Forever Starts Tomorrow (15 page)

‘It’s chocolate, my favorite!’ Scott turned the corner and saw them together, Melanie’s blond head and José’s dark one bent together over the oven. He had to swallow, the sudden lump in his throat making it hard to breathe. She looked up, her blue eyes joyful and a smudge of chocolate on her chin. He had to think that he had never seen a more beautiful woman; images of the room filled with kids as they sat down to dinner rose before his eyes. He blinked them away, embarrassed. Was he really daydreaming about having a bunch of kids in the near future? What had happened to his plans to take Melanie around the world and enjoy time as a couple?

They could travel later. Watching Melanie with José had been a real eye-opener, her patience, kindness and sense of humor making what had seemed like a daunting enterprise not only doable, but also enjoyable.

‘Just in time.’ She grabbed the oven mitts and opened the oven door, and the scent of chocolate was tempting, even after a sushi meal. Scott snapped out of his reverie and put the box on the counter, his brain working again.

‘We brought you some sushi and salad too.’ Stepping closer, he maneuvered around her to put the food in the huge, stainless steel fridge. Scott had to bite back a smile, recalling José’s honest exclamation that his fridge was big enough to hold a year's worth of food. He closed the door and found himself close enough to touch her, her oven-heated skin smelling of chocolate and vanilla. He quickly stepped back, before the temptation to touch her became too great. He had promised to give her some space, he reminded himself firmly, and he excused himself with the most plausible excuse he could think of: he needed to check his email and messages. He had deliberately detached himself from work when he and José had left for lunch. Three hours later, he felt too restless to resist it any longer.

He was right in the middle of his third email, his attention focused on the message, when the phone rang. He ignored it, his thoughts preoccupied with more important things. The ringing stopped, and he returned to the keyboard, glad for the interruption to be over.

‘Scott, it’s Marnie.’

He looked up, surprised. Melanie stood at the door, pale and bewildered. The alarm bells in his brain started ringing even before she continued speaking, her usually soft voice shaky and hoarse. ‘It’s about Maria. You'd better call her back.’

He reached for the receiver, without additional protest. He entered the number, his eyes still on Melanie. She looked as if someone had punched her, all the cheerfulness erased as if it had never existed. ‘What happened?’ he mouthed the question while he waited for the signal.

‘She… Maria had a stroke at the hospital,’ Melanie mumbled. ‘I couldn’t really ask Marnie anything specific with José around. I told her you’d call her back right away.’

He nodded, surprise making him tongue-tied. He watched her walk out, her slim shoulders straightening as she was leaving the room. She’d take care of José, he thought gratefully, as he waited for Marnie to pick up.

‘Scott? Ramona just called me; she was hysterical.’

‘What happened?’ He waited for more information, his heart painfully thudding in his chest.

‘Maria had a stroke earlier today. Apparently, a blood clot got loose. Nobody knows why, except that she didn’t really move around over the last few days. She's in intensive care now, in a coma. She will get better, right?’ Her tone was pleading.

It wasn’t often that his older sister looked to him for reassurance. He could count on his fingers the instances he was comforting her, not the other way around.

‘Probably.’ He hoped he sounded convincing. ‘She is in really good hands, Mar.’ He listened to her voice, his mind drifting off to the most obvious problem at hand. What would he tell José? He’d been at his house for less than twenty-four hours, for God’s sake.

‘I almost feel that she kept it together until she knew you were there for José.’ Mar was sniffing, and he could imagine her as if she were standing here, next to him. She was supposed to drop by later in the evening, before she joined her husband. She was leaving for New York in just a couple of weeks. He missed her already.

‘Look, it’s probably not that serious.’ Scott hated hearing her cry. Next to Mel and his adoptive parents, Marnie was the most important person in his life. ‘I’ll call the hospital and find out more. Until then, try not to worry too much.’ He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt.

After Scott hung up, he remained sitting, motionless, like a statue. His eyes fell on the picture of José and his father that Maria had given him, still on his desk. His father’s face was relaxed and happy, his eyes wrinkled in the corners with the same expression Scott saw when he looked in the mirror.

