Looking At Forever (The Rock Gods Book 4) (38 page)

Wheland walked across the hall and knocked on Alex’s room. Alex answered right away and Wheland walked inside. He didn’t want to beat around the bush and he really didn’t want to have a long drawn out discussion about this either, since he’d already made his decision. He was simply showing Alex the courtesy of letting him know what he was doing and that was that. The aftermath of his decision would have to work itself out however it was meant to, but that wasn’t Wheland’s concern at the moment. The only thing weighing on his mind was Rooster and getting to him as fast as possible. He would not let Rooster go through this without him by his side and that was the bottom line.

“Do you have an update on Rooster’s mom?” Alex asked.

“I do and it’s not good,” Wheland said. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. Rooster said the doctors have her on life support and they don’t expect her to survive. They’re talking about whether or not to unplug her.”

“Jesus, I was afraid of something like that,” Alex said.

“I need to be with him, Alex. I can’t let Rooster go through this alone,” Wheland said.

Alex ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Look, I know this is difficult for you to deal with here while he’s out there coping, but you have a responsibility to our band, too.”

“Sonny comes first,” Wheland said. He could already feel the muscles in his back cramping up.

“My wife is on bed rest so she doesn’t lose our baby,” Alex said. “And I didn’t blow off our tour to go home and deal with that, did I.”

“That was
your
choice,” Wheland said. “If I had been in your shoes I might have made a different decision. But I wasn’t in your shoes, and you’re not in mine right now. Sonny
needs
me and I
will
be there for him. Case closed. I’m only here to give you a heads-up to what I’m doing before I tell management.”

“And that’s it?” Alex asked.

“I’m making arrangements to fly back to L.A. as soon as I can have a plane fueled and waiting for me at the airport,” Wheland said, and started walking toward the door to leave the room. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’ll let you know.”

“What about the tour?” Alex asked.

Wheland stopped and faced Alex. “You know, Alex, right now I don’t give a fuck about the tour. Management can work that out any way they fucking want. If you want to replace me, fine. Do it. I don’t give a shit. I’m going back to be with Sonny because right now he is far more important to me than a few sold-out shows that can be rescheduled. Believe it or not, Alex, there are more important things in life than this band.”

Wheland stepped out into the hall and slammed the door behind him. His next call was to the charter service to reserve a plane flying to L.A., then he sent a text message to their manager giving notification of his need for a leave of absence. After that, he packed a bag and called himself a taxi for the airport. Ninety minutes later he was wheels up and airborne; his heart heavy from the knowledge of what was waiting for him in Los Angeles. This trip didn’t have the excitement attached to it as the last time he flew home did, but that didn’t make him feel less of a need or urgency to get there. He was doing this for Rooster; the man he loved more than life itself. He would be Rooster’s rock and prove without a doubt he was in this relationship for the long haul and that was the thought that would get him through the tough days ahead of them.

Chapter Thirty-One

Wheland arrived at LAX just as the first rays of sunlight were slicing through the clouds hanging over the city. He hadn’t even had time to sleep and it was already the beginning of another day. He slid into the backseat of the town car and had his driver take him directly to Cedars Mount Sinai hospital. He jumped from the car and ran through the main entrance of the hospital and into the lobby, ignoring the obvious recognition flaring on some people’s faces. He stopped at the information desk and asked the attendant for Sophie Roostarelli’s room number.

Fourth floor in the I.C.U. That didn’t sound good at all, Wheland thought. He took the elevator and started to bolt before the elevator had fully clicked into position on the fourth floor. He hurried down the hall toward room 4223 and stopped as he was about to pass a small waiting room. An all too familiar form caught his eye of Rooster standing in front of the large window. He slowly walked up behind him and slid his arms around Rooster’s waist, then pressed his whiskered face into the warmth of Rooster’s neck.

“I’m here for you,” Wheland whispered.

Rooster jumped at the sudden touch, then relaxed into the embrace, leaning into the strength of Wheland’s body. For several long moments they stood quiet. Wheland’s show of support slowly sinking in to Rooster, as Wheland’s arms secured him to his chest.

“How is she?” Wheland finally asked.

Rooster turned in Wheland’s arms and wrapped his around Wheland’s neck; his face rolling into the bend of Wheland’s shoulder. Wheland could feel Rooster’s body shaking and held him tighter to him, his hands made soothing strokes on Rooster’s back.

“Babe, it’s okay,” Wheland said. “I’m here now to help you through this. Okay? I’ll be your strength.”

Rooster choked on a sob and clutched at Wheland’s leather coat trying to gather fistfuls of it in his hands. Wheland held him tightly; doing his best to calm him, until Rooster finally leaned back to look Wheland in the eyes.

