HOPE FOR CHANGE... But Settle for a Bailout (24 page)

“But what is it?” asked Larry. “I’ve been
here a day and she hasn’t stirred.”

“I gotta go, Larry, said Lori, handing him
the bag she had brought. She leaned over and kissed him on the
cheek. “Dee and I will come back tonight.”

“It’s okay,” said Larry. “Don’t worry about
tonight. Rest your foot.”

Lori, walking with a slight limp, exited, as
Lena followed the departure with the camera.

“Your grandmother is unconscious because
your father authorized her to be sedated when be signed the
original admission papers,” said Dr. Bosch, holding a file
folder.

“My dad said put her out?” asked Larry.
“What other papers did he sign?”

“He filed a DNR, a next of kin, and...,”

“DNR? What’s a DNR?”

“Do Not Resuscitate,” said Dr. Bosch. “The
instruction was to not authorize use of a respirator, feeding tube
or other heroic measures, should she fall into a vegetative state
or should her body fail catastrophically.”

“Where do I sign reversing that? I’ll pay
for anything that needs to be done to keep her alive.” Larry
reached into his shirt pocket and smiled when he produced a
Southwest Airlines pen.

“You can file competing instructions, but
unless one of you holds conservatorship or, at minimum, a power of
attorney, disagreements like these would either need to be resolved
within your family, or through legal clarification.”

“What?” said Larry, “you mean, like, in
court, with lawyers?”

.

“I know it’s late, Emily, but I really need
your help. Can you come to Long Beach Memorial?”

.

“I’m tax,” said Emily Kashabara, sitting in
the second chair beside Emma bed. “All tax. I can make calls and
maybe draw someone in, but are you sure you want to start by
sicking a lawyer on your dad? Don’t you want to at least try
starting with conversation?”

.

“Bix,” said Lori, standing with December in
the doorway of his grandmother’s room. The two entered, followed by
Calvin, who sat in the second chair.

Tres von Sommerberg and Lena entered, Lena
carrying the camera, but setting it down just inside the doorway
once they entered.

“What the hell are they doing here?” said
Calvin. “Another trap to make me look like a dick?”

“Dad, they’re… they won’t film.... I told
them not to,” said Larry.

“Larry, Dee and me are gonna go to....”

“Don’t go, granola girl,” said Calvin. “I
need all the distractions I can get right now. Why don’t you and
hot stuff make out or something.”

“Such a pig,” said Lori, turning. “We’ll be
in the cafeteria, Larry. Call when you need us.”

“Too bad,” said Calvin. “Instead of eye
candy, I get heartburn.”

“Look,” said Larry, “between insurance and
me, whatever grandma needs, it’ll be paid for, so just please sign,
saying they can do whatever they need to, okay?”

“No way, boy,” said Calvin. “I’m first in
line, and if she’s ready to go, then it’s her time to go.”

“Don’t be a complete asshole,” said
Larry.

“She’s 90 years old,” said Calvin. “She has
no friends. She lives alone. Aside from you mooching food and
money, she’s got no interaction with the world. What the hell is
there to live for?”

Larry began crying.

“I know you hate me,” said Calvin. “But look
at it from the Cow’s perspective. She’s got one grandkid who will
never have kids… Hell, you’re never even gonna have a woman. You’re
miserable all the goddamned time, whether you have money or no
money.”

“But she’s got me, and we have each other,”
said Larry, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Let’s suppose that’s enough for today. Your
grandmother loves you. Ring the bells. But what about next week and
next year on Treasure Island? Do you have any clue what she’s going
through medically? I’m not saying ‘kill the cow.’ I just said don’t
act like heroes, pulling out all the stops.”

Larry sat silently, holding Emma’s hand and
using his other hand to wipe away tears. “I do hate you,” said
Larry. “And you obviously hate her, and that makes me hate you
more.”

Calvin turned to von Sommerberg and Lena.
“Why don’t you flip on the camera so you don’t miss a moment of all
the family love and affection.”

“Can we?” said von Sommerberg.

Lena slapped his hand, as he reached for the
camera.

“I’m next of kin, boy,” said Calvin. “That
gives me some rights. I’m not changing instructions and you’re in
no good position to get your way.” Calvin stood up. “Damn, wish
granola girl and hot stuff were here doing a show.” He turned to
the door and walked out.

