Without thinking, I reached out and took the man’s hand. My eyes welled up as the hand didn’t respond to my touch. I just knew someone needed to comfort him at that moment, no matter what he had done in his life. I saw Jack’s jaw tense out of the corner of my eye, but he didn’t say a word.

“He shouldn’t be alone now,” I whispered to Jack.

Jack studied me for a moment and eventually nodded his head, taking my other hand in his.

Hours went by, but it felt like days as we sat and waited for the doctor to come in. When the doctor finally arrived, he explained that they were going to take him for a head scan to check for brain activity and we would know more after we received the results. When the transporters came to take him, the nurses suggested we go find some coffee and breakfast.

I told Jack that we should probably call Betty, as I sipped my coffee looking out the window at the rush hour traffic outside. He agreed, but I was surprised when he handed me his phone. I gave Betty an update and promised to call her when I had more news.

***

It was at least three hours later, and we had resumed our positions next to Mr. Heston’s bed, by the time the Doctor came back. I watched for any sign of life as I held his hand, but the more time that passed, the less hope I had.

“Can we speak out in the hallway, Mr. and Mrs. Heston?” The doctor’s voice was somber and I didn’t think our conversation was going to bring good news.

Jack and I followed him dutifully to the hall, our clamped hands never loosening. “I’m sorry to tell you, but the repeat scan found no brain activity. It’s been twelve hours, so the chances of any meaningful recovery have drastically decreased. We will repeat the scan in twelve hours before making a final diagnosis, but, at this point, you may want to begin to prepare yourself.” The doctor paused to let us take in the enormity of what he had just told us.

“Does your father have a DNR?” The doctor looked to us both, and I looked to Jack.

“I have no idea.” Jack squeezed my hand as he spoke.

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“Is there anyone that would know?”

Jack didn’t respond. I put my free hand on Jack’s arm. He was squeezing my hand so tightly that my fingers were starting to go numb. He looked down at me in response to my touch.

“Betty, maybe?” I had no idea who else Mr. Heston was close enough to entrust anything of that magnitude to.

Jack nodded and looked back to the Doctor. “We will make some calls. Thank you, Doctor.”

***

The next twelve hours felt like months. The nurses suggested we leave and come back, since there was no change in his status, but Jack didn’t seem to want to go anywhere and I thought that Mr. Heston shouldn’t be left alone anyway. I knew how Jack felt about the man, but there are times in life when all old grudges and animosities have to be set aside, and it was definitely one of those times.

By the time the doctor came back after the third scan, I was already sure what it would confirm. I had sat with Mr. Heston’s cold, lifeless hand in mine for almost a full day and I already knew that the man was gone. The shell was still being kept alive by machines, but my heart told me that his life that once was, was over.

The doctor confirmed my suspicion and we called Betty to messenger over the original DNR form that she had already faxed to the hospital. Even though I had never met Betty, I knew who she was when I saw Jack’s reaction to the older woman walking through the ICU toward us. He looked at her the way a boy looked at his mother. I knew she had been with Mr. Heston since Jack was a baby, but the way he looked at her confirmed that they had all been close once.

“You didn’t have to bring it down yourself, Betty.” Jack’s words said one thing, but I could tell he was comforted by the woman’s appearance.

Betty reached out and pulled Jack into a hug. “You boys are my family, this is where I belong.”

Jack nodded and attempted a small smile. “Betty, this is Sydney.”

The old woman surprised me by pulling me in for a hug. “I’m so glad I finally got to meet you, Sydney. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Interesting. I wondered who had told her whatever she had heard. “It’s nice to meet you too, Betty.”

***

I’m not sure what I thought was going to happen when the time came to turn off the life support, but whatever was in my head was definitely more climatic than how it happened. When the time came, a young doctor we had never met walked over and said a few words and then simply turned off all of the machines except the heart monitor. It took about five minutes. The three of us, Betty, Jack and I, stood together and watched as the numbers slowly declined. Seventy-five. A minute later, fifty-two. Forty. Another minute later, twenty-seven. Finally, the slow descent hit zero and the blips on the screen that once were mountains became flat plains.

Betty and I cried quietly as the doctor turned off the last monitor and manually checked for a pulse that he knew was already gone. It felt ceremonial rather than necessary. “Time of death, 6:52am.”

Jack stood there staring at what was once his father. He didn’t speak or cry or even make a single sound. I gave him a few minutes of silence before I eventually squeezed his hand in a silent gesture to ask if he was okay. When he turned to look at me, his face was indifferent, and for a moment I thought he might be in shock. Then I watched as his face changed from stone to concern, when he took in my tears. A quiet sob escaped me when he took his thumb and gently wiped away my tears.

***

Jack was still quiet as the three of us made our way out the front door of the hospital. It felt odd to leave, knowing that we were leaving such a big part of Jack’s life inside that would forever be changed. Jack had called Mateo to pick us up and offered Betty a ride home, which she politely declined. We both hugged Betty goodbye and Jack walked her to her waiting cab. She stopped as she was about to get in and looked up at Jack. “I know it’s not my place, but you should know that your father loved you a great deal. He just didn’t know how to show it. I think Mrs. St. Claire was getting through to him and I know he was grateful to her for giving updates on how the two of you were doing.”

The old woman looked frail, the last twenty-four hours having taken its toll on her. She smiled at me and reached up and kissed Jack on the cheek. “I’m sorry for your loss, Jack. Call me later when you feel up to it and I will help you make arrangements.”

I watched Jack close the door to Betty’s car, stunned at what I had just heard. At first I wondered if I had even heard right, because Jack didn’t seem to react to what she had just said. But then I replayed her words over and over in my head and realized that there was no way to mistake what she had said — Jack’s father had been keeping in touch with my mother.




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