Slow Grind (Men of Mornington)

“Aubrey’s fine. She’s just fine. And Max is going to be better soon. We’ve got the money for the treatment. He just has to get rid of the pneumonia so he can fly.”

“That’s easier said than done, Andrew.”

“Just breathe, okay, Ms. Rosewood?” I say sympathetically. She’s a strange woman, but I’m not sure I’d be sane if my child were deathly ill. She gets credit for not being totally bat-shit crazy. I place my hand on her shoulder and squeeze softly. “He’s going to make it. We’ve got it.”

“Thank you, Andrew.” The tears spill over her lids and I give her a quick hug, reassuring her it’s under control. “You boys have been close since diapers. I know how much you mean to each other, I always have, but the last few weeks have proven to me that my son has the best of friends. I couldn’t be happier for him.”

I decide to pop back into Max’s room, wanting to make sure his mum lets him get some rest. When I enter, he’s paler than he was before, and his eyes are closed. The blue light—the one on the ceiling—flashes, and an alarm sounds from one of the machines he’s hooked up to. This can’t be happening. Not when we’re so close.

“Nurse!” I scream and stare at the monitors as if I know what I’m looking at. I’m no doctor, but the numbers for his blood pressure are way too low, the same as his heart rate.

“You’ll have to wait outside,” the nurse calmly states, squeezing between the bed and me. A doctor enters soon after, and together, the pair works seamlessly in silence. The nurse places a mask with a bag attached to it over Max’s mouth, and the doctor uses his stethoscope on Max’s chest.

“Push one round of epi,” the doctor calls, and the nurse already has the syringe in her hand, awaiting his command.

As soon as the medication is administered, the excessive beeping slows to a regular pace and the hospital staff appear less panicked.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Rosalind asks next to me. I put my arm around her shoulder and pull her into me. I’m not sure if she needs the comfort; however, I know I do.

“You really need to wait outside. Please. Come with me.”

A nurse escorts Rosalind and me out of the room, giving us two chairs to sit in right outside the door. With my head in my hands, I wait. There’s nothing to do except wait. It seems like hours go by, and Max’s room is still filled with hospital staff. Deciding it’s the time to call Aubrey, I pull out my phone, and before I can dial, I see her racing down the hallway.

“I just called to see how he was and they told me he wasn’t great. They actually suggested I come down and say goodbye, just in case,” she whispers. “My own mother couldn’t pick up the phone to tell me he was that bad? Neither could you?”

“She’s a wreck, Aubrey. We were waiting. It all happened so fast. One second he was talking and cracking jokes, the next, he’s lying there unresponsive,” I say, not sure why I’m feeling the need to defend her mother. Who knows, maybe it’s pity. In a way, she’s losing both her kids, because without Max, I can’t see Aubs keeping in touch.

“We all are,” Aubrey says. “That’s no excuse.” She looks past Rosalind and me and into the room at Max. I stand back as she rushes to his bedside and hovers over Max’s lifeless body. “You wake the fuck up right now, dammit,” she mutters to him. She reaches over and strokes his cheek.

“I’ll leave you alone,” I say quietly.

“No,” Aubrey cuts in. “Stay. Please.”

The doctors say sometimes the body shuts down when it needs to rest, and apparently, Max is stable, just in a sort of coma. They assure us it’s nothing life-threatening, but with Max, everything is life or death. Aubrey refuses to leave, as do I. Rosalind excuses herself to speak more with the doctors, and we chat with Max as if he’s awake.

When nighttime rolls around, Aubrey still has no plans to leave. “Let me take you back to Max’s place, so you can at least shower and eat a meal. You’re not looking so good, Aubs.”

“I’m fine. Just don’t leave, okay?” I can’t tell if it’s Max that makes her weak, or if it’s me. I really hope it’s not me, because everything I’ve seen of her, the girl has a fire that sets her apart from the rest. I’d hate to be the reason that fire burns out. If she wants me here, I’m here; I can’t tell her no.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I sit on the floor in the corner of the room, watching her sleep. She looks so peaceful, hunched over in her seat, her hand wrapped tightly around Max’s. Every so often, the nurses come in and take Max’s vitals, but Aubs doesn’t even stir. She’s so exhausted; she’d sleep through anything right now.

Somewhere between watching her and the nurses, I fall asleep. A notification from my phone jars me awake. Cracking my eyes, I gather my bearings and assess the time. It’s five in the morning. I shiver and get to my feet, my jacket in my hands. Checking in on Aubrey, who is fast asleep in the chair, her body bent into positions that I know are going to be painful in the morning, I place the jacket over her. She stirs but doesn’t wake. I lean over her and smile, the sweet scent of her perfume overwhelming me. She’s so fucking perfect.

I watch her for a few seconds longer before I quietly leave the room. She’s not going to go anywhere until Max is okay, so it’s up to me to make sure she’s still looking after herself.

Pulling up outside Max’s apartment, I turn off the engine. The sun is just beginning to rise, and the park opposite his complex is slowly filling with morning joggers. I shake my head. Why anyone would willingly get up this fucking early is beyond me. I have a hard enough time dragging my arse out of bed to go to work. Speaking of which… I whip out my phone and compose a text to Wayne, telling him I can’t come in. I’ve had more time off these past few weeks than in my whole eight years working there. I hope he understands, but in the end, even if he doesn’t, I’d lose my job before I’m not there for Max and Aubs.

I’m outside Max’s apartment, about to slip my key into the lock, when I see the dent in the wall beside the door. I chuckle and run my fingers over the cracked plaster, feeling nostalgic. Two years ago, after a big night out, we decided the only thing to do was play a game of footy in the hallway. At three in the morning. Sam and I were a point behind with only seconds to go when I crash-tackled Max into the wall and nearly broke the poor guy’s hand. We won, but his neighbours were less than impressed. Two years and it still hasn’t been fixed. So much for extra fees paid for excellent management. I smile wistfully and let myself into the apartment.

Clicking on the light, I survey the place, not sure where to start. In the end, I grab a backpack I find in the kitchen pantry and start with the bathroom, throwing a handful of products that look like they could be Aubrey’s. They’re girly enough, but then again, they could just as easily be Max’s.

&nbs

p; Walking into her bedroom, I flick on the light and begin throwing clothes into the bag. I sit down on the edge of the bed to grab a pair of shoes peeking out from under the base when something next to my arse moves. I jump up, cursing, ready to protect myself from whoever—or whatever—it is.

“What the hell?”