I'm Still Here Page 11
O.K. told me more of his life story. I felt like we were always talking about my messed up family and me, and I wanted to know where O.K. came from. It turned out that O.K.'s life story could not have been more different from mine. He was an only child, and he had grown up in a small city about thirty miles east of Columbus. He had gone to Ohio State, so he'd lived his whole life in Ohio. His mom had passed away from breast cancer when O.K. was in high school and his dad quickly remarried. His stepmother, who he called "Mom," had two kids from her first marriage, so O.K. finally got the siblings he'd always wanted.
"So, you call your stepmother "Mom?"
"Yeah. Why? Is that weird?"
"No, I think it's funny. I don't call my mom "Mom." My parents have always insisted that we call them by their first names."
"I noticed that you referred to them that way. I just thought it was because you were estranged."
"No, it's because they're strange. From the time we were little, that is what we called them. So when most parents are mimicking babbling for their kids to say 'Ma-ma' and 'Da-da,' my parents were trying to get us to say 'Cheryl' and 'Dean.'"
"Somehow, it doesn't quite have the same ring, does it?"
I laughed. "No, not at all. And it totally negates the whole normal childhood speech development thing. But things like that never mattered to Cheryl and Dean. They lived, and still live, in their own world where they think the normal rules don't apply."
"So, they live in Minnesota now? But that's not where you grew up, right?"
"No, I didn't grow up in Minnesota. We didn't move there until I was eleven."
"Where were you before that?"
"We lived in upstate New York, but we moved around there a few times. Then we went to Colorado for about six months before we landed in Minnesota."
"See, I'm kind of jealous of that. I still live within a half hour of where I grew up. I went to college for a semester at Miami, which is a little north of Dayton. I didn't like it, so I transferred to Ohio State. And I stayed there for med school."
"But to me that sounds wonderful. You have roots. You have a home. I feel like a transient vagabond. And with each move, I lost a sibling or two. Charlie, the oldest, is twelve years older than us, I mean than I am. Once we started moving, it was time for the older kids to go to college. Or they were working and didn't want to leave. With each move, the family was smaller and smaller. By the time we landed in Minnesota, it was only Mike, Aster and me left."
"I bet that was hard."
"Yeah, the family kept splintering. Now, Charlie lives outside Albany, New York. Violet lives in New York City. Gus lives in Boulder. Veruca lives in St. Paul—she moved to Minnesota because of her husband's job with 3M, not because of my parents. And Mike is in Oregon."
"Wow, you are all really spread out, aren't you?"
"Yeah, and I keep moving myself. Looking for a place to call home, I guess."
"Where have you lived?"
"Since leaving Minnesota, I've lived in Vegas, Boston, Florida and now Ohio. But always big cities. I've had enough of the country living."
"Did your parents always live in the middle of nowhere?"
"Yeah, pretty much. On the outskirts of civilization. Maybe a small town. Easier to maintain their hippy lifestyle when you're not on a cul-de-sac."
The conversation was easy, but so was the quiet. It was not an uneasy silence. We were okay being in each other's space without the need to fill the void with useless words. It was easy to get lost in my thoughts. I was nervous. About seeing my family. That Dean wouldn't make it. That he would and he would be angry with me for coming.
We had decided that we would be stopping at the next rest area for fuel, food and facilities. We were approaching Wisconsin and were really making good time. We'd found a radio station that played pretty much anything from the '70s through current day. We'd gotten a good thirty minutes with that station, singing along to the eclectic mix of music. The static started creeping in, and rather than search for a new station, I turned the radio off.
"I feel that I need to warn you. My family, it's ... it's not like yours."
"No one's family is like mine. And no one is like yours. We're all different."
I shook my head. "No, that's not what I mean. I mean, my family. Well, we're related by blood, but that's it. We just happen to be people who share DNA. It is not the loving, caring, supportive environment that it should be. You need to know that before you walk in."
