. I'm going to head upstairs."
With that, she walked back into the building. It really had helped to talk to a 'd become a friend in his weird, awful situation, and while she didn't wish this on anyone, she took comfort in the small moments as she'd just had where she could talk to a friend who understood, who felt the same way.
Her life was changing quickly. In the last year, she'd moved home from Kentucky, separated from Dan, figured out Dan was not really in love with her, had finalized her divorce from Dan, had taken over her dad's business, had tried to reacclimatize to small-town life, had learned more about congestive heart failure than she imagined, and now, was waiting for those final moments.
Life was precious. Life was short. She reminded herself of that all the time and like she'd been reminding herself, she would seize the day. Lisa would go back upstairs and sit with her dad. She'd laugh about stories from her childhood and would spend the precious time she had left with him because right now, he was all she had left.