Beers, Lies and Alibis (Warblers Point Series Book 2) (12 page)

Instead, she plastered on a fake smile and said, “Oh, I’m adjusting quite well, thank you.”

It almost pained her to be so fake. The read-headed bitch that was sitting across from her was far more irritating than Phil the Quack, if that was possible.
 

The facility her parents put her in was horrific. Yeah, it was new; she had her own room and she was allotted time on the built-in iPad that was encased into a desk in the entertainment room, but it was so…sterile. Would it kill them to dress up the walls and add other pictures on the walls besides annoying geometric shapes that any “artist” could create? The whole facility was depressing as fuck, not that she needed to be more depressed.
 

“Neala, I asked how are the meds working?”

Snapping out of her thoughts, she looked at the fire crotch and answered, “Haven’t felt much of a change.”

That was the truth. They put her on new medication, hoping it would help her, but she had yet to feel anything change. Yes, it had only been two days, but she expected to feel like a different woman. She longed to feel like a different woman. It was killing her that she had let her illness take over her life, ruin her marriage and take her daughter away from her…temporarily, at least, since she was in this godforsaken “retreat.” Retreat, her ass. That was just a fancy way of saying a place to stuff the crazies.

“It might take a little while for your body to adjust. In the meantime, have you talked to your husband? How is he feeling?”

Neala’s head snapped up once again at the mention of her husband.
 

“Why the hell are you asking about him?”

Fire crotch adjusted in her seat as she tried to soak in the tone in Neala’s voice.
 

“It says in your file that you are married; you are on your husband’s insurance. I just thought…”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Neala said, cutting off the nosy little bitch.
 

Calmly, fire crotch removed her thick-rimmed glasses and set them on her lap, along with her notepad.
 

“Neala, does your husband know you are Bipolar?”

And there it was, the word Neala had come to despise. Ever since Phil the Quack diagnosed her, she felt like the word was following her around, taunting her. That word was the reason she didn’t want any more kids; she couldn’t fathom pushing her disease onto her children. It was the reason why she divorced Liam, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the highs and lows of her life, and it was the main reason she had accused Liam of cheating on her.
 

When she was manic, her mind went to a whole other world “regular” people never experienced. The endorphins running through her body were so uncontrollable, they sometimes turned on her, making her delusional and crazed. She knew, deep down in her heart, that Liam would never cheat on her; he was not that kind of guy. But in her mind, she saw Liam cheating on her, she saw him kissing Sophie the way he kissed her. She saw Liam fucking Sophie in their bed, the bed they bought together after they got married. The images were so real and vivid in her mind that she didn’t have a choice but to believe them, even though, in her heart, she knew they were wrong.
 

“Neala…”

“No,” Neala said as she sunk down in her chair. “He doesn’t and he’s not going to find out. It’s better if he moves on. I’m too much for him to handle. He is an amazing man and deserves to be with someone who will give him more children and not pass on their disease. It’s hard enough that my baby Catherine might be just like me.”

“Does that scare you?”

Neala wanted to flick fire crotch between the eyes for her dumbass question.
 

“Are you mental? Of course it scares me. Do you really think I want my daughter to live the life that I’m living? To live out such highs in her life that she becomes delusional, only to drop into a deep depression that is so unbearable, even taking a sip of water is too much to handle? Do you really think I want that for her? Well I don’t, but not a day in life goes by that I don’t swear at myself for putting her in such a position.”

“With the proper treatment, it is all manageable.”

Neala snorted out in laughter. “Okay, lady. Look around us. I’m in the fucking looney bin because my parents couldn’t deal with me. You call this manageable? I call this prison. I’m not allowed to shave my damn legs for fear I might try to slit my wrists. I’m not allowed to hold the ‘community’ iPad in my hands for fear that I might throw it at someone’s head. I’m allotted private time, technology time and group time like a damned invalid and you think this is manageable? Damn, you are just as nuts as the rest of us.”
 

