Page 52 of Over My Dead Boss
I can’t ask him to do that. It’s sweet of him to offer, but I have been plenty selfish.
Sure, he might actually care about me, but ours was a relationship build on borrowed time, or extorted time to be more precise. This had to end eventually and maybe now is the right time. A clean cut. So he doesn’t have to deal with my problems anymore. So he can go back to live his life without the interference from weird strangers stalking and annoying him.
“That’s very nice of you to offer, Phoenix. But I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve already done too much. All this…” I motion towards the plane. “This is already way too much. I don’t deserve this. I…”
“It’s ok,” he says, framing my face with both his hands, kissing me deeply.
The propellor speeds up, and I have to shout over the noise. “It’s really not. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. It was nice knowing you. I wish this could have ended differently…”
From behind us, the pilot shouts that he is good to go.
“I am sorry, Phoenix. I have to go.”
My face still embraced in his hands, Phoenix nods and places a kiss on my forehead. “Of course,” he says with a raspy voice.
This was not how I wanted whatever this was between Phoenix and me to end. Maybe I didn’t want this to end at all. But it’s for the best. We both knew it had to end at some point. Him being him; me being me. Him pretending to be dead here; me trying to make a life for myself there. It could’ve never worked. Not in the long run. I look out of the window and onto the tiny trees down below. The sound of the plane, despite the headset I’m wearing, is deafening. My head is already bursting with worry and thoughts of my dad. When we land, maybe an hour or two later, there is a limo waiting that takes me straight to the hospital. When I enter his room, I find my mom grasping my dad’s hand, pressing her forehead against it. She shoots up when I come in.
“Olli, how did you get here so fast?” She begs me over, then embraces me with one of her bear hugs, shaking as if in a frenzy. Both of us sob, my mom more violently than I. Dad is unconscious, hooked up to a bunch of machines, and I am almost out of tears. My eyes hurt and my sleeves are drenched in snot.
“With a little help from my… boss,” I say finally as I regain composure and even my mom seems to calm a little. “What happened?”
“I’m so glad you’re here, Ol,” she stammers. “I just don’t know what to do. What should I do? He was just reading the paper, while I went to buy groceries. And when I returned, he was lying on the floor, barely breathing, wheezing. And now we’re here and I don’t know what to do.”
“Calm down, mom. It’s gonna be ok, I’m here now. Let me worry about everything. You just be there for him, ok?”
She takes his hand and rubs it against her face, praying for him to wake up.
“I thought he was doing so well,” I say as I try to comfort her by patting her back.
“He was,” mom smiles through her tears. “It was great. The last couple of weeks have been some of the best we’ve had in forever.”
It takes some time, but eventually I can get her mind out of the negative spiral it was in. The two of us spend the rest of the night talking. Talking about everything my parents had been up to since we last saw each other, which includes couple’s massages, picking strawberries in a field, as well as a visit to a sex museum which I didn’t need to know about. It’s still comforting to know that even after all these years and the hardship they have been through, they still feel this way about each other.
I tell her about my scavenger hunt for the manuscript, but omit any mention of whatever happened between Phoenix and I. There really is no need to burden her with my heartache as well. Not with dad laying here. The intubation machine does its thing which calms me down a bit. Thoughts of Phoenix randomly pop-up throughout the night and I feel guilty because of it. I shouldn’t be thinking about my insignificant problems when my dad is about to die.
When the sun comes up, a nurse checks in on him, taking his vital signs and monitoring the machines. Of course, she doesn’t know when he’ll wake up again or if he’ll wake up at all. Since his vital signs are stable, I tell my mom to go home, get some sleep, take a shower, and return later that day. After some resistance, she complies, and I am left alone with dad. A steady beeping, and the sound of air being generated, fill the room with an eerie calmness. I hold his hand and hope for him to wake up.
It’s not like this is coming out of the blue, it’s not even like this is the first time of him coming close to death. We always knew it would happen at some point, but it still feels surreal. I check my phone to find a message from Phoenix waiting.
Phoenix: I hope everything went well and that your dad will be alright. Call me if you need anything or just want to talk.
- Phoenix
I chuckle at the fact that he signs his messages.
Olivia: Thank you. I really don’t know how I can ever repay you. My dad is unconscious, but stable for now. I am still waiting for the doctor, but dad’s alive, so that’s good.
I send the message, then think about what else I should tell him, what else I wanted to tell him when he was seeing me off.
Olivia: When I first met you, I didn’t think I would come to like you this much… or at all, to be honest. It wasniftybeing able to work and live with you. I promise, your secret is safe with me. I will not tell a living soul. (Except for Sienna, but she’s dead on the inside anyway, so…) Please give Dog her well-deserved head scratches from me and let Nana and Ryker know that I am sorry I couldn’t say goodbye properly. I will come and pick up Carla and whatever else I might have left once I get the chance.
- Olivia (your former assistant/editor/bodyguard/seamstress/personal stylist/undertaker and current admirer)
Before I can hit send, the door opens and a grumpy-looking man in his late 50s walks in. He is wearing a white coat and a stethoscope, and obviously tries to be as friendly and professional as possible when he shakes my hand.
“I am afraid there’s not much we can do at this point,” he explains. “We can’t be certain if he sustained any brain damage from lack of oxygen during his episode. We will monitor him around the clock and hope he wakes up soon, but unfortunately there is no guarantee.” The doctor flips through some charts. “I understand your dad has filled out the respective patient’s provision, which means, according to his wishes, we will shut down any life-extending measures after a week.”
“The ventilator,” I mumble and rub my eyes as my face heats up.
