Page 65 of Waiting Game

“Because,” I shrugged, “I actually had a good time. We grew up together, you know, he was my best friend. And I miss him,” I confessed.

She rubbed my back to comfort me.

“I’m sorry, Ree, I don’t know what to say to help.”

I smiled, “it’s okay, I don’t expect you to.”

The buzzer rang, which meant someone was calling for Tilly, and she gave me another squeeze on the shoulder before going to tend to the patient. I crossed my arms as I leant against the desk, looking around the ward where I had spent so much of my life - yet now felt so far away from. It felt like I had lived a whole other life since I left not even a week ago.

I looked over at room 72A and without thinking, wandered towards it and checked the nameplate on the door. It still read Andreas’ name and I sighed. Opening the door slowly, I glanced around before I stepped inside. It was still dark in the room but I noticed him looking in my direction as I stood in the doorway.

“Miss Santino,” he said, his voice sounding more hoarse than before I left.

“How are you doing?” I asked, going to his bedside and sitting in the empty chair.

“Fit as a fiddle,” he smiled, sitting up.

I smiled, but could see that he still did not look well.

“How was your holiday? The girls told me that you returned to Melbourne,” he said.

I nodded slowly, “I did.”

“Did you enjoy your time?” he asked.

I sighed, and shrugged.

I didn’t know why I was here, why I came to see this old man who happened to know my father. Perhaps it was unprofessional of me, especially since I wasn’t even supposed to be at work, but this man was the only connection that I had to my family over here. In a strange way, he knew more about me and my problems than those that I had spent years with.

“Can I ask you a question about my father?” I asked, surprising myself.

“Of course, dear,” he said.

“You speak fondly of him. Why?”

“Why do you ask?” he tilted his head to the side.

“I just -” I took a deep breath, “I’m having a hard time accepting who my family is, what they do. Now that my brother has taken over, I worry for him. I worry that he will turn into an evil, heartless monster like my dad.”

Andreas smiled at me and then sighed, “I understand.”

He considered my question for a little while, and then leant forward.

“Your father did indeed do a lot of wrong, I won’t try and convince you otherwise. And yes, some would consider him a monster, I suppose. But I don’t think I would necessarily consider him heartless…” he had a frown on his face and spoke slowly, considering his words carefully.

“Can I tell you my story?” he asked, lowering his voice.

I nodded, leaning forward.

“You see, when I arrived in Australia, I was on the run from the mafia in Italy - I was a poor immigrant with nowhere to go. Your father offered protection for my wife and children. He helped me get a house for my family, and he gave me a job. Of course, it was not the most moral or ‘right’ of jobs, but it wassomething. It gave me purpose. I am not an innocent person, and I don’t claim to be - but even people like me need help. I mean, you know my past, you can assume the things that I’ve done, yet you still provide me with your care. Why?”

I shrugged, and shook my head.

“Because you know that everyone deserves a chance, everyone needs help sometimes. This is why people turn to your family. Not everyone can get the type of help they need in a legal or strictly moral way. This is a big part of your family business that I think you overlook.”

I nodded, looking to the floor.

He reached forward, and grabbed my hand.

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