After paying the bill, they left the restaurant hand in hand, hailing a taxi to the hospital. Nick had been steeling himself up for this moment the entire dinner, and he knew that Talia noticed his distraction, but she hadn’t said anything until his mind had wandered off again for the third time.
“Nick,” she had said, giving him an exasperated look. When he looked into her hazel eyes, he knew how much his melancholy was affecting her. She went on, “Nick come on, answer me.”
He hadn’t meant to ignore her. His brooding over his father and this entire predicament kept barging in on his thoughts, cutting off whatever he had been about to say.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” he mumbled apologetically. He knew that he was ruining their dinner⎯ he hadn’t had more than a few bites of the steaming soup, and had pushed the salad back and forth on his plate till what had been a masterfully prepared plate resembled a pile of soggy green leaves.
She folded her graceful hands in her lap, gazing at him with concern, and pursed her red, full lips, “I had asked if you were planning on stopping back at the hotel before you went to visit Joseph?” Nick glanced at her, troubled. Only his mother had ever called Joe by his full name.
“Do I need to?” he asked. Nick didn’t understand, in fact, most times her proverbial train of thought left him at the station, floundering for answers.
“Well if it’s all right with you, I need to stop and change. I don’t want to go to the hospital in these clothes, and I’d also like to…” she went on, but Nick was already thinking⎯ if she met Dad, and he was as rude as I remember him, what would she think? What if…
“Is that alright?” she asked hesitantly, misinterpreting his silence for disapproval.
“Well,” he stammered, looking for the best way to state his feelings. “I wasn’t aware you were planning on accompanying me to the hospital…” He trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. A brief look of hurt flashed across her face before she wiped it off with a mask of indifference.
“Well, I wanted to look at some wedding dresses anyway, so shall I call a cab or are you panning on picking up a rental?” her voice, carefully casual, caused guilt to wash over him like a flooded dam.
“Would you like to go with? “ He asked, peering into her closed off, almost distant eyes, “You can meet my Dad, if he is well enough.” He added the last part cautiously, hoping against hope that Joe would be heavily medicated and unfit for conversation.
She smiled, the dimples in her rosy cheeks showing, just another one of the things about her that Nick loved. “Only if you want me to, Nick. If you don’t want me to come along, I won’t, or I can stay in the lobby until you want to leave.”
The idea appealed to Nick, but after a moment of thinking, he discarded the proposal. It wouldn’t be fair to her, as his wife-to-be, and she would need to meet him eventually.
“No that’s alright,” he said amiably. “You should meet him.” If he decides to be nice for once, he thought bitterly. If Joe said one wrong word he’d whisk Talia back to the hotel. First impressions were everything, and he knew from experience that when it came to his dad, filters were for coffee, not for mouths. Any thought that went through his mind, no matter how awful, he’d say it unabashedly.
“Okay, it’s a plan, then!” She was excited, he could tell by the way her eyes danced at the prospect of finally meeting Joe. “Shall we go?”
And they had, her excitement over the wedding plans were helping him to ignore his disagreeable thoughts. He forced himself to keep a cheerful outlook during the ride, pointing out interesting things along the route.
There was something relaxing being in his hometown- the bustle of the city, the snow that he had not seen in years, and the familiar buildings. But so many things had changed, a harsh reminder of how he had not been home for so long.
It seemed as if the city had grown, more people, large buildings towering over sidewalks teaming with people. In a way, it felt alien to him, yet, also familiar, like an echo in a cave⎯ almost the same, yet slightly different.

The hospital itself was a dull, monotonous building with pristine white walls, a never-ending wave that reminded Nick of a blank sheet of paper, a forgotten memory, an unstated idea. The harsh, chemical odor, which all hospitals seemed to have, wafted through the air, tingling his nose.
Nick closed his eyes, reminded of the years Charlotte had been in and out of the hospital, always for unknown ailments. They hadn’t pinpointed what exactly was causing her to be sick so often, and by the time they had discovered the cancerous cells, it was too late. But he didn’t want to go through these thoughts again. He had spent years running from his problems, and he wasn’t going to waste those efforts now.
He slowly approached the secretary’s desk, with Talia close behind him for support. The woman sitting at the cluttered desk looked up at him with an inviting smile, her sparkling eyes full of hospitable amiability.
“Hello, can I help you?” she said in a cheery voice, which for some reason annoyed him.
