Commitment Issues (23 page)

He couldn't finish because he started crying. I hated to see Wyatt in so much pain, and I knew there was nothing that I could do to help except be there with him. I just stood there and held his shoulder. Wyatt held his father's hand and stroked it and cried. Unlike his mother, his tears came softly. Good for him. If the father was able to hear, he heard Wyatt's soft words but not any crying. Wyatt was being very soothing to his father.

What can you do in a situation like that? I didn't have any training or experience, so I was mainly just there for Wyatt. I stayed nearby. We stood beside his father's bed, and I kept one hand on Wyatt's shoulder.

I heard some noise outside the door. It was a scuffle of some sort. There were words. After a minute, a police officer came into the room and said somebody named Thomas was outside wanting to come in. The officer didn't want to let any unknown person into the room. He was under orders to keep Wyatt and me safe from bombers and assassins.

"Toomas,” Wyatt told the cop. “He's my older brother. Did his family come too?"

"No, sir,” the officer said. “It is just the one man."

Wyatt nodded and waited. I looked for a signal that he wanted me to retreat to the far side of the room. He didn't give any indication of anything, so I stayed put. When his brother walked in, I still had my arm around Wyatt's shoulder.

Toomas Nelson walked to the far side of the bed and looked at his father. He picked up the man's hand, and I saw a tear start to stream down a cheek. He didn't make noise as he cried and just stood there in silence for several minutes.

"You must be Sean,” he said as he looked up, and I nodded and gave him a small smile. I think you're supposed to smile like that when you meet somebody, but it wasn't exactly a happy occasion. “Hey, Wyatt, I ran into Mommy and Katariina. I think they were headed to the cafeteria.” Wyatt nodded. “Did the doctor tell you anything?"

Wyatt nodded again, and he stood up to walk over to Toomas. They walked to the far side of the room and talked for ten minutes or more. I'm sure they talked about the bad medical news first, but I think they also talked about the shooter and bomber. I saw his brother pointing to the door, and I thought I heard the word “officer” in the conversation.

They were obviously family, and they took after their father. It was like they got all their genes from the male lineage, because neither brother looked much like the mother or sister. I just stood against the wall nearest to the father and waited.

The brothers eventually hugged for a long time. It was warm and friendly, and then they walked back to the bed holding hands. Toomas walked over to me. He put one hand on the back of my neck and let his forehead rest on my forehead. After a minute, he kissed my right cheek, followed by my left cheek.

"Do you love my brother?” Toomas asked. For some reason, the question made me tear up.

"Yeah, I do,” I whispered to Toomas. “I love him more than I ever loved anything."

Toomas kissed me on the mouth. There wasn't any tongue action, but it was way more than a “guy-kiss.” It was a real kiss right on my lips. The kiss was so natural and unpretentious that I knew he meant it to be friendly. It was the kind of kiss that two gay friends might give to each other, not a hollow peck on a cheek like you'd get from a straight relative of your boyfriend.

"Welcome to the family, Sean,” he said as he gave me a really long bear hug. Toomas was big and burly, sort of the opposite of Wyatt. If every family had a quota of machismo, Toomas got all of the Nelson's allotment. The elder brother was way more touchy-feely than you might expect. He surprised me with the tender hugs. He put his palm on the side of my neck, the same way Wyatt did, and it made me wonder where they got it. If he had been any more cuddly, I would have started to wonder if it was a come-on. Wyatt and Toomas were both touchy-feely, so maybe it was a trait of the Nelson family.

"Thanks for the welcome,” I said. “Where's your brood?"

"Wife is back at my parents’ house,” Toomas said. “She's tucking in the monsters."

"How many?"

"Two girls and a boy,” Wyatt said as he looked up from his father's bed. “You been here long?"

"We got in this morning,” the brother said. “The whole family is in one place again. Maybe the last time."

Wyatt nodded as more tears found their way down his cheeks.

We got a hotel room near the hospital. The FBI agent wouldn't go along with us, staying in the motel that was directly across the street. The motel was cheaper and more convenient, but the FBI said we would be much safer ten floors up.