“We had a meeting with the doctors a little while ago,” Rooster said softly. “We decided it’d be better for my mom if she was taken off the machines. They’re gonna start the process in a few hours.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Wheland whispered. He held Rooster’s head in his hands and wiped away Rooster’s falling tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“She’s too young for this,” Rooster hiccupped. “I didn’t expect to be dealing with this now. Know what I mean? She’s been so healthy. This makes no fucking sense.”

“Have they figured out what happened?” Wheland asked, finger combing Rooster’s hair.

“My dad found her on the floor in the bathroom,” Rooster said. “He thought she might have fallen and hit her head, but at the hospital they ran some tests and discovered it was a stroke. They think she might have had a few smaller strokes leading up to this big one. Knowing my mom, she knew she’d had the others and hid it from everyone around her. That was her way. Even on her worst days, she’d get up and go about her chores.”

Wheland felt his stomach clench. He’d hoped to hear a different diagnosis when he arrived this morning, even though he knew the odds of a positive outcome to this horrible situation had basically been dashed early on. Sophie was brain dead. There’d be no coming back from that and Wheland was proud Rooster and his family were being brave enough to let Sophie go in peace.

Rooster’s forehead dropped back to Wheland’s shoulder again. “She has a living will and asked not to be kept alive by artificial means. We’re giving her that wish.”

“You’re doing the right thing, babe,” Wheland said. He kissed the side of Rooster’s head and nuzzled his nose into the soft waves of his hair to inhale the familiar scent. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, because I wasn’t lucky to have a mom like yours. But, following her wishes will be your greatest gift to her.”

Wheland felt the sobs quake through Rooster again and held him firmly to his chest, slowly rocking them back and forth. He’d hold Rooster as long as he needed and do everything he could to make this process less painful for Rooster and his family. He’d do whatever was humanly possible to take away the heartache for Rooster and own it himself, because his love was that deep for this man. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do, now, tomorrow, or any day in the future because Rooster was Wheland’s forever and he intended to make every single one of those days matter.

Rooster led Wheland down to his mother’s room. Marcos and Angela were in there sitting in chairs on opposite sides of the bed. They both rose to their feet when they saw Wheland entering the room with Rooster. Marcos was the first to hug Wheland and Wheland nearly choked on the emotion of the moment. Marcos’ hug made him feel wanted and needed, almost like he was part of the family.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Marcos said. “I know Salvatore would never say it to you, but he really needs you now.”

“I love your son,” Wheland said. “I’ll do anything he asks of me, or needs me to do. I’m here for him. Always.”

“You’re a good man,” Marcos said. “Salvatore is lucky to have you at his side.”

Angela threw a slender arm around Wheland’s neck and tugged him to her. Wheland held her and let her cry, then helped her back into her chair. He took a seat beside Rooster and took his hand. A gentle squeeze of his hand was meant to anchor Rooster, but the sad smile he gave to Wheland told him the touch was much more.

The four of them sat beside Sophie’s bedside offering quite resolve and occasionally reflecting on days long gone. Wheland was learning a little more about Rooster’s family and hoped reliving the happy moments were a distraction to what was really going on in the room.

“I wish I’d had the chance to get to know Sophie better,” Wheland said.

“She wanted that, too,” Marcos said. “She was so happy you were in Salvatore’s life, and she was hopeful you two might settle down together one day.”

“I very much want that to happen,” Wheland said and Rooster squeezed his hand.

They grew silent again, the consistent sounds were the various beeping and whooshing sounds coming from the machines keeping Sophie alive. The scene was surreal for Wheland. He’d never sat vigil over someone losing their life; never cared for anyone enough to do it.

They remained stoic, doing their best to accept the reality of what was happening, then the door to Sophie’s room opened. A doctor, two nurses, and Father Romano moved across the room to Sophie’s bed. Wheland respectfully stood up from his seat and stepped away from the bed while the doctor’s talked in hushed tones to Marcos, Rooster, and Angela. Rooster reached behind him for Wheland’s hand and Wheland happily took it and laced their fingers together, offering him a source of strength even from an arm’s length away.

The doctor explained the process to the family of what would happen and the nurses began dimming the lights and settling Sophie in the pillows behind her head. Rooster, Marcos and Angela stepped away from the bed to allow the nurses to get closer. Father Romano opened up his bible and began to pray quietly. Wheland listened as the doctor said it wouldn’t take long for Sophie to pass once she was off the machines, and how they’d keep her as comfortable as possible until the end.