“Yes,” Nick replied tersely. “Direct me to Joseph Partridge’s room.” The secretary’s smile faltered a bit at his voice, which came out more irate than Nick had meant it. To her credit, she recovered quickly.
“Of course,” she responded, turning to her computer.
“Nick!” Talia hissed, reproaching him for his rudeness.
“Can you spell that name for me?” The secretary asked, her long, slim fingers poised above the keyboard, waiting for Nick’s answer.
After she directed them to Room 311 on the third floor, Talia thanked the woman, and then pulled Nick aside with a harsh yank on his jacket sleeve.
“What was that?” her voice was cutting, her normally warm, hazel eyes flashing, and even though her short stature only stood at five-foot-four, she was still an imposing figure. Strange how she pulls that off, he thought offhandedly. Instead of answering, he hung his head, avoiding her piercing gaze, shuffling his feet. It was exactly the way his mother would look at him, reproachful and disappointed, staring him down until he either confessed or apologized. It must be something all women know how to do instinctively, he mused. Or maybe they practice, he thought, oddly amused.
“…And furthermore, she was trying to be friendly, so you had no right to snap at her like that!” Again, Nick had spaced out, oblivious to his surroundings as he ‘contemplated the world and its wonders,’ or so his father would say. Many times a day he would have to shake himself out of his own ruminations, and consciously try to stay alert. It wasn’t that he was tired; Nick just liked to think things through and not rush hastily into decisions, which was what Talia was asking for right now, a decision.
“Nick, are you even listening to me? I need to know what you want me to do.”
“Yeah, I’m listening.” Mostly, Nick thought, irritated at his failure to pay attention to his fiancé. “How about I go in and see if he’s fit to talk, and then come get you in a little bit.” She thought about his suggestion and agreed with a firm nod of her head.
There turned out to be a metal folding chair a few yards away from the room, and she sat there, giving him a supportive smile, which sure enough, gave him the nerve to knock on the door.
“Come in,” a rough, familiar voice rasped, barely loud enough for Nick to hear. Collecting his patience and his courage into a determined state of mind, he pushed the cold metal handle down slowly.
With his head held high, he strode into the room. Propped up by several pillows, his father was staring at the ceiling. It was astonishing to see his father like this; it been a long time since Nick had seen Joe. The last time they had been in the same room, his dad was enraged, red in the face and shouting at Nick furiously.
But he was nothing like that now, supported by the white pillows at the head of his hospital bed. His skin was pale and thin, seeming to sag off of his bones, showing the veins.
The room was a small, cramped space, with white colored walls and ugly lace curtains. Machines beeped, clicked, and whirred, creating a cacophony of mechanical sounds.
“I need more painkillers,” his dad called out, unaware that it was Nick, not the nurse. “My chest is killing me!” He was referring to the fact that his chest hurt because his heart was failing, due to the excessive alcohol consumption. His discomfort stirred no sympathy in Nick, and he narrowed his eyes in disgust. This is what happens when you can’t master your drinking problems.
It had always been a reoccurring problem for Joe. The only time he had managed to keep it under control was when his wife was alive, and now that she was gone, the issue had gotten out of hand. Nick just looked at his dad.
“Did you hear me?” Joe still hadn’t turned his head, choosing instead to glare at the ceiling.
“I heard you,” Nick was surprised at how calm his voice was. Inside, his stomach was twisting. He felt mad, but in a tired sort of way. He was sick of running from his troubles. It was time to face them. “And I think you need to suffer the consequences of your actions.” Nick wasn’t trying to be mean, but he honestly felt that his dad deserved this.
Joe started at the sound of his son’s voice. His head snapped down, staring at Nick with an unreadable expression.
His voice cracked when he finally managed to say, “Why are you here?” Nick didn’t answer right away. “What do you want?” Joe was glowering at Nick, daring him to speak.
“I wanted to talk, Joe.” Nick stated simply.
The hurt from Nick’s use of his dad’s first name registered on his face.
His eyes filled with sorrow. “I thought you never wanted to talk to me again,” he shot back.
Nick didn’t know how to respond. He had forgotten about that. Their last fight he had yelled those very words at his dad, something he had meant in the heat of the argument. He soon realized how much his dad meant to him. But he didn’t know what to say back without provoking another argument, so he stayed silent once again.
