Calamity Jena (Invertary 4)
Page 95
“Hey, Mum,” Matt said. He was standing shirtless in the kitchen, frying bacon and making toast.
“Matt, sweetheart.” There were tears in her voice. “I’m at the hospital. I need you to come get me. I have bad news, son.”
Matt turned off the cooker without another thought for breakfast. Everything within him stilled. He knew what she had to say. He knew she didn’t want to tell him over the phone, but it was too late. He knew. His throat tightened.
“It’s happened, hasn’t it?”
“Aye.” Her sob broke free, the sound ripping through his soul. “He got a post-op infection.” She couldn’t say any more, but the words were there—his dad hadn’t recovered from it.
“Have you called the twins?”
“Not yet.” Her voice broke. Matt felt tears well in his eyes. He blinked them away. There were things to do. He didn’t have time to get upset. He had to be practical.
“I’ll do it. I’ll get them. We’ll be there soon. Hold tight, okay?”
He hung up and stood in the middle of the room unable to move. It had happened. The day he’d known was coming for eight years. And yet it was still a shock. How was that possible? Part of him wished for one more day, while another part of him knew it was long overdue. So fast. It had been so fast in the end. A broken bone. An infection his body didn’t have the strength to fight. Matt didn’t think it would happen like this. He scrunched his eyes tight against the pain. There was a lot to do. He had to remember there was a lot to do. His family needed him to be strong. To stand for them. To help them get through. There would be time for feelings later. Much later—if he could face them.
“Matt?” Jena’s soft, hesitant voice made him open his eyes.
She looked at him questioningly as she walked towards him. He’d put her into bed naked, but she was dressed in her yellow pyjamas now. Her hair was a sexy, tousled mess and there were dark circles under her eyes. She ran her hand up his chest.
“I heard the phone.” She wrapped her arms around him.
He fought to get the words past his throat. The words part of him didn’t even believe. Words he would have to say to his sisters. His breath hitched at the thought. It’s fine. It’s all fine.
“I need to go to Fort William,” he said at last.
“Okay, honey.”
He became aware he was clenching his phone tight enough to break it. He let it fall to the kitchen table as he wrapped his arms around Jena. He could take a minute before he spoke to the twins. He just needed a minute. A second for the news to sink in. For his brain to reboot.
He buried his face in Jena’s hair and breathed deeply. “Dad died.” The words barely made it out of his mouth.
“I figured.”
She kept holding him as the shock of it eased. It had happened. The man who defined him was gone. Matt felt a numbness creep over him.
Jena stroked his back in an easy rhythm. The feel of it comforting him. She was so much stronger than she thought she was. So much more courageous than she knew. And he needed that strength now.
He needed her.
But he couldn’t put her through the hospital visit. His mum would want privacy. He knew Jena would understand. “I’ll go on my own, but when I get back…”
“I’ll be here. Whatever you need. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“Okay.” He held her tight.
And in that moment, he knew he never wanted to let her go.
The twins clung to each other and sobbed all the way to Fort William. They found their mother waiting in the family room off the intensive care unit. She was sitting in the corner, staring into space. She had a stunned, lost appearance. A tiny woman, alone not only physically in the large, bright room, but now emotionally too. The twins ran to her, almost crushing her in their embrace, and the three of them cried together.
Their sobs tore at Matt. He swallowed hard at the sight, turned on his heels and went to speak to the staff. It didn’t take long to pick up his father’s meagre belongings and a copy of the death certificate. For a long time he stood in the hallway outside the family room, staring at the piece of paper that told him his dad was gone. It didn’t seem real. None of it seemed real. Before he even realised what he was doing, he pulled out his phone and dialled Jena.
“Hey, honey, how you holding up?” she said as soon as she answered.
The sound of her voice made something settle deep inside Matt. This was a new thing for him—to have someone in his corner. Someone who gave him their strength and support. “I’m doing okay. I just picked up the death certificate.” He took a deep breath. “They asked if we wanted to see him—he’s been taken down to the morgue—but I said no. We’d talked about it in the car and none of us need to do that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. You do what is best for you, not what other people think you should do.”