As soon as we were settled, I called Janie Marroquin. They got a substitute for the next day, which was Friday. That meant I didn't have to be on the air until Monday. Janie told me that I would have to come back or go to the station in Baraboo. She promised to have Monday's scripts at the hotel's fax machine on Saturday with plenty of time before my Sunday morning recording session. I would be doing my newscast from paper, just like the good old days. I missed paper sometimes. There was one practical joker who had come in and lit the bottom of my newscast on fire. As the thing went up in flames, I hit a commercial early and started screaming. The guy said he wanted to see how fast I could read.

Oh yes, that did happen. I knew most of the stories and finished the newscast without any script. When the disc jockey had resumed the music, I went looking for the asshole and his cigarette lighter. He wasn't around, so I plunged my pocketknife into the side of one of his tires. I mean, you just don't do that kind of thing. You don't do it even if you think it's funny, which it wasn't.

If there wasn't a stop-the-presses event over the weekend, I could even pre-record the show in Baraboo. Nobody would even know.

"Thanks, Janie,” I said.

"Don't thank me,” she laughed. “I get a long weekend that way. You may need to send Ronny's wife some flowers if you interrupt their Sunday. I think that Sunday is kind of a family day."

"I'll try not to,” I said. “Does the station manager in Baraboo know about my situation?"

"Yup, you should be able to call them tomorrow,” she said. “If you think you want to record this weekend, you gotta call Friday during business hours. You know how hard it is to get through on a weekend, and I don't know any of the station's secret phone numbers."

"You guys are the best,” I said and really meant it.

"Tell Wyatt we're thinking of him and praying for his dad."

"Adios, Janie."

"Que Dios, Sean."

Wyatt poked his head out of the door and asked the police officer if he needed anything. We had a suite, so he invited the officer into the main living room of our suite. I think that was really appreciated. Wyatt and I went into the bedroom and got to bed.

"Thanks for dropping everything,” he told me.

"What did you think I'd do?"

He held me and hugged me and cried. I drifted off to sleep in a hurry, but I woke up a few times during the night. Wyatt was awake each time. I don't know if he got any sleep at all. One time I got up to go to the toilet and found Wyatt sitting in a chair in the bedroom. He was staring out the window into the night sky over Madison. Just staring, deep in thought, lost in memories of his father, and consumed by all those caustic thoughts of things he should have said to his father long ago. I went over to him, knelt down, and hugged him. He started sobbing and clutching my arms. I stood there for the longest time, and I found that he was asleep. It was probably against doctor's orders, but I leaned down and picked up my lover and carried him the three steps it took to get him onto the bed. I tucked Wyatt into the bed and then crawled into the bed beside him. I fell asleep with his head on my chest and one arm around my waist. That was the same way I woke up. He hadn't moved.

There were taps at the bedroom door.

"Mr. Roberts?” came a woman's voice. I got out of bed and went to the door. Shift change. It was a new police officer. She asked if everything was okay, and I assured her that it was.

The phone woke up Wyatt. He was really groggy from lack of sleep. When he'd finally gone to sleep, it was a deep sleep. It was his sister on the phone. She said we needed to get to the hospital really fast. I thanked her and went to get Wyatt moving. There wouldn't be any time for coffee or breakfast or showers. I filled in the police officer through the bedroom door, and she said that would be fine.

Wyatt really wanted a shower. I told him to spritz some cold water on his face and double-check his hair. Katariina said we had to come to the hospital immediately, and it finally got through to Wyatt what that meant. He was almost a blur of activity. He was trying to do so many morning tasks at the same time that he messed up most of them. Finally we were ready to leave the bedroom, and the officer was waiting for us.

At the hospital, there was already an officer outside Mr. Nelson's room. We had double coverage. I gave the officer enough money to get coffee for herself and her partner, and maybe a couple of donuts. She seemed pleased.

