ROAR (20 page)

“Hello, Liz. How are you?” Kristoffer moved to the window and stared out blindly. He’d been feeling alone without Pamela here. This call helped connect him to the outside world.

“How’s Victoria? They won’t tell us anything over the phone.” Well into Tori’s second year at the nursing home, her parents had stopped visiting more than once or twice a year. Seeing her that way had become too painful. Because there was no hint that his wife knew her parents were there, it made no sense putting them through that anguish any more often. As they were getting up in age, the drive from St. Louis was hard on them, too.

“She’s doing a little better as far as the pneumonia goes. Seems to be responding to the antibiotics.” He was glad he’d chosen to have them treat the infection aggressively. After watching her struggle to breathe, along with intermittent coughing fits, Kristoffer needed her to be comfortable above all else. As long as they found drugs that worked, he wanted her treated.

He hadn’t shared the news about the biopsy yet, but now was as good a time as any. “Liz, there’s a new development you two should know about, though.”

“What’s that?” The wariness in her voice told him she knew it wouldn’t be good.

“They’re running some pathology tests because they found some suspicious spots on her lung x-rays. It could just be the infection. Or benign tumors. But it could also mean cancer.”

“Ron! Come quick!” Liz’s cry tore his guts out. When Ron came to the phone asking what had happened, Kristoffer repeated the news.

“What kind of God would put her through anything more?” Ron demanded.

Kristoffer couldn’t answer that. He’d given up on believing in the merciful God of his childhood long ago. If anything, he’d shifted to believing in the Norse god Thor, the sometimes-ruthless deity FarFar had told him and Gunnar about in countless stories.

The physicians all said that she’d be bombarded with infections over time and one would eventually be too much for her to fight off. He’d accepted that, but to give her cancer, too, would be inordinately cruel. “I’ll know more after the pathology report comes back. Maybe in a couple more days. Do you want me to call and consult with you before deciding how to proceed?”

Silence on the other end of the call. Then Liz was on the phone again. “You don’t plan to put her through chemo or radiation, do you?”

Tori’s parents had voiced their opinion long ago that heroic measures only resulting in prolonging their daughter’s existence should be off the table.

Yesterday, he’d given the doctor a knee-jerk response to the question of further treatments, if cancer was detected. But maybe he needed to rethink that. She’d suffered enough. As long as they could assure him that she wouldn’t be in pain—was there enough morphine in the world to do that?—he’d forego chemo or radiation treatments. While the thought of watching her starve to death gave him nightmares and was the reason he hadn’t pulled the PEG tube years ago, he couldn’t put her through anything more. He needed to be fair to Tori.

“Liz, if it comes down to a positive diagnosis, I’ll pull the PEG tube before the treatments, too, can ravage her.”

He was aware he’d have to go Tori’s last moments alone. Her parents were aging and lived two states away. They wouldn’t be able to watch their daughter die, not that it would be any easier for him.

Liz spoke next. “We agreed long ago that any medical procedures done would be up to you, son.” He wished they’d tell him he was doing the right thing. A long pause ensued. “We’ll support you in whatever you choose to do.”

Kristoffer drew a slow, deep breath. Being burdened with having to make such decisions on his own left him feeling extremely alone at times like these. He wished he had someone to consult with to help him know what was the right thing to do. Or what was best for Tori. Gunnar had helped some in the past, but he had a lot on his plate right now.

Kristoffer had never known if he’d made any of the right choices, not from day one. Still, Gunnar had always supported his judgment.

What would Pamela suggest? She was a doctor. Maybe he’d talk with her if he needed to make the decision to begin or suspend treatment.

As her guardian, he’d go on trying to do the best he could to keep her comfortable.

Ron broke the silence. “Liz and I will come out for a visit soon. Keep us informed about her condition and the test results in the meantime.”

“Of course, Ron. You know I will.”

They disconnected the call, leaving Kristoffer alone again. He leaned his forehead against the chilled window pane, staring down at the parking lot. A man carrying a giant teddy bear walked beside a little girl holding a pink helium balloon on a string.