“Is there anyone else you’d like to be present?” the doctor asked Marcos.

Marcos shook his head no.

“If you’re ready, we can begin,” the doctor said.

Father Romano began reciting the
Last Rites
to Sophie, laying the sign of the cross in holy water on her forehead, and Wheland bit back tears. She looked so small and fragile in the bed, and at peace, as the nurses began disconnecting the life giving equipment from her. It was almost as if Sophie knew she’d soon be released from this life to go to a better one. She seemed to almost sigh in relief.

Rooster and his sister moved back to the side of Sophie’s bed and Marcos stepped to the other side up by Sophie’s head. Wheland stood behind Rooster, his hands resting on Rooster’s shoulders and gently massaging the tension there, then he sat in a chair beside Rooster and took his hand.

“She never regained consciousness,” Rooster said quietly to Wheland. “I didn’t have a chance to say good-bye.”

“She knows you’re here, babe, and she can still hear you,” Wheland said. “Talk to her, tell her you love her, and give yourself the peace of knowing she heard you.”

Behind them the nurses shut off the heart monitor and suddenly the comforting beeping sound of the machine was gone. The respirator was the last piece of equipment to be shut down and that put the room into silence, a blanket of silence so loud, it made Wheland’s chest ache from the enormous weight of it.

The one remaining piece still connected to Sophie was her I.V. drip giving her a continual low dose of morphine. The only sounds now were the faint prayers of Father Romano and the muted noises from the hallway.

Rooster stood up and leaned forward. He kissed his mother’s forehead, then placed another kiss beside the shell of her ear. Then in a voice only he and Wheland could hear, he said, “Mom, you know I’ll always love you and you will never be forgotten. Your legacy will live on in each of us and I swear we’ll make you proud.”

Rooster sat back in his chair and took his mother’s hand. Wheland continued to hold his other hand. They watched Angela say good-bye to her mother and then Marcos, wracked with sobs, did his best to say good-bye to the woman that had shared his life for over forty years.

The end was as peaceful as the doctor had said it would be. Sophie drew in one shallow breath and exhaled, never to inhale again. They continued to sit by her side watching the life ebb away from her. The doctor stepped forward and pressed a stethoscope to Sophie’s chest, moving it around to three different locations, then stood back up.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Roostarelli, Salvatore, Angela,” the doctor said, looking at each of them. “Take as long as you want.”

A moment later, the doctor left the room along with the nurses. Marcos lifted his wife’s hand and kissed her knuckles. He turned away from the bed and swayed on his feet. Angela rushed to his side and helped him into the hall. Wheland glanced at Rooster. His eyes were fixed on his mother’s face; tears filled his eyes and clung to his lashes, then spilled down his cheeks. Wheland draped an arm Rooster’s back and held him.

“She loved you, you know,” Rooster said quietly.

“Really?” Wheland asked.

“She did,” Rooster said. “Ever since the day you came to dinner with me, she’s talked endlessly about you. She said I’ve never looked happier and how thrilled she was that I met you.”

“The day we met was a turning point for me, too,” Wheland said. “I’m a better man because of you.”

Rooster’s head slowly turned toward Wheland and a faint smile lifted the corners of his tear-wet lips. “I wouldn’t have asked you to leave the tour and come here, but I’m really thankful you did,” Rooster said. “I’m not sure I’d be able to get through this without you.”

Wheland squeezed Rooster’s hand and blinked the tears building in his own eyes. “I love you, Sonny, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” Wheland said. “Through the good times and the bad; I’ll share them all with you, and I
always
have your back. It’s as simple as that.”

Rooster leaned into Wheland and hugged him tightly. “Thank you... for your love, your strength, for being my everything,” Rooster said, burying his face into Wheland’s neck.

Wheland held Rooster until his eased out of the embrace. “I should go see how my dad and sister are doing,” Rooster said.

Father Romano was sitting in a small, private waiting room with Marcos and Angela. Wheland kissed Rooster’s forehead and leaned in to his ear. “Go be with your family,” Wheland whispered. “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

Rooster nodded and walked into the room. His sister stood up and embraced her brother, then they sat down together. Wheland watched the scene for a moment, trying to swallow around the lump clogging his throat. He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed a text message to Alex.

“Rooster’s mom passed around 10 this morning,”
Wheland typed.

Alex was quicker to respond than Wheland had expected. In fact, Alex was so angry when he left Oklahoma City he wasn’t sure he’d even get a response from him.

“I’m so sorry for his loss and yours. Let me know what the funeral arrangements are when you have them,”
Alex typed.

“I’ll keep you updated,”
Wheland replied.