When I walked into the hospital room, I saw all three kids standing in a row. Toomas was nearest the father's head, Wyatt was in the middle, and Katariina was nearest the foot of the bed. I don't know if they arranged it or even knew what they were doing, but the man's children were there in their birth order. Toomas was the oldest, and Katariina was the youngest. My wonderful Wyatt was in the middle. Their mother was on the other side of the bed. It was the Nelsons—father, mother, and all three kids—in one room for one last time, and they all knew it. None of them wanted to move or say anything. They just stood and looked down at Mr. Nelson.

The father's breathing was more like a gurgle. Even with breathing tubes, he wasn't able to get much oxygen from whatever caused the gurgling noise.

I stayed at the foot of the bed with another woman, presumably Toomas's wife. When his mother looked at the foot of the bed, she caught my eye in a kind of evil eye. Mommy didn't want me to be in the room. She wanted me out of her husband's room. She was probably glad that the father had never met me. There was nothing but hatred in her eyes. When she looked at the other woman, her face softened.

I did the sign of the cross as I said a prayer for the father, and I also said that I hoped the mother would also find peace. Beats me if prayer like that has any effect, but it couldn't hurt.

Then he died slowly. It wasn't like he just stopped living. He faded like an engine that was running out of fuel.

He died. We all watched as Mr. Nelson's heart rate started slowly dropping. A nurse in the room stopped the machine from beeping, but the readout continued. Everyone in the room knew that the end was at hand. Toomas reached out and put his hand on his father's shoulder. Katariina put her hand on a leg, and Wyatt held his father's hand. His heartbeat stayed between fifty and sixty for a minute, but then it started going down again. When it got to thirty, it started going back up again.

It took ten minutes for Wyatt's father to die after his heart began to slow. His mother was sobbing loudly. Moans and groans came out of the woman until I thought she must be completely drained. She grunted and growled and made fists out of both hands. The nurse on the same side of the bed stepped back, giving her as much space as he could. Maybe Toomas's wife could have walked up to give her comfort. I would have, but that would probably have caused a nasty scene.

I hope nobody does that when I'm dying. Death is a natural part of life, and I think it would be awful to have wailing and sobbing as the last sounds you heard. I hope somebody is there who knows how to reassure me when I'm dying. The father needed comfort, if the stroke hadn't silenced his brain. I felt bad that I didn't step up and talk to him softly, but Mommy would probably have ordered me out of the room. I just stayed back and let the family be front-and-center. I was there for Wyatt.

"He died,” I told the officer.

"I'm sorry for your loss,” she said.

"I never actually met the man, but thanks,” I said.

"Hey, which of you is the abortion bomber trying to get?"

"I don't really know,” I said. “Probably Wyatt, but I don't really know the answer. We've both been attacked."

"We'll catch him,” she whispered. “Take that to the bank."

"Thanks."

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We walked out to the sitting area near the hospital elevators. Mrs. Nelson was still sobbing, and Toomas's wife seemed to be the one in charge of keeping her in tissues. The three kids huddled by themselves. That left me to... I didn't know what I was supposed to do. There was no chance I would want to go be chummy with the new widow, and the Nelson children were discussing something. I assumed they were talking about what to do next.

I stood by a window and looked out at Madison, Wisconsin. The hospital was near a big lake. Maybe it was part of the Great Lake systems. No, I could see something on the far side of the lake. The Great Lakes are too big to see across, so this had to be something else. It was nice to see they had so much water in the middle of town. It was nice in the summer, but I'd probably not like to see that much water in the winter. I think that Wisconsin gets really cold.

One of the police officers asked me if I knew what was in the plans. Funeral, I was sure, but I didn't know any details.

"Want me to go ask Wyatt?"

"No,” she said. “Just if you knew something, it would be great."

"Sorry."

After ten minutes or so, Wyatt came over. I told him we ought to keep the police informed on where we needed to go.

"Sure,” he said as we walked over to where the officers were standing. “We're all going to break for food. Debbie and Toomy have kids back at Mother's house, and they need to tend to them. Their son is babysitting, but he needs some downtime. So all of us are going our separate ways for a couple of hours. We have an appointment at the funeral home at four thirty this afternoon."

Both officers looked at their watches.

"Lunch is on us,” I said.

"Not necessary, but thanks,” the woman in uniform said.