Open Arms

Chapter Twenty Nine

"I really appreciate you guys comin'." Angus stepped aside to let his parents in the apartment. Cleaning it had become a thing of the past, as clothes hugged the floor and newspapers littered the kitchen table. A collection of pale artwork lay abandoned in the hallway dressed in cobwebs. "Sorry 'bout the mess."

"Don't mind us, dear, it's nothing we haven't seen before," Mrs. Young said as she set her purse down on the couch. Angus hurried to take her coat while his father sat down next to his wife clasping his hands. "We're happy to be here."

"How's she doing?" Mr. Young cut right to the chase. Knowing how much his son loved this girl it broke his heart to have this situation befall them. Angus hung the coat up and headed for the kitchen to fetch the kettle. 

"She's uh...she's okay. She wants to come home."

"The poor dear," Mrs. Young said. "It's just awful." Angus cleared his mind of distracting thoughts as the kettle overflowed under the running faucet. Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he agreed. "You're doing a fine job looking after her."

"Th-thanks, Mum," he swallowed. "We can leave in an hour if you guys want. I'll have tea ready before then."

Mrs. Young beamed at the young man that was her son. "That sounds fine with me, Angus," she said. "I want her to have plenty of rest before she gets visitors." 

"Is anyone else coming to see her?" Mr. Young asked. The whole trip to London his face had been turned down with concern at the prospect of losing his family. Tea was a welcome comfort. A few cups clanked in the kitchen. 

"I've called her mum," Angus answered doing his utmost to keep his temper under control. "She's not comin' at all, she hasn't picked up or returned any of my calls." He sighed and set the cups on the counter. "Susan can't come because of her children an' her job an' everything an' she was just here anyway to--" He stopped short. They didn't need to hear that story. "Well uh...the guys have already been to see her, an' Harry an' George came the other day." He cleared his throat, his cold finally beginning to subside. "I introduced her to Brian. They got along fine."

A few drops of rain fell outside. A sharp breeze picked up. "And when do they say she can leave?"

Angus returned to the living room and turned the lamp on. "They haven't," he answered.

"Are they keeping her there for observations or does she need surgery...?" His father's eyes followed him closely as he sat down and crossed his legs.

"They were worried she'd need a blood transfusion or the like but they got her just in time. They've got her on an IV now an' they want to run tests to make sure her blood is responding to treatment an' they want to make sure her kidneys are okay." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "She's exhausted."

"I'm sure she is," Mrs. Young said. "I'd feel better if she came home soon. I know you would too." Angus coughed once into his elbow. "I'm anxious to see her. Margaret would have come but she had some business with her husband's family and I don't want to make her pick and choose."

A flash of sun knocked on the window while three raindrops held a race on the pane. Mrs. Young removed her glasses to dab at her eyes and Mr. Young crossed his foot over his knee. He turned his head at his son who kept his own gaze down at his lap. He had practically thrown himself down on the armchair with a sigh, pushing his hair out of his face for the third time. Mr. Young knew it had been a while since their last reunion from the recent length. His son was busy and he understood. Still, it was good to see his youngest; grasping onto any sign of dependence he could find and remedy. He'd give Angus the earth and sky if he asked. 

A loud whistling sound came from the kitchen and Angus stood up to fix the tea. He served his parents first then took a cup for himself and returned to his chair. "So how's work?" his father asked.