The rest of their session didn’t go as well since, apparently, Neala was too insulting of the facility. Her negative attitude only brought her back to her room without “computer” time. They said it wasn’t punishment, but they were just giving her some time to cool down. Bullshit, it was all bullshit. Neala saw right through all of them. She’d pressed her luck with fire crotch and she was punished for it.
 

Stupid bitch.
 

***

Fiona finally arrived at the hospital mid-morning, thanks to the bad-weather detour and the three hour time change. She was way later then she wanted to be, but at least she was there. Booker had arranged for a car to pick her up from the airport and drive her to the hospital, which was incredibly sweet of him. She didn’t really want to think about Booker at the moment because it only brought up painful feelings.
 

Instead, she lifted her shoulders, put on her big girl pants and walked through the hospital doors. The receptionist was kind enough to give her directions to her dad’s room without Fiona having to ask. She didn’t think she could have mustered up the words if she’d had to.
 

On her elevator ride up to the third floor, she silently gave herself a lecture about having to be the rock her family so desperately needed at the moment. Usually, Liam was the rock, but Fiona knew he wouldn’t be right now. There was no way, not with everything that he was going through. Finn was usually the consoler and he could be a bit of a drama queen at times, so Fiona expected his emotions to be out of whack…and then there was Bradon. In situations like these, he completely shut down. He wasn’t helpful. He wasn’t even kind of helpful; instead, he was an ass that usually only made the situation worse, so Fiona knew she had to step up for the family.
 

The elevator doors dinged open and Fiona was confronted with the antiseptic smell hospitals usually pumped through the vents, or at least that’s what it seemed like they did.
 

Looking around, Fiona spotted the familiar brown hair of her three brothers, all sitting in the waiting room, with their heads in their hands, looking down at the speckle-tiled ground. She cautiously walked up to them, not wanting to startle their thoughts.
 

“Hey boys.”

All three O’Leary heads shot up and, before she could even blink, she was wrapped up in her brothers’ arms. They passed her around as if she was the main dish at a potluck and they took their time, soaking her in. She missed her boys, even though most of the time they could be irritating as hell, she missed them.
 

Finally they set her down, giving her some space to put her clothes back in place. “How is he?” She asked, almost cringing, not really wanting to hear what they had to say.
 

Finn stepped up and put his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll bring you back, sis.”

As they walked to their dad’s room, Finn filled her in. “Right now he is stable, in a coma, but stable. They were able to repair his heart, which was a good thing, but due to the lack of oxygen to his brain during the surgery, he went into a coma. The doctors aren’t really telling us much about his chances of coming out of it. They said everyone is different, so it’s hard to decipher what might happen. Right now, we’re going to pray and hope that Da will come back to us.”

Fiona nodded her head as she looked at the room number that her father was resting in.
 

“Is Ma in there?” Fiona asked, nodding to the door.

“Yeah, she hasn’t left his side since they put him in this room.”

They both peered in through the window that was on the door and Fiona’s heart was instantly cut in half. Her dad was hooked up to a bunch of machines, his face was pale and he looked almost smaller than normal. Their bright-haired mom looked lifeless as she rested her head on his bed and held their father’s hand while the other held a rosary.
 

At that moment, Fiona felt all the color drain from her body and her earlier pep talk in the elevator completely faded from her mind. The scene through the window was too much for Fiona to take. Her parents had always been such strong staples in her life and now they were fighting for each other; they were fighting for her dad’s life.
 

If she ever needed Booker, it was at this moment. She needed his strength, his warmth and his warm arms wrapped around her body. She didn’t think she could face her parents alone.
 

“You can do this,” Finn said, almost reading her mind. “Ma needs you to be strong, baby girl.”

“I know. I just wish Booker was here.”

Finn must not have realized because he looked around and then said, “Shit, I didn’t even think about him not being here. I guess I’m not used to you two together yet. Where is he?”

