The Seeds Of A Daisy: The Lily Lockwood Series: Book One (Women's Fiction) (24 page)

2. I direct that treatment be limited to measures which are designed to keep me comfortable and to relieve pain, including any pain which might occur from the withholding or withdrawing of life-sustaining medical care or treatment
.

3. I direct that if I am in the condition described in item 1, above, it be remembered that I specifically
do not
want the following forms of medical care and treatment:

A. Intubation

B. Medical Ventilator

C. Feeding Tube -Nasogastric or Gastic

E. Dialysis

Daisy Edwards Lockwood

Lila Schwartz witness

Paul Roderick Esq

I
finally hear from Dr. Grippi. Two hours have passed since I faxed my mother’s living will to the hospital. She tells me that Dr. Niptau would like me to meet with me later, at 5 p.m. A feeling of trepidation blankets my being. It is stifling. And suddenly breathing is difficult. I ask nervously, “Before the meeting, can you give me an idea of what we’re going to talk about?” I wait. She clears her throat (a nervous tic she has that signals bad news is coming) and says, “I’m really sorry, Dr. Niptau will fill you in on all the details. I don’t have the chart in front of me.”

I ask, “Well can you at least tell me if you received the fax I sent you?”

“Yes, thank you—we have it in her file.” She sounds rushed. She definitely wants out of the conversation and off the phone.

“So I’ll tell Dr. Niptau that you will be in the conference room at five, correct?”

(The fucking conference room. Shit, here we go again!)

I call Auntie D. and tell her about the living will and the impending meeting. There is silence on the other end.

“Are you there?” I ask, thinking the call may have been dropped.

She finally answers. She sounds tired. “I’m here.”

“In a million years I would never guess that this would happen to Mom. That we would be doing…this,” I tell her. I hear Auntie D. sniffling on the other end of the phone.

“Let’s wait and see,” she says, and blows her nose. “We can’t worry until we have all the facts. Isn’t that what Daisy always tells you?”

“Yes.” I walk pass a mirror and see that my eyes and face are swollen and red. I have to try to repair the damage before heading out to the hospital.

There is another long silence. I hear Donna sigh, “So no worries, kiddo, the guys and I are going over there in a few minutes. We’ll be with you through thick and thin.”

I know she’s trying to sound cheerful—but we both know we have absolutely nothing at all to be cheerful about.

After hanging up, I walk outside to clear my head and stand on the porch, looking out over the Sound. Usually there are sailboats and a few motorboats, but today there are none. Earlier, the weather report said that there was a major storm coming up from the south. The water is a murky shade of ugly slate gray, and the waves are getting angrier by the minute. From experience, I know that within minutes they can rage into huge, dangerous, crashing walls.

The air is cold—it must have dropped almost twenty degrees since yesterday and I shiver. I enter the house and get one of Mom’s warm button-down white Irish fisherman’s sweaters. I put my arms in the sleeves and smell my mother’ perfume,
Child
, which has a faint scent of gardenias. I close my eyes and imagine that my mother is right here, next to me, hugging me.

I wrap the sweater around me, put on a pair of old boots, and walk back outside. The wind has picked up and is starting to really whip things around. The small piles of leaves that the gardener left at the side of the house are whirling around like miniature tornados. I stand there for a minute and watch their dance.

I have to secure the sailboat and pull the two large kayaks into the barn before I leave for the hospital. I walk down to the dock and tug the boat closer. The wind tosses me around like a rag doll. Over and over again, I fall down, until I get a better grip on the rope and use all my strength to pull.

After struggling with the wind and waves, I’m able to drag the boat in closer. I secure it to the dock using strong sailor’s knots, the kind Gramps patiently taught me years ago. I feel exhausted, but I still have to pull the kayaks up to the barn—a task that can be challenging even on a sunny day. With the storm kicking my ass, it’s nearly impossible. I grab hold of the rope tied to the end of the first kayak, and pull. The barn is uphill, and the weight of the kayak and the force of the wind keep knocking me over. I feel a few raindrops, and then it begins to pour. Big stinging bucketsful of rain pummel me.

After being pushed down for at least the tenth time, I drop the rope, stand facing the water, raise my clenched fists, and with my wet hair flying in every
direction at once, I scream at the top of my lungs. FUUUUUUUUUCK YOU, FUUUUUUUUUCK YOU, FUUUUUUUUUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wind is so loud that my screams are quickly absorbed, so even I can’t hear them. A question comes to my mind: When the people who truly love you die, does the same thing happen? Do you get absorbed by life until no one really sees you or hears you, or even cares for you any longer? I grab the ropes and pull again.

It takes forty grueling minutes, but at last the kayaks are stowed safely inside the barn. I walk back into the house, exhausted and freezing, yet feeling somewhat triumphant. I take off my wet clothes, make some hot tea, and lie down on the couch. I am totally spent and need to close my eyes for a moment.

Within minutes I fall asleep. I dream I am on a small fishing boat in the middle of the ocean. The sun is shining, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Everything is calm. I am quietly sitting on the edge of the boat, soaking in the sun and relaxing. Gramps is standing next to me, his old khaki-colored fisherman’s cap pulled so far down over his face that I can’t see his eyes. He is fishing calmly. Every once in a while, he whistles an unrecognizable tune and tells me to sing along. I say, “Gramps, I don’t know the song—please teach it to me.” He shakes his head, pulls the line out of the water, and recasts.

