The Lighter Side of Large (12 page)

A nurse adjusts an IV and leaves the room. Dr Sullivan says something to Mika and leaves also, closing the door behind him.

I pull up a chair next to the bed and gently take hold of Pa’s hand. “Dad, I’m here,” my voice chokes.

I feel a hand on my back. “Doc says he’s heavily sedated and won’t wake up for several hours. You can stay as long as you like.” I glance up at Mika. “I know you didn’t hear the doc. You never listen when you’re really upset.”

I turn back to Dad and wait. There’s nothing left to do.

“Do you want me to stay?” Mika asks.

I shake my head. “No. I want to be alone with him.”

The door opens behind me. “Call me if you need anything. I won’t tell the kids about the cancer.”

I nod and the door shuts. I appreciate Mika’s kindness and consideration but can’t think of anything right now but Dad. He looked frail before, but now he looks worse. Maybe if he wasn’t hooked up to machines and that cage he’d appear better, but he is and that is that.

I don’t pray a lot, but I feel a driving need to pray now. “Please, God, please don’t let him die,” I plead. “Please make the cancer go away. Don’t take my Dad from me. Not yet. He’s still got so many years left and his grandchildren to be with. He helps so many people. Please, please help him now.”

Dad, despite his battle with cancer and being retired from a career as a historian and curator of the history section of the University of Otago library, still finds time to tutor students and assistant graduates with research. He is a man who gives because he has so much to give and has a loving heart. I can’t imagine him not being there for Abe and Fi as they grow up, imparting his knowledge and wisdom to them. They love their grandfather, the only one they had, since Grandpa Vaega passed away before they were born.

I look at his pale complexion and dark circles under his eyes and shake my head. Dad seemed so healthy before the cancer. He took very good care of himself - ate right, exercised, took vitamins. The diagnosis was as unexpected as this fall. Who could have ever imagined what was in store for him? Unlike you, a voice accuses inside my head.
It is easy to imagine what will happen to you. Overweight, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, can’t walk a few steps without getting short of breath. What are the odds you’ll live as long as Dad? The voice continues. Not good, that’s for sure, I think in reply. And with my luck, I’ll fall over from my weight while trying on shoes or something equally ridiculous and break my own neck.

The thought is like a punch to the stomach. How can I not be around as Abe and Fi grow up? See them go on their first dates, graduate from school, get married? Sure, they’d have their father and Tiresa and Mama Rose to watch over them, but I know what it’s like to have your mother die: the pain of knowing she’s not coming back from the hospital, the darkness which engulfs the future, a future with no mother’s tender love to see you through it. Children need their mother, but am I willing to change myself to be there for them?

I get up and go to the bathroom. The fluorescent light flickers on and I stare at myself in the mirror. “I will change for their sakes and for my sake. I will lose this damn weight and be healthy again. And I will not give up until I do!”

The me in the mirror looks red-eyed, angry and on the verge of tears. There is no victory trumpet blast, no crescendo of music to go along with my vow. There’s just a sniffling fat lady who doesn’t look like she can accomplish anything, let alone lose at least 70kg. But that’s me and I know the spark I feel in my heart. I have to do this. I have to do this for my health and my family.

I also know I need to do it to prove myself worthy to Tiresa and Mika so I can move on and leave them behind. I will not be beaten down during their moment in the spotlight. Dad is right: I need to take charge. Mama Rose is right: I will dust myself off and leave my mistakes behind. I will show Tiresa and Mika that I am worthy. I will prove to Tiresa that I won’t be shunned; I’ll show Mika that I am a desirable person and not a sex object.

“I can do this. I will do this,” I tell the mirror. She doesn’t look convinced, but I’m going to do it anyway.

Back at the bedside, I squeeze Pa’s hand. “Don’t die on me, Dad. I need you. Abe and Fi need you. And I’m taking charge for real. I want you to be proud of me, so stick around, okay?”

Dad lays there, unresponsive. The machine he’s hooked up to blinks. And I continue to pray.

•

The clock above the television reads 2:30 a.m. as I stumble through the door, weary in body but wide awake in mind from worry and caffeine - the white chocolate cappuccino was not decaf and I can still feel its effects hours later. The nurse advised me to go home and get some rest so that when Dad is awake tomorrow I may be there to talk to him.

I drop into the chair at my tiny computer desk and open the laptop. It hesitates a few seconds before the screen pops up from sleep mode. I check my email with the intention of shooting Sands and Riyaan a quick note about Dad and ask them to meet for coffee tomorrow afternoon.

The inbox says I have four messages. One is a twenty percent off anything in the store coupon from Taking Shape; one is from Sands beating me to the request to meet tomorrow for coffee; one is spam that snuck through the spam filter; and one says, “RoMANce wants to chat with you” in the subject line. It’s from the singles site.

I shake my head in disbelief. After the fiasco with Wesley, I changed my weight to my real weight and experienced an abrupt cessation of interested parties. Though I was paid up for three months, I can’t count how many times I got on the site with the intention of deleting my account, but didn’t on the hope that maybe, possibly, some guy would want to get to know me.