.

Emily Kashabara stood alongside a 40-ish man
in a green-checked jacket and khakis, across the hospital bed from
Larry.

“You can challenge the DNR order, though
your outcome will depend on whether there are papers establishing
your father as the signatory for your grandmother,” said the man,
“but absent such papers, your odds are almost as good as his if it
isn’t summarily dismissed first.”

“Uh, well, do it,” said Larry. “Whatever you
need to file. Whatever it takes. You and Emily.”

“Larry, I’m all tax,” said Emily.

“Ms. Kashabara,” said Larry. “I need your
help. You may be a tax person, but you are also tapped in to where
I am at, even if that isn’t about laws. Please. Can you work
together?”

Chapter Fifteen

Trials

December Carrera held an enormous coffee cup
in her hands as she sat alongside Larry on the bleachers
overlooking the San Diego Kroc Center aquatic competition pool. The
sun, barely risen, was losing its daily fight with the morning fog,
leaving those gathered for the Western Regional Trials to fend for
themselves for warmth.

“I can’t believe I didn’t bring blankets,”
said December. “The girls hurt, they’re so cold.”

“You can have my jacket,” said Larry,
unzipping his straight-out’ta-the-’70s down jacket.

“I should’a told Lori to bring two of what
she’s got on, cuz she looks warm,” said December, as, in the
distance, standing poolside, Lori stood in her long, lined
windbreaker that went almost to her ankles. December sipped from
her cup. “I hope she wins fast so we can go someplace warm.”

At the pool, Lori removed her cloak and
stretched, bent, and then shook each leg. As she walked, it was
with the barest limp. December screamed, “Go Soldier Girl!” Lori
looked up towards the bleachers and smiled.

“Is she a soldier?” asked the teenaged girl
sitting next to December.

“All Army,” said December.

“Ho-yah!” said the girl. “My dad’s Army.
He’s in Bahrain.”

Lori and a line of swimmers took their
places on the line of blocks and, as one, drew into a crouch. On a
gunshot, the swimmers dove and swam. Lori and two others made quick
time in leading the pack. In the stands, December chanted, “Ar-MEE!
Ar-MEE!” which was picked up by the family next to her. By the
third lap, dozens of people in the bleachers were chanting. Lori
and a second swimmer led the pack by a wide distance at the
two-minute mark. Lori would pull ahead and the other swimmer would
close the gap. As Lori entered the last lap, Larry, December, the
teenager, her family and about a dozen others in the stands stood,
yelling, “Ar-MEEEE! “ With a splash, Lori and the second swimmer
reached the finish at nearly the same moment, followed five seconds
later by the rest of the pack. In the pool, Lori looked up towards
the bleachers, smiling.

The scoreboard at pool’s edge flashed times.
“L.L. Lewis – 04:10.03.”

“Is dat good?” yelled December.

“I think so,” said Larry.

“Two can qualify,” said the teen. “And she
did really good. She your sister?”

“Something like,” said December.

“You guys look totally different.”

.

December ran straight into Lori and wrapped
her arms and as much of her body as she could into an engulfing
hug. “Baby! You were so good!”

Lori smiled and put one arm around
December’s shoulder. “When do you know if you are going to the
Olympics?”

“C’mon,” said Lori, laughing lightly. “We’re
not even done with the 400 meters. I’ve still got the hundred, two
hundred and eight hundred. I got a lot of heats.”

December pulled Lori’s swim coat open,
popping the snaps in one motion. “Dat’s what I want. Some heat. Let
me in dere.” She quickly inserted herself into the flaps of the
coat and pulled herself tight to Lori’s body. “Yeh,” she purred.
“How long before you swim again? Maybe we could go somewhere and…
you know.”

Larry walked up to the two, carrying two
styrofoam cups. “Hot chocolate or coffee?”

“Dee, I’m a little busy,” said Lori, as she
kissed December. “I gotta stay focused, okay?”

“No!” said December snuggling in.

Lori laughed. “I’ll take the chocolate,
Bix.”

“The hot chocolate? Really?”

“Share?” asked December.

.

“I wish she’d worn the suit I gave her,”
said December, as Lori stood at the block for the finals in the 400
meter women’s freestyle.

“There are really strict rules about suits,”
said the teen next to Larry and December. “You can get disqualified
for having the wrong suit or cap.”