Not wanting to get into a long conversation about her disconcerting relationship, Fiona said, “He’ll be here this weekend. Okay, I’m going to go in.”

“Be strong.”

Fiona nodded and quietly pushed the hospital door open. The beeps of the machines her dad was hooked up to filled the silence of the room, as well as the quiet Irish accent of her mom saying her Hail Marys and Our Fathers, praying for her dad’s recovery.
 

Moving closer, Fiona placed her hand on her mom’s shoulder to let her know she was present. Usually, when Mary Margaret sees one of her children she throws her arms around them and fusses over them until they can’t take it anymore. Not this time, this time Mary Margaret looked up at Fiona as tears streamed down her face. Mary Margaret leaned into Fiona as Fiona was the one to do the embracing this time, a task Fiona wasn’t quite prepared for yet.
 

“Me girl. I’m so glad ya’re here.”
 

Silently, they held each other as Mary Margaret sniffled into Fiona’s shoulder, causing her heart to break into two. She could do this, she could be strong for her mom.
 

“I told him to lay off the bangers,” Mary Margaret said, fretting like always. “Oh Fiona, I can’t lose him.”

“I know, Ma. It will be okay.”

At that moment, Finn walked into the room and grabbed Mary Margaret from Fiona.
 

“Come on, Ma, you need to get something to eat. Let Fiona have some time with Da, okay?”

Their mom shook her head in protest, but Finn continued to walk her out the door, leaving Fiona alone with her dad and the beeping machines that were keeping him alive.
 

The room was dark, only the night stand light was on, which was shining down on her dad. He had oxygen running through his nose that threaded around his ears. His salt and pepper hair was combed to the side, like always, and the crinkles around his eyes were relaxed, non-expressive. The image in front of Fiona was an image a child should never have to see. She knew her parents weren’t going to live forever, but she wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to be a grown up and take care of her parents, visit them in hospital beds and be the one to comfort them. She wanted to go back to when she was ten, playing follow the leader with her brothers around the lake. Those were simpler times, less confusing times.
 

Fiona sat down in the chair her mom had once occupied and grabbed her dad’s almost lifeless hand. She brought it to her lips and kissed his blue-collar knuckles gently. He was such a good man, a man who would do anything for anyone if they asked, a pillar in the community and the rock of their family. To see him so helpless was gut-wrenching.
 

“Hi Da,” Fiona said weakly. “I hate that the first time I come back to Warblers Point to see you is in this hospital.” She looked around the room to take in the surroundings. “At least they have you in a decent room. The TV is subpar; when you wake, you’ll see what I’m talking about. I didn’t know the brand Zenith still existed.”

Feeling uncomfortable and not knowing what to say to him, she continued to ramble. “So there was a fire at The Sleeping Potato? Ma always told you to check on the wiring the boys did. Frankly, I blame them,” Fiona tried to say sarcastically, but failed miserably.
 

“We will fix it for you, Da. I promise. We will rebuild, even if it is winter. We will rebuild and when you wake up, everything will be okay, like it never happened.”

A tear fell down Fiona’s face as she continued to talk to her dad. “You’re going to wake up, you hear me Da? You have to wake up. We need you, Ma needs you, the town needs you. I’m not ready to say goodbye yet, so you have to come back.”

Fiona was now sobbing as she rested her head next to her dad on his bed. “I’m so sorry I left. I know that’s why your heart seized, because you miss me; I left a hole in your heart. I know the stress between you and Ma was from me. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to experience life, Da.” Fiona guffawed. “Little good that did me. I don’t…” Fiona tried to gather herself, but her emotions were out of control as she continued to sob. “I don’t think Booker and I are compatible. We are from two different worlds and, even though I love him, I don’t think it will ever work out. And now, all this happened while I was gone. I know there probably wasn’t anything I could do to help, but a part of me feels so guilty that I wasn’t here right away. I’m so sorry, Da.”