"I'm just your chauffeur." He looked over and smiled at me. "I'd say it doesn't matter to me what they say, but it does. I don't want you to be hurt again. I think they've hurt you enough."
I returned his smile.
"So who all will be in Minnesota?"
"Everyone."
"They're all there?"
"Yeah, Cheryl wanted everyone to come in to be together. They purposely scheduled Dean's surgery out a day so that he would have a chance to see all of his children before he went in."
"But ..."
"He no longer considers me his child. I'm surprised he consented to the surgery without having seen Aster first."
"But that's crazy."
"I know," I shrugged. "It is what it is though. It hurts. He yearns for a daughter who chose not to live and ignores the daughter that does. I wish I could change it, but I can't."
We were stopped by this point at the gas pump. The morning sun was bright and the fall air was crisp. I got out of the car and started stretching. When I stood up, O.K. was standing there in front of me. He looked directly into my eyes. I could see the sadness that his eyes held and I knew it was for me. He took me in his arms and hugged me. I put my head on his shoulder and held on to him.
Standing there, in his arms, he said to me quietly, "You are deserving of love and respect. You have done nothing wrong." I closed my eyes as he said this, the tears slipping slowly down my cheeks. "I cannot imagine what special powers Aster must have held that have prevented your family from seeing what a remarkable and wonderful woman you are. It is their loss." With my body pressed up against his, it didn't matter how bad my family was. All was right in the world.
"Thank you for saying that. I try to tell myself that, but I don't always listen to me." I lifted my head and looked at him, giving a weak smile, which was the best I could do.
"If you don't listen to you, who else will?"
I put my head back down on his shoulder and let him hold me for a minute. I could have stayed there forever, but a rather impatient (or you could say nasty) woman in a minivan started yelling, "Pump or get a room. Either way, MOVE! Jesus Christ!"
O.K. broke the hold, but not before giving me a quick kiss on the top of my head. "Why don't you go in and order me a breakfast sandwich and coffee while I pump. I'll meet you inside."
We ate quickly, took care of our other needs, and got back on the road with a full tank of gas, full bellies and empty bladders. Two more states and I would be with my family for the first time in four years. How would they react? I wanted to think that they would be happy to see me. I wanted Dean to treat me like the prodigal daughter returned, but I was more confident that I would still be treated like Judas the traitor.
I was driving now, and O.K., despite the coffee in his hand, appeared to be dozing off. I reached over, removed the coffee and put it in the cup holder. He wasn't dozing off; he was in a dead sleep. I guess doctors were used to grabbing sleep where they could. Thinking about my family was exhausting. I knew nothing I did would change their minds. My parents would always see Aster as their golden child, the light in their world.
I kept stealing glances at O.K. who was zonked out. He was really adorable. I had thought he was attractive when I first fell out of my car and into his arms, but his support and friendship had made him downright irresistible to me. I focused on this for a while. I needed to think about something other than my messed up family. So I thought about O.K. while I drove. There was a small part of me that wanted to pull off of I-90 and into a hotel
so I could have my way with him. I wondered what he would think of that. He was so sweet and thoughtful towards me, but I didn't know if he saw me as a friend, a charity case, or something more. I would not be one of those psycho girls who read too much into everything and misinterpreted every little nuance. I would play it cool and calm and let him take the initiative.
"What's going on between us?" I blurted out, waking him up.
"Huh? What? Did you say something?" O.K. was obviously a little groggy. He must have been in a deep sleep. Oops.
"Oh, I, ahh, I, um was just singing along with the radio." I turned up the volume a little and prayed it was a song I knew. "Sorry to wake you up. Go back to sleep."
