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Lucky, Chapter 14 - Part III
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 01:28:46 +0000 UTC[:::: Read any of John’s Stories on John’s Story Guide ::::]
[:::: Go Back to Lucky, Chapter 13 ::::]
Warning: This chapter may stir some of the dust around you, and you’ll need to tell your loved ones of your allergies…
[:::: Lucky, Chapter 14 – Part III ::::]
It was unfair.
The sun was shining, the sky was a wonderful blue, the grass was a vivid colour of green, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, even though I wanted it to be pouring rain. Thunder and lightning struck the ground in empathy with the emotions that were raging inside of me would have been welcome.
My face was a mask of stone despite the torrent of emotions that I was worried would burst from my chest at any moment. Grace was hovering nearby, looking after the kids, who were old enough to understand that something was wrong.
Funerals were always a challenge for young kids.
I looked to a spot where Anton’s wheelchair should have been, and wanted more than anything to hear his voice, ask his advice, but he wasn't there.
I must have let the mask slip for a moment, because suddenly Ashleigh was hugging my leg.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” my youngest daughter told me as I lifted her into my arms. I nodded and kissed her cheek, not trusting my voice.
I felt arms encircle me, and a sob from my older daughter, and it undid me.
[:::: - ::::]
Three months after the wedding, I felt my life was blessed. I felt like my nickname, ‘Lucky’ was good despite Anton’s declining health. The kids were growing up before my eyes, Grace was the most amazing partner I could ask for, and I had both Tori and Lacey back in my life.
My relationship with my adult daughters was different from what I expected. We had put a lot of effort into reconciliation, and there were days when a casual sentence or phrase would cause us to freeze, caught in the past. But we made the effort to get past it. The three of us spoke regularly, making time to talk through our concerns. We tried not to rehash the past; instead, we mentioned what had triggered us and then asked for help to move past it.
It was after one of our chats, where Tori admitted that Daphane had called her and started bitching about me, that caused her to hang up on her mother once more, that Lacey admitted she was pregnant and had a similar experience trying to talk with her mother about it.
After the hugs and a couple of happy tears, Grace was brought up to speed, Matt was asked to join us, and we had an impromptu family dinner to celebrate.
“What about you, Tor?” I asked Torri.
She sat for a moment and snuggled into me as we sat on the couch.
“I haven’t found that person yet. But perhaps… ” she paused, then shook her head. “I am not going to settle, Dad. I want what Lacey and Matt have, or more, what Grace and you model for all of us. I am not getting into a relationship unless I believe I can have that.”
I thought for a moment before I replied.
“You shouldn’t let the past stop you…”
“No, it's not that,” she interrupted. “Well, not like you think. I promise I won’t shy away from it if I feel I have met someone I can see myself with. And… there is… someone… It just hasn’t happened yet.”
“Fair enough,” I told her. “I won’t push anymore.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Later, as we were saying farewell to everyone, I watched as Tori turned from hugging me to hugging Grace. Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, and she collapsed.
She was rushed to the hospital, and I was with her all the way. After an intensive and exhaustive set of tests, the cause was found.
PCS…
For reasons that medical science does not understand, the genetic markers in her body had activated, and she had the same liver disease that her sister had.
Of course, we got her into treatment immediately, and once I had the approval for surgery to remove another part of my liver, I once more underwent the knife to try and save Tori. It was a risky procedure for me, as my liver was still recovering from the previous operation. But I had to give it my all.
My recovery was not as smooth as the previous operation, and I even spent a small amount of time in the critical care unit as my body briefly stopped responding to their recovery protocols. But with good care and time, I recovered.
Tori, as well, was struggling. Lacey was by her side daily, her belly growing even as her sister’s body deteriorated.
When Lacey gave birth to my first grandchild, Thea, each of us spent time between the maternity and critical care ward, where Torri was not staying six out of every seven days on average.