‘Is it your final gift to me?’ he whispered, his anger rising as he stared at the man. ‘Didn’t you screw up enough things in my life already?’

He knew he was being unreasonable, of course. His father had nothing to do with Maria’s stroke. Still, it felt ironic that whenever he tried to engage in anything even remotely related to his dad, things went wrong.

His final decision was easy. Scott rose to his feet and walked back to the kitchen. José was there, helping Melanie add final touches to the cake.

‘Look guys, I need to go for a short drive back to work.’ He smiled apologetically, his voice betraying nothing of his agitation. ‘I should be back just in time for the cake to be cool enough for us to eat it.’

José nodded absentmindedly, his attention on the piping he was creating on top of the cake. Whipped-cream roses and squiggly lines distracted him enough that he barely noticed Melanie’s worried expression.

She followed him to the exit, stepping outside into the sun-drenched driveway.

‘I’ll go and see what’s going on.’ He sighed, looking down into her concerned blue eyes. ‘I figured it’s better than just calling. After all, we’re not family, so they won’t be authorized to tell me anything over the phone, but Ramona and her father will probably be there, so I’ll find out more from them. Are you OK with staying here with José?’

She nodded without a second of hesitation. ‘Of course.’ She looked back to the house, her expression worried. ‘Should we tell him something? I mean, it’s his grandma. If—God forbid—something happens, he’d probably want to see her, too.’

‘I hope it won’t come to that.’ Scott bit his lip, the gesture reassuringly painful. The last few days had been like a never-ending kaleidoscope of events that were sending him deeper and deeper into a reality that scared him. There were a few highlights in that journey, all of them featuring Mel’s smile and the taste of her skin as his own personal light. Without her, he’d go crazy.

‘I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.’ He hesitated briefly before dipping his head, his lips brushing hers in a kiss. She responded, her mouth warm and welcoming under his. She was like his own battery charger. The very true—but not romantic—comparison would have made him laugh at any other time.

‘Drive carefully,’ she whispered, her blue eyes moist with tears. ‘If… if you think that José needs to come, too, don’t hesitate to call right away. He loves his grandma very much. You know that.’

Scott knew what she meant. There was no need to put it into words. If Maria had taken a turn for worse, José needed to be at her side. He nodded, pulling her closer for a second.

‘It will be all right,’ he promised, wishing he were right. ‘It has to be.’

He drove off, casting a quick glance into his rearview mirror. Melanie was standing there, her blond hair shining like pure gold in the afternoon sunshine. Her pink T-shirt and khaki shorts hid little of her slim, tanned body. She raised her hand and waved at him, the gesture small and insignificant yet powerful enough to calm him just a bit. As long she was there, waiting for him at the end of whatever happened, he could take on the world. Of that he was certain.

ELEVEN

‘How could this happen?’ Ramona was sobbing loudly, the mascara running down her cheeks in dark smudges. She, Raoul, and Scott had been ushered into a private room. The doctor that came to see them shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Scott wasn’t sure if it was his place to accompany the father and the daughter, but they'd pulled him along and he didn’t want to upset them even more.

‘She was getting better.’ Raoul's calloused hands were folding and unfolding in his lap. ‘Just earlier today, you said she was making great progress and could go home in a day or two.’ He looked bewildered. His blue-grey uniform suggested he had come there straight from work.

‘And she was.’ The doctor looked at Scott, his expression apologetic. ‘Everything was going really well. Then, right after lunch, she collapsed and we couldn’t revive her for a few minutes. Once she got stabilized, she was transferred to the best intensive care unit we have. For a while it looked as if she could win this battle, Mr. Rocha.’

‘We shouldn’t have moved her at all.’ The older man glared at Scott, his lips trembling. ‘She was fine until you decided that her room wasn’t good enough for her. Maybe all this hubbub caused the clot. What do we know?’

‘I can assure you that the room switch had nothing to do with her condition.’ The doctor glanced nervously at Scott, expecting some kind of negative reaction. There was none. Scott was too stunned to even register the unpleasant comment. A massive bleeding in her brain had induced a coma, with no possible chance of recovery. His usual optimism made him refuse to believe that there was nothing that could be done to improve her odds. He went to see her, and the room was even more oppressive than he'd imagined. She was lying there, a tube clamped to her mouth to keep her breathing, wires attached to her chest and arms. The machines beeped and blinked, and screens displayed her brain-function levels.