He shifted around and was quickly back out. I did start singing along but tried to keep my voice low. Singing helped me pass the time, and before I knew it, we were in Minnesota. Literally, in the home stretch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
"I guess if you're going to need an operation, being a patient at the Mayo Clinic is probably the best you can hope for." O.K. was looking around as we walked in the main doors of St. Mary's Hospital. One of the two hospitals of the Mayo Clinic that put Rochester, Minnesota, on the map, St. Mary's housed the experts in heart surgeries, including cutting-edge use of robotics and transplantation. I'm not going to lie, it was reassuring that Dean's doctor in Winona had pulled some strings to get Dean transferred here. Especially considering that Dean was such a critic of Western medicine. I had much more confidence that Dean would make it through the surgery and have a good outcome, having been a patient at the world-renowned Mayo Clinic.
Like most large hospitals, there was construction all over the place, which made it difficult to get from point A to point B. I could tell O.K. was itching to pull out the "doctor" card and geek out with the great minds that were here, but he was trying to stay cool and aloof. Perhaps he was trying to impress me with his cool? Dammit, there I was, overanalyzing and over interpreting his every move. Again. I gave myself a mental slap on the forehead and continued to get lost as I tried to find the cardiac surgical waiting room. The patient representative at the front information desk had indicated that Dean was still in surgery.
Following directions from the third person I asked, I finally found myself in the correct wing. But try as I might, I could not force my feet to take one more step closer. I didn't want to cause a scene, and I knew my presence would do nothing but. I looked at O.K. and whispered apologetically, "I don't think I can do it. I can't go in there."
He took my hand and said, "That's okay. You don't have to for now. Why don't you text your sister and ask her to come out here. Then you can at least find out what is going on."
I simply stood there, holding his hand and looking at him. I think I was trying to draw strength from him. I don't know what I would have done without him in that moment. I had been on my own for so long. Even as a teenager, everyone supported Aster, including me. I don't think it ever occurred to my family that I needed support as well. I nodded and gave O.K. another tight smile. "Okay, I'm going to text her. I can do this." My words were as much for me as they were for him.
I was still preparing myself to text Charlie when a nurse in scrubs exited the waiting room. She looked at us standing there, obviously nervous. Obviously afraid to go inside. "May I help you?"
O.K. nudged me slightly. Drawing in a deep breath, I said, "Um, my father's in surgery. He's having a quadruple bypass done."
"Have you received any information on him yet?"
"Um, no. I, we, just got here. The rest of my family I'm sure is in the waiting room. I was working up the courage to go inside."
The nice nurse smiled, almost a bit patronizingly. "There's coffee and refreshments inside. It's much more comfortable in there than standing out here in this hallway."
"Oh, it's not that I'm afraid to go in the waiting room per se, it's more, well, I'm estranged from my family. They don't know that I'm coming. I don't want to cause a ruckus going in there, but I’m anxious to know how he's doing. Is there any way that you could get me an update on my father? His name is Dean Comely."
"No, I'm afraid I can only give information to the people that he's indicated."
"I understand. We'll go inside in a minute."
The nurse hustled off and I had to start prepping myself again. There were people all over the place, but I was still surprised to be tapped on the shoulder. "Yes?" I said, addressing a male nurse in pale green scrubs.
"I didn't mean to be eavesdropping. My name is Carson, and I was your father's nurse for the last few days. You're his daughter?"
"Yes, I am and this is my friend, Dr. Kingston Cole. I haven't seen or spoken to my father in a number of years. I've been a bit out of touch with the family. But I, well, I couldn't stay away when I heard he was sick. I just don't want to upset everyone by walking in there."
"Praise Jesus!" exclaimed Carson. "Your father's prayers have been answered!" Carson was a bit on the flamboyant side. He had dyed canary yellow hair that looked even brighter against his cocoa skin.
"'My father's prayers? I think we may be talking about different people. The Dean Comely I know is not at all religious. He is the definition of a lapsed Catholic."