“They should be hot, like the one I gave
her,” muttered December.

As the gun sounded, Lori’s launch left her
at the end of the pack. She closed the distance by the end of the
first lap, but never made her way deep into the pack and, despite a
burst of speed in the final lap, lagged, coming in sixth. Climbing
out of the pool, the limp was pronounced.

December got up and quickly made her way
down the bleachers to the area where she could wait for the
swimmers, with Larry following. The teenager followed Larry. When
they arrived at the open area, December had attached herself to
Lori, and a woman in her 80s stood next to the two, she and Lori
locked in an intense conversation as Larry and the teen
approached.

“To meet Adlington,” the woman said to Lori,
“you must see through the pain and the pack.”

“Hey, Mrs. Pat’s Champs,” said Larry. “Lori,
are you okay?”

Pat McCormack went button-lipped, nodded
politely to Larry and smiled to the teen, before stepping a few
feet back.

“Horrible leg cramp,” said Lori. “…
Happens.”

December loosened her two-armed wrapping
grip on Lori and pulled back so she just held one arm around Lori’s
waist. The teen stepped forward. “Miss Lewis? You’re Army? I hope
you win.”

“Thanks,” said Lori. “Um… what’s your
name?”

“Mary,” said the girl. “Mary Elisa. My dad’s
in Bahrain.”

“She is a real champion,” Pat said, to the
teen. “The real thing.”

“Well, just keep loving your dad and hug him
extra big when he comes home,” said Lori, reaching out to wrap her
arm around the teen.

“Okay,” said the girl, as she hugged Lori,
and then turned, jogging back to the bleachers.

“Are those for this match?” asked Larry,
pointing to the board, which showed Lori in fourth.

Lori let loose a sigh. “Those are the 400
overalls,” she said. “Missed a slot by two.”

“For the Olympics?” asked December.

“No, Dee… qualifying for the nationals,”
said Lori. “The top two at Nationals go to London….” Lori gently
pulled December to her and kissed her forehead, as December wrapped
her arms around the narrowest part of Lori’s waist. “Pumpkin, I
gotta get back to it, okay?”

“So you’re not going to London?” asked
Larry.

“Not for the 400 meters,” she said, gently
pulling December to her and smiling to Larry. “Maybe for the one-,
two- and eight hundred, but no matter what, I got it pretty
good.”

.

Lori lay back in the leather of the rented
limo, as Larry opened a can of club soda. “Seltzer?” he asked.

“Yeh, I’ll take that,” said Lori, sitting up
end reaching for the glass. “And a glass… fancy.”

“Now dat yer not training, can you have a
French fry?” asked December.

Lori laughed. “I’ll have some of yours,
sure.”

December climbed to the seat next to the
smoked glass that separated the driver from the passengers and
tapped on the glass, which lowered. “Sweetie, when you see a
Mickey-Dee’s, pull in, okay?”

“So is the Olympics thing done then?” asked
Larry.

“I suppose one of the qualifiers from today
could get hurt or something before the Nationals, but unless
something like that happens, yeh, done,” said Lori.

“Hey,” said December, “I got some thuggy
friends who could take care of things for ya, if you know what I
mean.” She smiled and lifted her eyebrows. Both she and Lori
erupted in laughter. “Lunch is served,” said Larry, pointing to a
pair of golden arches. The driver slowly threaded the limo into the
narrow drive thru and Larry lowered the rear window, ordering three
double cheeseburgers, two large fries, an apple-walnut salad, two
grilled chicken snack wraps, a diet Coke, an unsweetened iced tea,
a large coffee, an ice cream cone and six oatmeal raisin
cookies.

Larry collected his change off the hundred
he gave the cashier and began passing bags and a drink tray to
December and Lori. The two women placed the bags on top of the two
refrigerators in the limo and began taking items out of the bags.
December tapped on the glass again and when it lowered, she held
one hand close to the driver’s shoulder. “Ralphie, want some
fries?” December thrust a large container of fries forward, which
the driver took.

“Thank you, Miss,” said the driver.

“Sure, sweetie.”

The glass went back up and December crossed
back to lay beside Lori, who was picking at her salad. December fed
her a French fry, playfully getting it into her mouth after several
misses.

“So did you need a coach and training camp
and all that?” asked Larry.