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I spent the next few days just trying to get through each performance, and coming home to an empty apartment. Lisa had pretty much moved in with Jeremy, and Orlando was always too busy to talk on the phone, so I began to feel really isolated, especially since I couldn’t even depend on Adam to keep me company. I went to work, I came home, and I slept, and it felt like that’s all my days consisted of.

The night before the Dead Man’s Chest premiere, I found myself alone, as usual, and really missing Orlando. I’d talked to him for less than five minutes the day before, and that was it. I knew I shouldn’t bother him, but I needed to hear his voice. I picked up the phone and dialed his cell phone.

“Yes?” Carrie’s cold, obnoxious voice answered a few seconds later. She had to be one of the rudest people I’d ever met, and my heart sank at getting her instead of Orlando. That meant he was busy.

I decided to try my luck anyway. “Carrie, it’s Charlie,” I said, trying to be friendly. “Is Orlando busy?”

“Isn’t he always?” she snapped, and I could picture her rolling her eyes. “I was just about to shut his phone off.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, not sure what else to say. “Uh, can you just have him call me when he gets a spare minute?”

“I’ll pass along the message, but I can’t guarantee he’ll have time to call you back,” she said, getting more impatient by the second. The line went dead and I knew she’d hung up on me.

“Bitch,” I sighed as I disconnected the phone. I stared around at the empty apartment, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my time.

I’d just gotten up to make some popcorn when the phone rang. Thinking it was Orlando, I dove for it, flopping down on the sofa as I answered.

“Hello,” I said, not bothering to check the caller ID. “I was hoping you’d call me back.”

“Charlie?” Aunt Tess’s voice came through the phone, sounding weak and sad.

“What’s wrong?” I said immediately, her tone worrying me.

“Honey, you need to come home,” she said, barely able to get the words out. “Your dad’s had a heart attack, and it doesn’t look good.”

I felt like I’d swallowed a bowling ball. I’d heard her words, and deep inside I knew what they meant, but for some reason, I couldn’t get my head around them. It’s a good thing I was already sitting, or else I would have collapsed with the shock.

“What happened?” I managed to stutter out. Tears stung the back of my eyes.

She sniffled quietly, trying to get herself together enough to talk. “We were having lunch this afternoon, and he was complaining about being tired and short of breath,” she said sadly. “He went to lay down, and before we knew what was happening, he tried to come downstairs because he couldn’t breathe at all.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Honey, the heart attack caused him to fall down the stairs, which only made things worse.”

My thoughts were racing, my head was spinning, I didn’t know what to think or say. My dad, the one person I still thought of as invincible, the one person in my life who had never let me down or hurt me in any way, was laying in a hospital 500 kilometers away, and I was sitting in my little apartment, doing nothing about it.

“I’m going to call the airport and see if I can get a compassion flight out of the city tonight,” I said, getting up and going into my bedroom. I mechanically started throwing clothes on the bed, not even paying attention to what I grabbed. “I’ll be there in a few hours.”

She gave me the hospital details, and we hung up. As soon as I’d thrown the phone down on the bed, the panic began to build inside me. How was I ever going to get myself packed up and to the airport, much less get on a flight? With shaking hands, I picked up the phone again and dialed.

“This had better be good,” Lisa growled when she answered, the absence of her usual off-the-wall greeting telling me I’d interrupted something.

“Lisa, I need you to come home,” I said, fighting to stay calm as the first tear rolled down my cheek.

“Charlie, what’s the matter?” she said, no longer sounding irritated.

“My dad’s in the hospital,” I said, focusing on breathing normally so that I didn’t freak out. “I can’t deal with the flight and everything right now.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she said, and hung up.

I finished packing as best I could with my hands shaking the way they were, and called the airline. I could barely choke out what I needed, but the booking agent knew what I was saying and took pity on me. She booked me on a flight that was leaving from JFK in an hour.

By the time Lisa got home, I was a wreck. I was sitting on my bedroom floor, staring at the carpet, a million horrible thoughts racing through my head. What if he died before I got there? What if he had to stay in bed the rest of his life? Why hadn’t I been there to make sure he wasn’t working himself to death? Why had I let my weekly phone calls become so impersonal?