"Oh, don't I know it, Sugar. But that man, well, I've been prayin' for his heart to open up. He told me the only thing that could make it happen is for his daughter to show up, and well, here you are. He said he did wrong by you and he needed to make amends and tell you he was wrong before his work here was done. He's gonna be so happy to see you. He said he messed up so badly, and he was afraid he'd never get to fix it. But here you are. Tell you what, I'm gonna go get an update for you. I can't wait 'til that cranky ole man wakes up. I'm gonna tell him that Jesus came through for him big time."
I smiled at O.K. Things were going to work out. Dean was ready to apologize. He wanted me back in his life. He knew what he had done wrong. He knew how he had hurt me. He didn't want to die before he made amends. I leaned against the wall, needing something to keep me upright after the relief flooded through me. Slowly, I sank down so I was sitting, back against the wall and knees to my chest. O.K. sat down on the floor next to me.
I started talking. "I know that I should be strong, but you don't know what it means to me that he knows he was wrong. I mean, my parents have hurt me in indescribable ways."
"Oh, you described them pretty well."
"The sad thing is, they're not bad people. I don't think they willingly set out to hurt me. I don't have kids, so I can't say, but even though I know you're not supposed to have favorites, they probably couldn't help it that Aster was theirs. And when she got sick and got out of control, they couldn't handle it."
"Couldn't or didn't?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Part of me thinks that their brains were so warped from drugs and lifestyle brainwashing that they literally did not have the ability to handle it. I don't think they ever set out to hurt me. I became the scapegoat, because I was there too. They lashed out at me because I was a reminder of everything they lost with Aster. I can rationalize why they did it."
"But it doesn't make it acceptable."
"No, it will never be acceptable. But I’ll do my very best to let the hurt go and move on. This is such a huge step. The least I can do is meet him halfway."
O.K. put his arm around my shoulders and I snuggled into him. "And I will never be able to thank you enough for, well, for everything you've done. I wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't made me, and then to put everything on hold to drive up here with me ..."
O.K. interrupted my rambling with a kiss. It was slow and gentle at first, but the intensity started to build. I was needy, hungrily devouring his mouth.
"Lawd, you two ought to get a room!" Carson was back.
O.K. broke away with a huge grin on his face. His eyes never left mine. "If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that ..."
"You'd have ten cents," I finished. I turned my attention toward Carson and, wiping my
mouth, said, "Were you able to get an update?" I stood up and brushed off my bottom. I was still in the yoga pants and fleece that I had slept in last night in preparation for a long day in the car. I didn't even want to think about what the hair was doing.
"They're closing him up now. He came through great. There were four arteries that needed to be bypassed and another that they put a stent in. He'll be in recovery for a few hours and will go to the CICU for the night. He is stable and should have a good recovery."
"Oh, thank God."
"Praise God is right. I can't wait to tell him his prayers were answered."
"Thank you Carson for all you've done. You will never know how much it means to me."
"No problem. I wish I could be there to see his face when he sees that his long-lost daughter came back for him. I tole him and I tole him, 'Keep the faith and she will come back.' And here you are Miz Aster, here you are."
I froze, my blood cold. "What did you call me?"
"Oh, I was just trying to be polite by adding the 'Miss.' I guess with a name like Aster, adding the 'Miss' makes it sound a little too close to disaster."
"You called me 'Aster?'"
"Well, that's your name, ain't it? How many long-lost daughters can Dean have? There's a whole mess of kids in the waiting room as it is."
I stood up ram-rod straight. "I'm his other daughter, Esther."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
"I don't know how to say this without it sounding awful."
I looked at O.K. Was he really going to kick me when I was this down? We were sitting on a bench outside of St. Mary's. After the wonderfully enlightening interaction with Carson, I high tailed it out of the hospital, leaving O.K. in my wake. He caught up with me, standing in front of the main doors. I'm pretty sure I had a bewildered look on my face. I didn't know where to go or what to do next. I wanted to just go, get the car and drive home. So what that I had been on the road for almost eleven hours already today? I could drive twenty-two hours out of twenty-four. I had enough anger to fuel me.