Three is a crowd: Cancer throws spanner in works

(Continued from last issue)

David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.

DAVID

My mother calling me in the middle of a workday, combined with the fear and heaviness in her voice as she told me my father had been admitted, sent me into full-blown panic, and I could not get to the hospital fast enough.

I found her nervously pacing around the hospital lobby and immediately rushed to her.

“Mum! What happened? Where’s Dad?” I demanded anxiously.

Before she could answer me, a doctor came out to the lobby, and calling out to her, motioned for us to follow him to one of the consultation rooms.

Once we were all seated, he turned to my mother: “I’m sorry ma’am, but the cancer has spread.” Cancer!

I felt like I had been punched in the gut, but focused on my mother, the doctor was oblivious to my shock, and went on: “I’ve put him on strong painkillers and oxygen; so, he’s comfortable, but I’m afraid that’s all we’re able to do at this point.”

Unlike me, my mother did not appear surprised by the doctor’s grim prognosis, and although her eyes welled up with tears, she nodded stoically, then simply asked, “Can we see him?”

“Yes, of course; please go back to the lobby, and I’ll have a nurse come and take you up to him,” he promised, and stood up, politely indicating that the ‘consultation’ was over.

I walked out in a trance, too shell-shocked to formulate any sort of response; I knew I should be comforting my mother, but amidst my shock, was a sense of anger at her; how long had she known that my father was dying?

Why hadn’t she told me? We did not speak to each other, lost in our own thoughts and pain, and when the nurse arrived to take us up to my father’s room, we followed her in silence.

It was the sight of my father, already changed into a hospital gown, hooked up to drips and monitors, looking so frail and shriveled that the hospital bed looked too big for him, that finally shook me out of my daze.

I had been mad at my mother for not having told me about my father’s condition, but looking down at him then, I was angrier at myself for having been so caught up in my own life, that I had not noticed what was going on in my father’s.

JULIE

David eventually arrived a little after eight, just after I put Junior down for the night.

He looked pale and haggard, his shoulders slumped; I could see his pain, but there was nothing I could think of to say to ease it; so, instead, I just hugged him tightly.

For a while, he just clung to me, but then his shoulders started to shake, and breaking down, he began to sob. We stood like that, me holding him as he wept, until all cried out, he pulled away, and turning around quickly, brushed away all traces of his tears like he was embarrassed by them.

I had become an expert at stopping myself from asking David about anything that might make him uncomfortable; so, even though I was anxious to ask him about his father’s condition, I instead changed the subject.

“Dinner is ready; should I serve you?” I asked softly.

“No thanks; I’m not hungry.” “How about something to drink then? Tea? Coffee? A beer?” “A beer please,” he nodded, and even though he had rejected the dinner I had spent hours preparing, I was grateful that he was staying at least long enough to have a beer.

He was resting his head in his hands when I returned with the beer, but he looked up when I placed the beer on the side table. “Thank you,” he said quietly, but made no move to pick it up.

“Dad is dying.” His voice was devoid of emotion, like he was just reciting the words to get them out of the way: “He has cancer and it’s spread too much for them to do anything.”

“Oh David! I’m so sorry,” I gasped, and then because I could not think of anything else to say, said it again. “I’m so sorry.”

“He wants to see you and Junior tomorrow,” he answered in that same, dead monotone, and this time, I was so surprised, I could not say anything at all and just stared at him. He took a long drink from his glass, then went on, “I’ve got to take the kids to school in the morning, but I won’t be going to work; so, after I drop them, I’ll come and pick you up.”

“Alright,” I finally managed to squeak. With that confirmed, David finished off his beer and then stood up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said quietly, and then leaning in, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, before turning and leaving.

DIANE

Things had been going so great between David and I, and I had finally begun to feel like we were getting our marriage back on track, when he texted me one Wednesday from the hospital, informing me that his father had been admitted with terminal cancer, and I instinctively knew this was going to throw a spanner in the works.

Not only were David and his father very close, but more importantly, the bad blood between his father and I was no secret; so, while I did feel sorry for David, I could not feign concern or sadness about his father.

The inevitable result was that once again there was a divide between us, a major event in his life that I could not fully share with him.

He got back after ten that night, and the new distance between us was immediately noticeable as rather than sit and spend some time with me like he had started doing, he said he was tired and just wanted to have a shower and get to bed.

“You look exhausted, why don’t you lie in tomorrow, and I’ll take the kids to school,” I offered, in an attempt to be caring and helpful.

“Thanks, but I’ll be going back to the hospital in the morning anyway; so, I might as well get an early start by taking them. I just need to get to bed now, and I’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“Alright, goodnight then,” I answered softly, and watched him head on up the stairs.

I didn’t follow him; first because it was clear that he wanted to be left alone, but also because, from his despondent demeanor, it was apparent that his father was literally on his deathbed, and that left me with a lot to think about too.

It was for instance common knowledge that David was his father’s heir, and now there was the Katosi project to take into consideration too.

If – or rather when – his father died, that would fall solely into David’s hands, and I was determined that when that happened, I would be right there, firmly by his side, holding those hands to ensure that none of it slipped into the hands of his whore.

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