The more I thought, the more tortured I became, and when Lisa came down on the floor beside me to hug me, I buried my face in her shoulder and cried, really let loose. She soothed me as best she could, but after a minute or two she didn’t know what else to say, so she just held me and rocked me back and forth, her hands running up and down my back.

When I felt like I had no tears left, I pulled away. I dashed my hand across my eyes, and grabbed my suitcase.

“I have to be at the airport in 45 minutes,” I said, my voice shaky and weak. “We need to catch a cab.”

A short time later we were at the airport. Lisa helped me get everything sorted out, and made sure I got on the plane. I hugged her before I left, but there were no words between us. There didn’t need to be.

I cried on and off during the flight, but I was pretty steady when the plane landed. I picked up my suitcases at baggage claim, and grabbed a cab to the hospital.

When I got there, I went to the third floor, to the room Aunt Tess had given me. Dad’s health insurance covered a private room, so we wouldn’t have to worry about a roommate. I hesitated outside the door, taking deep breaths to calm my shaking body. Part of me wanted to rush right in and hug him, and the other part was scared to see him in a hospital bed. That would make it real. I finally mustered the courage to open the door.

Aunt Tess was sitting in a chair beside the bed, her back to me, holding Dad’s hand. Deanna sat on the other side of the bed, near the window. Dad was in the bed, propped up a bit, an IV in his arm, wearing his navy blue silk pajamas that I had given him for Christmas two years before. His eyes were closed, and he had a peaceful expression on his face. The only thing that spoiled the peaceful picture was the big white bandage on his head, and the black eye he was sporting. He looked so fragile, it made me scared just to see him there.

“Aunt Tess?” I whispered, going closer. “How is he?”

She was on her feet immediately, pulling me into a huge hug. “He’s stable now, but it was touch-and-go there for awhile,” she said, keeping her arm around me as she gently guided me closer to the bed. “He hit his head when he fell down the stairs, and he hasn’t been conscious since, but his vitals are stable, and he’s breathing on his own.”

“What exactly is wrong with him?” I asked, taking his hand as I sat in Aunt Tess’s chair. She pulled up another one beside me.

“They think he broke a couple of ribs,” she said slowly, her hand on my shoulder. “And a bunch of bruises from the fall. Of course, there’s his head, but we’re not too sure of the damage there. We’ll know if he wakes up.”

“If?” I choked, squeezing Dad’s hand tighter. I hadn’t wanted to think that he might not wake up. “What do you mean ‘if’?”

She sighed. “Between the heart attack and the fall, there’s a chance he won’t wake up at all,” she said, her voice low. She glanced over at Deanna, who had tears streaming down her face. Dad was like a father to her, so I knew it was almost as hard on her to see him like this as it was on me.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That can’t be right. I want to talk to the doctor. There has to be something they can do for him.”

It was Aunt Tess’s turn to shake her head. Her arm went around my shoulders again and she hugged me against her side. “The only thing we can do now is wait,” she said, defeat in her voice. “Your father’s will specifically states that if he has to be kept alive by artificial means, then he wants to be allowed to die naturally, with some dignity.”

“But he’s not on any machines,” I said, my voice slightly shrill with panic. “An IV is hardly keeping him alive.”

“For now, he’s breathing on his own,” she said. “But that could change, the longer he’s unconscious. Honey, his heart isn’t good, and hasn’t been for some time.”

“How long have you known that?” I finally looked her in the eye.

“He started having problems right after you left for New York,” she admitted quietly. “But his doctor prescribed something for the irregular heartbeat, and he was fine.”

“That was months ago,” I almost yelled. I quickly lowered my voice, trying to control my temper because we were in the hospital and I didn’t want to get kicked out for being rowdy. “Why was I not told? I’m his daughter, for heaven’s sake.”

“He didn’t want to worry you when you had so much on your plate,” she said softly. “You have your own life, and he didn’t want you to think you had to give it up to come home and take care of him. We were coping just fine ourselves.”