A celebration of new life.

Suddenly, the girl’s balloon broke free and began drifting away from her. He couldn’t hear her distressed screams through the window, but his attention flew to the balloon as it floated up and mesmerized him for some reason. Above the enormous air conditioning vents on the hospital wing just in front of him, the balloon seemed to stop to dance and undulated just a few yards away from the window.

Tori’s rattling cough broke into the silence and made him return to her bedside only to watch helplessly as she gasped for breath. The rattle in her chest was more pronounced. He pushed the button, calling for a nurse.

How much more would she have to bear before she could be set free of her dying body?

As much as you force her to endure.

His anger at a God who would do this surged within him, and he fisted his hand before punching something. But his anger would only serve to agitate Tori more, so he willed himself to calm down.

Maybe there was no God at all. Certainly not a benevolent one. He imagined the God of Thunder swooping in to destroy everything keeping him from being with Tori on this earthly plane again.

But even the mighty Thor couldn’t eradicate the shell of the body surrounding Tori.

Only Kristoffer could do that—by removing the feeding tube. He banished the thought from his mind.

When the nurse and tech came in together, he explained that her breathing was labored, and they said they were see what the doctors had ordered. Perhaps they could give her enough morphine to…

Disgusted with where his mind was going, he left the room. As he passed the nurses’ station, someone called out.

“Mr. Larson, the cookies were amazing!”

He turned to find a young brunette in flowery scrubs. “Cookies?”

She pointed to a huge catering tray on the high counter surrounding the desk where he saw a few remaining cookies and some crumbs under a plastic covering.

“Please tell your friend we appreciate her thinking of us, too, and going to the trouble to bake them.”

Friend? No one had been here except Pamela. Had she made cookies for them? When had she been here? The staff had been allowing him to spend more time in Tori’s room since she seemed calmer when he was there, so he hadn’t been out in the waiting room most of the day.

Why hadn’t she texted him to let him know she was here?

“Would you care for one?”

He reached for one of the macadamia nut cookies, having skipped a couple of meals today. “Thanks.” She’d probably be long gone, but he held out hope she’d be in the waiting room so he went directly there and scanned the crowded seating area. No Pamela.

Of course, he wouldn’t have expected or wanted her to be sitting down here for hours on end if she didn’t have to. That she’d taken the time to bring the tray down for the ICU staff was nothing less than he’d expect of the generous servant soul she possessed. He noted a similar tray of cookies on one of the coffee tables. Always taking care of the needs of others.

I miss you, Pamela.

Shaken by thoughts of Pamela at a time his mind should be focused on Tori, he was drawn to the chapel for the first time in years, where he sat and stared at the abstract mural on the wall. Lit from behind, it depicted what he interpreted as a sun with flames, or perhaps the sun’s rays, radiating out from the center.

He sent up a prayer of sorts that Tori would be made comfortable again and healed from whatever infection was attacking her body. Conversely, his next prayer was for his wife to be taken to heaven while sleeping, without having to suffer a minute longer. He blinked away the sting in his eyes at making such an unholy request.

His eyelids grew heavy. So tired. He probably shouldn’t attempt to drive home tonight. He’d nap here a few minutes where it was quiet and set an alarm on his phone to wake him to go back upstairs to check on Tori.

The beeping of his watch jolted him awake, and it took him a moment to remember where he was. As if weighted down by chain mail, he stood and left the chapel feeling not one ounce of solace. Inside her room again, he was relieved to see she rested peacefully, as far as anyone could tell. Not wanting to disturb her, he tiptoed back out, unsure what to do with himself. The smell of coffee reached him as he entered the waiting room again, and Pamela stood a few feet away, holding a takeout cup toward him.

“You look like you could use this.”

He’d never needed her more than tonight. “You’re my angel of mercy.” He smiled and accepted the steaming brew. “What are you doing here?” he asked, unable to muster up the energy to be upset with her.

She shrugged. “I’ve been worried about you.”

He scowled. “I appreciate that, but there’s nothing you can do here.”