‘What can we do?’ He snapped out of his silence, his eyes on the doctor. ‘There must be something? A surgery, perhaps?’

The doctor shook his head. ‘The damage is irreparable.’ He reached for the box of Kleenex on his desk and handed it to Ramona. ‘We have performed an angiogram and a CAT scan, and unfortunately, both aren’t looking good. The angiogram measures the blood supply to the brain, and in the case of Mrs. Rocha, there has been significant damage. To put it into simple words, most of her brain is dead, and there is no way to fix it. I am very sorry.’

‘Are you saying she can’t live without the machines?’ Ramona waved her hand in despair. ‘We cannot pay for keeping her at the hospital forever.’

‘That isn’t the main issue here.’ Scott was about to offer to help when the doctor responded, his grey eyes earnest. ‘Even if you had all the money in the world, things wouldn’t improve. She cannot get better. You can keep her alive with the help of the machines, but it’s important that you are aware of the fact she will never wake up and be herself again.’

‘So you’re saying we should just pull the plug?’ Raoul demanded, his mustache shaking with anger. ‘I should play God and decide that my mother should be disposed of, just like that?’

‘I would never suggest such a thing.’ Two red stains appeared on the doctor’s cheeks, and his eyes darted nervously around the room. Scott felt almost sorry for him.

‘Raoul, the hospital has to tell you exactly what to expect,’ Scott said, earning a grateful glance from the doctor. ‘As painful as it is.’

A buzzer pinned to the white medical coat went off with an annoying high-pitched sound. Scott had a strong suspicion the doctor didn’t mind it, though. His expression was a mix of relief and exasperation. He excused himself and promised to return as soon as possible. The moment the door closed, Scott braced himself for a storm. He didn’t have to wait long.

‘What do you know about pain?’ Raoul lashed out at him, his eyes glazed over with tears. ‘You just appear from nowhere, filthy rich and oblivious to what we have been going through all these years. Your father destroyed our family, Scott Masden. My mother worked like a horse to help Esmeralda, and after she died, a part of my mother died with her. Now she is dying, and I can’t do anything to help her.’ He broke down in sobs.

Scott had been called worse. Reaching a high level of success in his career had required growing a tough skin. When he watched Raoul hug his daughter, both of them crying, Scott felt nothing but sadness for the family that had been forced to endure more than most people he knew.

‘I couldn’t come earlier, because I didn’t know José even existed,’ he explained quietly. ‘My father screwed all of us. I won’t apologize for my financial standing, however. I can help pay for your mom's long-term care, if you choose to keep her hooked up to those machines.’

Raoul’s outburst was over, his anger replaced with infinite sadness.

‘You’d do that for us?’ he asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm. ‘I… I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. It’s not your fault.’ He sighed, rising from the chair, and started pacing the smallish room. The immaculate, glossy linoleum floor squeaked under his shoes as he walked to the window and back.

‘She wouldn’t want it,’ he said finally, his eyes going to his daughter. ‘Remember how our dog got sick? Ate some poison, I think. There were rats around, and people put out traps with food. Bianca was really smart and could get out the bits of meat, no problem.’

‘But it was poisoned,’ Ramona whispered, her face scrunched in pain. ‘I remember how she vomited blood and how you and grandma took her to the vet.’

‘See, you don’t know everything.’ Raoul came to stand over his daughter, his slim wiry frame tense. ‘We both knew there was no help for Bianca. We had no money to go for more visits or to buy medicine.
Abuela
suggested we ease her suffering instead. She said that she would never want to be in pain and keep on going, if she knew things would not get better.’ He sighed, the memories bitter. ‘So we spend the money to put her to sleep. I wasn’t happy about it, but your grandma insisted that once hope was gone, it was better for her to go away peacefully, away from the pain.’

‘Raoul, I don’t think it’s a decision you can make on the spot.’ Scott felt he had to say it, to spare the man from regrets later on. ‘It’s something you should sleep on, don’t you think? Don’t worry about the hospital payments, just focus on your decision.’