Page 76 of Your Two Lips
“Finn. Bakker.” I slammed my driver’s license on the counter, and she inspected it. “I know this is important for safety and shit, but this is keeping me from finding out what the hell is going on.” The nurse remained calm.
She handed my ID back. “Your dad is in with the doctors. Your mom is in the family area inside.” She glanced at the security guard I had not yet noticed, and he opened the door for me.
“Thank you.”
I found Mom in a vinyl-cushioned chair in the corner. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and a volunteer was sitting with her.
“Finn.” I made eye contact with the young woman, and she quietly stepped away as I sat next to my mom.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Your father hadn’t been feeling well all day. I thought maybe he was tired. He’s been getting run down more easily these days. I know you guys had a discussion earlier, and I figured some of it was him being upset, so I gave him space.”
I lowered my eyes to our clasped hands. He had been fully purple when I stormed out of his office.
“He ate some soup and a salad, sat in the easy chair for a while, and then went to bed. I could tell something was wrong, but I just thought he was tired.” Her sob came out more like a howl this time. I released her hands and put my arm around her as she sniffed.
“I came to bed later, and he was restless. Said he had indigestion, and it was keeping him up. Then, a little after three, he woke me up. When I turned on the light, he was clutching his chest. He said he couldn’t breathe and the look in his eyes. Finn that look … I called 911. He was awake, and she said I should get him an aspirin. I went to get it, and when I got back, he was unconscious. Finn, he stopped breathing.” Her eyes were wide and filled with tears. “The 911 operator told me to give him mouth to mouth. The paramedics came. I told them to break down the door. I couldn’t leave him. They took over, and we left.”
She was wearing UGG boots, sweatpants with her pajama top, and a long cardigan sweater wrapped around her. A cup of tea sat on the table next to her, untouched.
“Lucas and Tess! I didn’t call them.”
“I took care of it. Lucas is on his way now, and he’s making the arrangements for Tess to fly.”
“Thank God for you, Finn.” She sagged against me, and I hugged her tighter. That was the second time she had thanked God for me, and I was grateful I lived close so that I could be here for them. My fight with Dad ran through my mind like a bad movie montage. The emotion choking my throat made it hard to say anything else for a few minutes, so I just held Mom as she cried.
“He’ll be okay. He’s strong. He’ll live if for no other reason than to make sure I don’t screw up the farm.”
“He is. He’s strong. He’ll pull through. He has to Finn. I can’t live the rest of my days without him.”
“Mom, let’s wait for the doctors. See what they say before we go down that road.”
The clock said it had been thirty minutes, but it felt like hours before a doctor darkened the door and headed our way. Another couple huddled in the opposite corner, and I hoped they were doing better than we were.
The ER doctor, a woman in her late thirties, with dark hair and dark skin hinting at a Native American ancestry, explained that the ECG had confirmed a heart attack.
They stabilized him, but he was going to need surgery right away. They would start prepping him now, and one of the best cardiac surgeons in the country was already on his way from Virginia Mason in Seattle. The doctor left us as Mom shook with another sob.
We were fortunate to have a great hospital so close. One thing about rich people, they wanted easy access to good healthcare, even on vacation. The hospital had been endowed with funds to fly any specialty physician here from anywhere in the state at a moment’s notice. The whole community benefited from that privilege.
47
EMILY
In the throesof my depression last year, my therapist worked with me to practice observing my feelings, good and bad, and letting them come and go instead of struggling to fix them or excuse them. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy. Accept my thoughts and feelings without judging them or myself. Choose a direction I valued. Take action to move in that direction.
Stomping away from Finn after his comments about money was not a direction I valued. I needed to choose a different direction today and take action.
I should have gone for a ride. Mountain biking was like an active form of meditation in the here and now. It was hard to ruminate on anything while navigating a narrow track full of roots and rocks.
I walked into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and my medicine. My healthy thought practices had slipped. I wasn’t going to skip any meds.
Finn saw me as just another woman with money. That stung. I had opened up to him, and I thought he knew me. Why didn’t he trust that?
I needed to tell him the whole truth even though it would start the clock on what we were, but maybe together, we could find a way to let each other go gently.
I owed him an explanation in person.