“You left,” Joe began in an accusatory tone. “You packed your bags and never came back. I didn’t know where to find you or if you even wanted anything to do with me. I waited all those nights for you, and you never came home! Did you ever think that I might care about what happens to you?!” Joe was shouting now, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.
“You didn’t care, you never cared.” Nick’s voice was chilling, a glacier compared to the snow outside. “All you cared about was your stupid gambling, and you wasted all the money we had⎯ I couldn’t even get into college. I had to enlist just so I had a chance for a future!” Breathing heavily, he pointed a shaking, condemning finger at Joe, “You didn’t love me.”
That shocked Joe into silence. He sat on the stiff hospital bed, his mouth open and gaping at his son.
“You really think that?” Joe rasped. He slumped visibly on the bed, as if the accusation had stolen every last bit of reserved energy.

Nick swiped angrily at the hot, salty tears that had spilled over, hating himself for his weakness.
“You never said it,” Nick was crying openly now. “Not once. I don’t remember ever hearing it from you.”
“I… I’m… sorry.” the last word was uttered so quietly, Nick barely heard it. The guilt that was displayed quite plainly on Joe’s haggard face should have been an indicator of his truthfulness, but Nick was not ready to forgive just yet.
“You were never around after Mom died. You gambled and drank away all the money we had,” Joe didn’t say anything, just stared at his hands, lying limply in his lap. “Say something!” Nick yelled, spittle flying from his lips.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“Not anymore.”
Nick, turning to stalk out angrily, yanked open the door, just to see Talia with her hand poised above the handle.
“Is everything all right? I heard yelling and I was worried you were… are you crying?” She reached up and tenderly brushed away one of the tears that trailed down his cheek. “Is there anything I can do?” She asked softly.
“No, it’s alright. I was just going to⎯“
“Who’s there?” Joe demanded. Nick sighed, and pulled Talia gently into the room and took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Dad, this is Talia Blake, my fiancé.”
“You… She’s your… You’re going to be married?’ he stammered.
Nick nodded nervously. Talia moved swiftly to the side of the bed, and set her hand on Joe’s shoulder.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Partridge. I’ve been really excited to meet you!” her excited grin lit up her face, and brought a faint smile to Joe’s lips, one Nick hadn’t seen in a very long time.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Joe murmured. After a small, awkward pause, he said, “How are you liking this awful winter weather?”
“Oh, I love it,” she said conversationally. “I’ve never seen so much snow¬⎯ it’s delightful.” She pulled up the plush stool that was in the corner, and sat down facing Joe. As they chatted, Joe gradually began to warm up to Talia, and looked to be enjoying her company. Nick leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his head resting on the wall, listening avidly to their conversation.
When it came time for them to leave, Joe and Talia had already become good friends, saying goodbye with promises to return. As Nick ushered Talia out, Joe called out, “Nick⎯ one last thing before you go?”
Talia must have sensed that it was important, so she whispered to Nick, “’I’ll wait in the lobby.”
Nick stepped back into the hospital room, buttoning his coat in preparation for the bitter cold that awaited them outside.
“Yeah?”
“I saw that she had an engagement ring…” Joe trailed off, a questioning look on his face. Nick didn’t understand where Joe was going with this.
“Yeah, I picked it out myself.” there was a hint of pride in his voice.
“Do you have the wedding ring picked out yet?”
“No, not yet. I was thinking about looking at one of the stores downtown, or maybe the jeweler who did Mom’s ring. Why?”
“Well, I was thinking that I could give you your mother’s ring. You could get it upgraded or reset or whatever you want,” he said shyly, a blush creeping over his pale face. “I know it might be a bit before I get out so you may have to… come back. I know you said you wanted nothing to do with this place, or me, for that matter. But if you could stand coming back to see your old man, maybe we could figure something out.”
The simple statement was said nonchalantly, but the words rang in Nick’s head, the echoes of something new and promising bringing a slight smile to his face.
“Are you sure?” Nick’s voice quavered with emotion. Nick knew that Charlotte’s ring meant a lot to Joe, and he wasn’t going to swoop in and take it without confirming that Joe’s choice was final.
“I am very sure,” Joe replied. “That ring symbolizes more than just a marriage of two people. It means so much more than that. It symbolizes love. Your mother’s and my love for each other…” he hesitated, “and for you.”