I click on the link and log into my account. A record is kept of all communication between members. The email says, “RoMANce sent you a message: Hi. Saw your profile and wanted to introduce myself. Maybe we can chat sometime and see if we have something in common.”

I click on the link to his profile and am disappointed that there’s no photo. However, the rest of his profile is impressive. Too much so, in fact. “Probably a liar looking to score,” I mutter. RoMANce likes fast cars, works in acquisitions, is addicted to coffee, and would like a family of his own one day. He likes sports and old cowboy movies - “Oh no, it’s probably Harrison,” I groan - and a fine bottle of wine on a starry night to share with a special lady. “And he wants to get to know me?” I laugh. Well, I did need a laugh, something to cheer me up after an awful night.

I’m not finished reading his profile when a red chat window pops up: “RoMANce wants to chat: Yes or No?” I gasp. Right now, somewhere in New Zealand, Australia or the islands, a man wants to talk. To me. At 2:30 a.m.

“Why not?” I ask aloud and click on, “Yes.” The chat window changes from red to green.

RoMANce: Hi there. You got my chat request?

ShyNSweet: Yes, just now. Was out late at the hospital, otherwise I wouldn’t have seen your message until tomorrow. I mean later today.

RoMANce: Hospital? Hope everything is all right?

I shake my head in disbelief. Was I really going to talk about Dad with a complete stranger?
Why not,
that voice in my head asks. It’s not like I have anyone else to talk to in the middle of the night. I tap the keys:

ShyNSweet: My father was injured in an accident. It’s pretty bad but I think he’ll pull through.

RoMANce: So sorry. Sending out good thoughts for his speedy recovery.

ShyNSweet: Thank you.

RoMANce: Do you mind me asking what happened? If I’m being too nosy just tell me.

ShyNSweet: No, not at all. He broke his neck in a fall and now has a brace bolted to his head. It’s huge. I don’t know how he’ll stand it because the doctor says he has to wear it for six weeks and remain in hospital. And on top of that, x-rays shows he has cancer again and will need chemo.

RoMANce: That’s a heavy burden for him and you.

How are you handling it?

ShyNSweet: I hardly know. One minute I want to cry and the next I’m angry at life for doing this to him. I want him to be around for a long time. His medical bills are going to be atrocious. I don’t know how he’ll pay them or in-home care if he’ll need it. It’s overwhelming to think about.

RoMANce: He’s lucky to have a daughter like you who cares so much.

ShyNSweet: I’m lucky to have a father like him to care for. At least one good thing has come out of this accident.

RoMANce:???

ShyNSweet: I decided to turn my life around and take better care of myself. I want to be around for my kids for a long time.

RoMANce: Good for you to turn a tragedy into a springboard for change. How are you going to take better care of yourself?

ShyNSweet: I plan to lose A LOT of weight, diet and exercise. I want to get healthy and stay healthy.

RoMANce: Way to go. Do you have a specific diet in mind? Exercise regimen?

ShyNSweet: LOL not yet but a friend of mine who owns a gym will help me out.

RoMANce: Well, congratulations on setting out on this new course in life. I hope we continue chatting because I’d like updates on how you’re doing.

ShyNSweet: Okay. But I’m afraid I might be rather boring. Sweating and starving doesn’t make for very good conversation.

RoMANce: I’ll be the judge of that;^)

ShyNSweet: So what keeps you up until 2am?

RoMANce: A large non-decaf coffee

ShyNSweet: LOL I know the feeling. Hey, it’s been nice chatting with you but I really need to get some sleep before heading back to the hospital tomorrow.

RoMANce: Will you be online again soon? Mind if we chat some more?

ShyNSweet: Not at all. I usually get online after 10pm.

RoMANce: Then I hope to catch you again around 10pm. Goodnight ShyNSweet.

ShyNSweet: Goodnight.

I log off the site, and shut the laptop. “That was interesting,” I say to myself. RoMANce seems nice and considerate, but I hope he’s for real and not a Harrison, Wesley or Mika in disguise. I’ve had enough of men who are stuck on themselves. For once, it is nice to talk to a man who shows interest and concern in my life. Me, my problems, my goals, and not my body and what they can get from it.

Yes, I think as I crash into bed,
it’s very nice.

•

It’s 3 o’clock at Café Crave and everyone is there on time.

“You look like heck,” Sands says as I deposit my butt into a chair and my bunch of keys on the table. “Not another Wesley date, I hope.”

Riyaan throws her a disgusted glare. “Do you always have to do that, insult my girl Bella? Why do you have to be such a hater?”

“Riyaan, she’s fine,” I defend Sands. “She’s always been this way and I always ignore her. No, Sands, I did not have another Wesley date, though I did see him again, but that’s another story. My pa’s in hospital and I was there half there night.”

“What’s wrong?” both my friends asked in unison.

“He broke his neck,” I reply.

“You’re kidding! How’d it happen?” Sands gasps.

“He slipped in the yard or something - he can’t remember clearly. A neighbor found him and they rushed him to A & E and surgically implanted bolts into his neck to keep a head and neck brace on him. He has to stay there for six weeks. He had surgery last night and was sedated until late this morning. At least I was there when he woke up.”