She squared her shoulders. “Nonsense. I can help take care of you so you can be there for Tori. You look exhausted. When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

“I had a nap earlier.”

“How about food? Have you eaten today?”

“Yeah. One of your cookies. That was incredibly thoughtful of you. The nurses asked me to extend their thanks as well.”

“You know me. Need to stay busy. But surely that’s not all you’ve had to eat all day!”

Hoping to change the subject, he took a sip of the coffee. “God, that’s good.” He motioned her to have a seat, but she crossed her arms instead.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Bossy little thing. “I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am, so I’ll buy. I saw a nice place just around the corner.”

He stared at her a long moment, ready to say he needed to stay near Tori, but something kept him from voicing the words. Instead, he said, “You aren’t paying, or I’m not going.”

The corners of her mouth started to curl into a smile before she caught herself, trying to remain stern, he supposed. “If you insist.” She buttoned her jacket and turned to lead the way to the elevators without another word.

Kristoffer grinned, silently thanking her for this reprieve. It had been a long, depressing day.

When they sat across from each other, enjoying two cold beers and a plate of mozzarella sticks, she leaned toward him resting on her forearms. “Has there been any improvement today?”

He shook his head. “Not a lot. She wasn’t coughing the last time I went in to see her. I know it’s early in her treatment, but it kills me hearing her struggle to breathe. Last time she had pneumonia, she was in the hospital almost a month.”

“Not unusual, really. How many times has she had it?”

“This is the third time.”

Pamela rested her hand on his sleeve. “How do you deal with everything alone?”

He took a sudden interest in their shared appetizer. When she continued to wait for a response, he asked, “What choice do I have?”

Actually, he’d made a number of choices already and would have to live with the consequences.

“You don’t have to shoulder it all alone.” Apparently, she didn’t take the hint that he wanted to drop this subject. “We’re friends now, Kristoffer.”

“If I thought you’d take no for an answer, I’d go on the way I always have.”

“Well, I won’t. It’s time for you to think of yourself in this equation, too.” Her sweet smile belied the determination in her eyes.

“Are you this insistent with your patients?”

“Much worse.” She grinned.

While he ought to be ticked that she wanted to barge into his personal life, he remembered how she’d made coping easier for him the past few days. Maybe coping wasn’t the right word.

No. She made life more pleasant. He’d actually found some enjoyment in their times together over meals and the other night at the jazz club.

“I’ll concede that I’m enjoying my time with you, Pamela Jeffrey.”
Whether I should or not.
“I’d like to continue spending time with you.”

*     *     *

The next day flew by in a blur of running errands for hot cups of coffee and cold sandwiches after Tori spiked a fever. Convincing Kristoffer to leave her bedside wouldn’t be easy, but Pamela did what she could to make sure he didn’t come down sick himself. She kept Gunnar updated via texts, but sometime midafternoon, she turned toward the elevator alcove to see him approaching.

“How’s he holding up?” he asked without preliminaries.

Kristoffer was back with Tori as he had been most of the day, so she could speak freely. “Not very well. He’s barely left her side today.” She’d kept Gunnar informed about everything she was aware of.

“Maybe the ICU staff can restrict access by telling him they’re overcrowded or something.” Kristoffer did need to take a break every now and then. “Is he eating? Sleeping enough?”

“No, but even before Tori’s fever spiked, I hadn’t been able to talk him into leaving the hospital more than once a day, usually for a quick bite, and then back he’d go. He might catch naps here and there, but not enough to matter.” He sighed, just as frustrated as she was. “Any suggestions would be welcomed, Gunnar. You know him better.”

“I’ve been down this road with him before. I’m sure you’re doing as much as I’d be able to. He can be stubborn when it comes to anything related to Tori.”

Do tell.

“How comfortable are you playing the Domme?”

“Excuse me?”

“You may have to drag him home at least for one night’s sleep.”

Ohhh!
That
kind of Domme
. She smiled. “I’ll see what I can manage.”

He smiled for the first time since he’d arrived. “I can’t tell you what a relief it’s been for me that you’ve been with him the past few days. I’ve only been able to stop by once before this, so I owe you.”