Without warning, the sky becomes dark and there is a booming clap of thunder. A large bolt lights up the heavens. The waves are getting bigger by the second. They pound the boat ferociously. I hold onto the side and almost fall overboard. I find a rope that is tied to the inside of the boat and hold on for dear life.

I look at the waves and see a baby bobbing up and down in the violent swell. The baby disappears. Without a second thought, I jump in to rescue it. No matter how hard I try, I can’t swim against the fierce current. My arms are fatigued, but I keep struggling to make headway. A wave appears in front of me. It’s the size of a small building. I look up and know I am surely going to die. This is the way my life is going to end.

I spiral down, down, down. My eyes are open and I am ready to accept my fate. I let go and feel my life slip away, slowly. Suddenly, I am lifted from behind by a powerful force. I turn around and see my mother holding me up with one hand. It is a younger, more beautiful Daisy. Her skin is luminous and she seems
completely at peace. She holds me up and together we rise above the water, continuing higher and higher until we are in the clouds.

I scream, “Get the baby, Mom; you have to save the baby.” She lays me down on a cloud and turns around. There, next to her, is the guy from the photo, her first love, Steve Santini. In his arms he is cradling the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen. He hands her to me. I take the baby and begin to cry uncontrollably. “Mom, how can I take care of this baby if I’m floating on a cloud?”

“We’ll bring you back to the boat and we’ll help you take care of her. She is for all of us,” Mom says, smiling. She hugs and kisses me.

The house phone rings. I wake with a start and leap up, expecting my mother to be right there. My heart is pounding and I’m breathing fast. I look around. I am still alone. The dream was so incredibly real. I even heard her voice and actually smelled her perfume. I am spooked and on edge. I have a peculiar feeling someone is watching me. I find the phone—it had fallen to the floor while I was sleeping. The call’s from the hospital.

“Hello?” My voice sounds shaky even to me. There is silence on the other end, and then I hear a man’s voice, muffled and soft. “Is this Lily Lockwood?”

I strain to hear him. “Can you speak louder? Who is this?”

“This is David Rosen, your mother’s….”

“Oh, thanks for calling,” I say. “Do you remember I came to see you?”

“You did? No, to tell you the truth, I’ve been so drugged up the last few days, I didn’t know where the hell I was or who the hell I was,” he says apologetically.

“Oh, that’s all right, no worries. Trust me, I could use a little sedation myself right now.” We both laugh.

“She’s not doing too well, is she?” he asks. I hear him choke—is he
crying?
“I saw her—she was staring straight ahead…”

“Yeah, I know.” I feel sorry for this guy. Whoever he is, he obviously cares for my mother. “How do you know my mother?” I ask.

“Well, that’s a long story—we’re friends. Actually, we just met,” he stammers

Was my mother having a fling with this younger guy?

“I’m about to leave for the hospital. I have a meeting with my Mom’s doctors. Can I come by to see you?” I ask, and grab my coat.

“Well, I’ll be in dialysis later in the afternoon for a couple of hours. You could either go to the dialysis unit on the fourth floor or come by my room before I go for treatment,” he says.

“Why are you on dialysis?” I have only a vague idea what it is.

“I have kidney failure,” he says matter-of-factly.

I open the front door, remember the storm, and go back up the hallway to get an umbrella.

“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well what can you do, that’s life. I guess I’ll see you later,” he says.

I take a breath and get ready to go into the eye of the storm.

There are a few orderlies in the elevator, chatting away and laughing. When I walk in, they become quiet. I see that the fifth-floor button has already been pushed. I decide to stop in and see David Rosen before going up to the ICU.

The door opens and I get out. The orderlies are whispering behind me. At this point, I couldn’t care less who sees me walk into his room. The bed next to the door is still empty. The room feels different, more alive. The lights are on, and David is fully awake. A man is seated next to the bed with his back toward the door. Both he and David are laughing.

“Hi, I’m Lily—I promised you I’d stop by… but if you have company…”

The visitor stands up and turns around.

I feel like the air has been knocked out of me. He is about 6’1”, dark-haired, and handsome. But it isn’t just that he is handsome. In my industry, I’m around handsome men all the time. While you never get completely immune to it, like everything else, you get used to it.

It is more than this stranger’s wavy dark hair, blue eyes, and dimples. He has an aura about him. I can’t put my finger on it. I feel an electric shock go through me when we look into each other’s eyes.

I have to make an effort to look away and focus on David. He looks genuinely happy to see me. He says, “Hi, Lily, thanks for coming. I’m glad I’m not drugged up like the last time. Sorry about that. Be honest—did I drool?”

“No, of course not… well, just a little,” I tell him.

They both crack up, and David makes the introduction. “Lily, this is my baby brother Robbie. Robbie, this is Daisy’s daughter, Lily.”

He extends his hand and I shake it. Zap! Another electric shock. This time it starts at my fingertips and travels through my whole body. He doesn’t seem to notice.

He looks into my eyes and says, “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I know your Mom’s going through a bad time. I’m truly sorry.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. Listen, I can come back another time.”

“Robbie’s just leaving. He doesn’t have time for more than a drive-through visit. He’s a big-time doctor at New York Hospital and he’s getting ready to head back to Africa with Doctors Without Borders. I came up from Dallas and was in New York for a couple of days. Since he couldn’t fit me into his busy schedule, I figured I’d have to pull something mighty drastic to get him to honor me with his presence.” He gestures to all his bandages.