An Unforeseen Turn of Events

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Daniel lay in bed, nauseous and weak. His body felt like a heavy stone which he couldn't move. Whenever his family checked in on him while they were hurrying to get to work or school, he closed his eyes and pretended he was asleep.

And he didn't even begin the chemotherapy. That would be first thing tomorrow morning.

"Dad?" Trudy whispered near his bed in a low, weepy voice.

Daniel moved around a little, opening and closing his eyes as if he were stirring from sleep.

When he fully opened them, he saw his daughter's red-rimmed eyes staring at him.

"Are you all right, Daddy?"

"I'm as fine as I can be, honey.

"How I wish this wasn't happening! Why can't things go back to how they were before?" Trudy was sniffling now.

"Come here," Daniel said as he lifted his hands out to her. She put her face on her shoulder and wept softly.

They both needed hugs.

How're you doing, Dad?" Tim popped his head into the room.

"Hanging in there, son."

Daniel surveyed his son, tall, lanky and athletic. His daughter had long blond hair, a thin but blossoming shapely frame, and big blue eyes. They did not resemble him in the least but he loved them more than life itself. He prayed God would only grant him a long life so he could continue helping and guiding his beloved son and daughter.

You two have already given me plenty of nachas, he thought to smile.

In times of strong emotion, Yiddish words often came to him. At his bar mitzvah, when the rabbi blessed him, he prayed Daniel should always give nachas, or joy, to his family.

"Trudy, we gotta go to school," Tim said gently. "Will you be all right alone, Dad?'

"Trudy's hug will get me through the day," Daniel reassured him. "When you two come home, I want to hear all about your day."

Trudy kissed his cheek and smiled.

"Kids, your bus will be coming any moment," Christine said at the bedroom door.

The twins kissed her and left.

"Are you practicing the heavy breathing and focusing on relaxing thoughts as the doctor suggested?" she said after hearing the twins close the front door.

Daniel closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't get my parents' faces out of my mind. I've never seen them so shattered."

When he opened them again, he noticed the dark circles under Christine's eyes. She slouched slightly at the door—not her usual erect posture she had acquired from being around models. Grey streaks were growing at her roots; Christine was normally meticulous about dyeing her hair.

"Don't make yourself responsible with those guilty thoughts," she said while walking toward the bed as if reading his mind. She clutched a cup of coffee in her hand as she tried to smile. "Are you going into work today?"

"Yeah. Today's the day I tell my bosses about my illness," Daniel said, He preferred to avoid the word "leukemia."

Christine's shoulders slouched even more as she sighed while sipping her coffee. "Of course, call me if you need to."

He nodded. "I'm going to get up now. Don't let me stop you from getting ready for work. I'm not weak and frail yet."

As he rose out of bed, Christine melted into his arms.

I've got to be strong for my family," he thought.