Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

‘My mother’s been taken sick. I’ve flown down from New York to see her.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ the driver said.

‘Thank you.’

‘My father was in Mercy last year,’ the driver continued. ‘Heart attack. They gave him a week at best. Within two months he was dancing at my sister’s wedding. They said it was a minor miracle.’

Lachlan half-smiled. He wasn’t expecting any miracles – minor or not – for his mom.

It was less than fifteen minutes before the car pulled up outside the hospital. The driver flicked his hazard lights on and climbed out to grab Lachlan’s case from the trunk. Lachlan stood and looked up at the cream stuccoed building. If it wasn’t for the green-and-orange University of Miami Hospital signs, you could mistake it for a high-end hotel. Hell, some of the top-level rooms had fantastic views of the beach and city.

Slipping the driver a twenty-dollar tip, Lachlan grabbed his case and walked through the glass sliding doors and into the entrance, immediately heading for the information desk. It was quiet inside – regular visiting hours were over, and the general public were safely at home for the evening. Even the staff spoke softly as he asked for directions to his mom’s room.

When he made it to the Pulmonary and Critical Care ward, the nurse quietly directed him down the hallway. ‘The pulmonologist has gone home for the evening,’ she told him, her voice low. ‘He’ll be back in at eight for ward rounds. You’ll be able to speak with him then. But in the meantime if you have any questions, I should be able to help.’

‘How is she?’

‘Critical but stable,’ the nurse told him. ‘She had a chest infection which developed into pneumonia. She’s being treated with an antibiotic drip, and she’s on oxygen, but her heart is weak. We should know more tomorrow.’

‘Will she make it?’

The nurse’s face softened. ‘It’s hard to tell. There’s a fine line between treating her and exacerbating her pain. As you know, COPD is progressive, we can only treat the complications. But we’re doing all we can to help her fight.’ She stopped outside the room, pushing the door open. Lachlan stepped past her, his eyes immediately drawn to the pale woman resting on the hospital bed. She was hooked up to a machine, lines leading from her wrist up to a drip. An oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth, and every time she inhaled he could hear a rattling from her chest.

‘That’s a venturi mask,’ the nurse explained. ‘It delivers high levels of oxygen to her lungs. It’s more effective than a nasal cannula.’

Lachlan nodded, though he was barely listening.

‘She’s also had two steroid injections to improve her lung function. I expect they’ll send her down for another chest X-ray tomorrow.’

Tomorrow. Seeing his mother lying on her bed, he wondered if she’d even see it. Leaving his case by the door, he walked over, pulling the chair close to the bed. Picking her hand up, he clasped it between his own.

‘She feels hot,’ he said.

‘She’s had a fever. It’s coming down. We’ll be taking her vitals again in half an hour, hopefully she’ll be a bit cooler by then.’ The nurse checked her watch. ‘I’ll leave you in here for a while. If you’d like some refreshments, the café is open all night, it’s just down the hall. And if you need one of us, you can either press that button,’ she said, pointing to the red button on the wall, ‘or come find us at the nurses’ station.’

‘Thank you,’ he replied, still staring at his mother.

‘You’re welcome.’

He spent the next hour sitting with his mom, listening to the regular beeps from the heart monitor, and her irregular breathing as she struggled still for air. The wheezing rattle from her chest made him wince, it sounded as though with every breath she took she was going in to battle. A couple of times her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at him glassily, not recognising who he was, or if she did, unable to find the energy to acknowledge him.

By midnight he’d fallen asleep on the padded leather chair, his head lolling to the side as his long legs stretched out in front of him. But his slumber didn’t last for long. Every hour the nurse came in to check the machine and the IV, making notes on her tablet to record his mom’s hourly stats.

The second time the nurse woke him up, his neck was stiff, his back muscles complaining at the awkward position. He circled his head a couple of times, feeling the knots clicking against each other. ‘Where did you say the café was?’ he asked. Right then, the lure of a caffeine injection was too strong to ignore. It was a shame they didn’t serve anything stronger.

‘Down the corridor and to the left,’ she told him, adjusting the machine. ‘If you’re lucky the terrace might still be open. It has a nice view of the city.’

There was no queue at the counter. The barista served him quickly, using the same low tones everybody else seemed to have in the hospital. Did they put them on some kind of training course? Lachlan handed over a note then carried his coffee over to a corner table. The doors to the terrace were locked but the sounds of the city still found their way through the gaps. His phone screen told him it was half past one in the morning, and it felt like it, too. Sitting there in the corner of the deserted café, Lachlan felt a pang of loneliness sting his stomach.

Do you have anybody you’d like us to call? Wasn’t that what they said when a patient was close to death? If the nurse asked him there and then if there was somebody she could call, who the hell would he say?

Grant probably cared, but only because he was Lachlan’s friend. And he’d be fast asleep at this time. He couldn’t imagine Jenn would be very impressed if Lachlan woke them up just to talk.

Did he even have any other friends? Maybe, but not the kind you’d call in the middle of the night, looking for sympathy. He spent his life surrounded by work colleagues, employees, friends who liked to have a good time, but would a single one of them be there for him if he sent them a message right then?

He didn’t think so, no.

Taking a sip of his coffee, he let the bitter taste swill around his tongue, and then swi