I looked at my dad for a minute, at his peaceful, if banged-up face, at the big hands that had always seemed so strong, and I felt a tug in my chest. I knew that pain all too well, and I tried to push it away.

“I’ve told him for years that he works too hard,” I said, not sure what else to say. It was not the time to get into a fight with Aunt Tess about anything. “And now it’s caught up with him. He’s not even fifty-five yet.”

“I know, kiddo,” she said, rubbing my back gently. “It’s not fair at all, but all we can do is pray and hope that he comes through. He’s always been strong.”

“Let’s hope he can stay strong now,” I said, running my fingers over the back of his hand. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

We sat in silence for awhile, I’m not really sure how long, the only sound in the room being that of the IV dripping away, and the occasional sniffle from one of us. Dad’s condition must have been serious, because the hospital staff didn’t kick us out, even though it was after three o’clock in the morning. Deanna was fighting to stay awake in her chair, but she tried to keep us from seeing it. Finally, Aunt Tess took her home to bed, leaving me with Dad.

The scene was all too familiar, and the sense of déjà vu made me ache all over. The last time I’d been in a hospital room like this was when my mother was dying. We kept a constant vigil by her bedside in the last few weeks, and it was as eerily quiet and sterile as the room I was now sitting in. In fact, it was the same hospital. But at least Mom had been awake every now and then, and able to talk and laugh right to the very end, despite how much pain she was in. I couldn’t handle going through this again.

Around four o’clock, I went downstairs to the cafeteria for some coffee. As I was pulling out my wallet, I noticed my cell phone in my purse. I paid for my coffee, took my phone outside, and dialed Orlando’s number. He was on the West Coast, so it was just after one o’clock in the morning. I hoped he’d still be awake.

“Yes?” Carrie’s voice answered the phone. There was lots of noise in the background, and I could hardly hear her.

“Carrie, I need to talk to Orlando,” I said firmly. I was not in the mood for her crap.

“He’s busy,” she said, annoyance in her voice. “I know you only work three hours a day, but some of us have jobs that require a lot more time and effort. Please stop bothering us.”

“Okay, listen to me very carefully, you catty little bitch,” I hissed, my patience completely gone by that point. “I don’t care who you think you are, or what power trip you’re on, but the fact is, you’re nothing but a lowly PR assistant with a chip on her shoulder. I need to talk to Orlando now, and if you don’t give him the fucking phone, I’m going to have you fired. It’s that simple.”

I heard her hesitate, then the phone was muffled for a moment. Finally, Orlando came on the line.

“Charlie?” he said, sounding rushed. “I only have a minute, what’s wrong?”

“My dad’s in the hospital,” I said, relief running through me at the sound of his voice. “I’m in Kitchener.”

“Oh my God,” he breathed. “Are you okay, love?”

“Not really,” I said softly. “I don’t know what to do with this, Orlando. I feel so lost right now.”

“Fuck,” he said quietly. “I’m stuck here for at least another few days. I’m sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to be here. I just wanted to hear your voice. Carrie doesn’t seem to think it’s a good idea to give you the phone when I call.”

“That’s her job,” he said. I could hear the wariness in his voice, but I let it pass. “She’s paid to make sure everything stays on schedule.”

“She doesn’t need to be rude about it,” I said, pouting slightly. “When I called earlier, she was a bitch, and she was even worse this time.”

“I didn’t even know you’d called earlier,” he said, sounding surprised. “I’ll speak to her about it.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Charlie, I have to go,” he said abruptly. “I’ll try to ring you tomorrow before the premiere, okay? I can’t promise it’ll be a long conversation, but I’ll try to at least get hold of you.”

“That’s fine,” I said, smiling for the first time in hours. “I just wanted you to know where I am.”

“I love you,” he said, his voice so tender and gentle I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms right at that moment. “Take care of yourself, darling. Get some sleep.”

“You, too,” I said. “I love you.” We hung up and I went back inside to get some restless sleep in the chair beside Dad’s bed.