You would have thought that with a daughter giving birth and another daughter in critical care, their mother would be invested. She wasn’t; every conversation was like pulling teeth. Every word spoken was harsh and bitter. Daphane refused to come and visit, blaming me for the state of the relationship with her daughters.
First, it was my money; I had it, and she didn’t. Next, it was I ruined her life by having Brandon sent to prison, next, it was I was using my influence to stop her getting a job. Excuse after excuse was given, yet despite my offer to pay for flights and accommodation, Daphane never bothered.
I have a host of photos of Lacey and Torri with Thea in Torri’s hospital room, he sister never more than moments away when she could be. Grace and I spent as much time as we could as well, since we didn’t dare speak of it, but we were not sure that she would make it.
Thea was almost six months old when we spent our final day together.
Torri has been getting worse; for some reason, the transplant wasn’t working.
“Hey Dad, Grace, Matt, could you give Lacey and me a few minutes?”
I started to panic, and I felt my eyes moisten as the implications of what she was asking meant.
“Of course,” Grace told me as she took my hand and led me out, Matt following behind.
Lacey was in there almost half an hour before she came out and ran directly into Matt’s arms.
“Grace, she’d like to talk to you.”, she said quietly.
I was lost, stunned, and I felt weak and unable. Sitting heavily in a chair, Lacey came to my side and said nothing, and I pulled her into a hug.
When Grace came out twenty minutes later, her eyes were ringed red, and she came straight to me and kissed me.
“She wants to talk with you now,” she told me.
I felt like I was walking the gallows walk as I forced my body to walk back into the ward. She was there, my daughter. Though ravaged, she was beautiful. She had taken the ultimate risk to face my rejection to save her sister, and yet here she was now, being mutilated by the same disease, and we could not save her.
“Hey, Dad,” she said, smiling, still wiping her eyes.
“Hey there, beautiful,” I told her, uncertain of what to say or do.
She patted the bed beside her, and I moved around to the side, and we spent a few minutes arranging wires and tubes so I could hold her, and she could lean onto my chest.
“I’m scared, Dad,” she admitted to me. “To everyone else, I told them to be brave, but Dad, I am scared.”
I held her and felt my voice catch in my throat.
“I know, I’m scared too.”
“I know we don’t talk like that anymore, but I am sorry, so sorry for all our time apart.”
I squeezed her.
“Yes, but we have these moments, and I will treasure them forever. I have my big girl here, one of the bravest and most amazing women I know.”
For the next hour, we spoke softly, laughing and crying. Telling stories and sometimes just making them up. Torri cried into my chest and asked me to stay, and I told her I would be there until she fell asleep. I was not going anywhere.
I pressed the call button as she continued to cry and asked the nurse if she could bring the family back in. Lacey immediately sank into her sister on the other side, Matt holding her hand as Grace took mine.
For the next six hours, none of us moved as we talked, prayed, laughed and cried. When Torri fell asleep, we stayed silent, just being there. Her chest rose and fell, yet her skin became yellow with each passing moment.
But she mercifully stayed asleep and passed quietly a little after two in the morning.
[:::: - ::::]
So today I am still, stoic, trying not to let the turmoil show that was writing inside me. Torri had brought us back together as a family and saved her sister's life. Yet had it contributed to her own death? Everyone told me that I couldn’t blame myself; I had done a dangerous thing to donate once more to an organ in my body that was still regenerating from saving Lacey. It was going to be over a year before I recovered this time. But I would have given my life had it been able to save Torri.
However, now Ashley was in my arms, my youngest daughter hugging me and telling me it was going to be okay. Big sister Torri was in heaven now with God and the angels.
I smiled and kissed her nose.
“How did you get so wise?” I asked her.
“Torri told me,” Ashley squeaked. “She said it was now my job to look after you since she had to go to heaven.”
The comment was delivered so innocently and with conviction that I almost cracked.
The service was beautiful. Many of the friends and colleagues she had made while here in Sydney came along with several people I knew from Brisbane. They all came up and hugged Lacey and I sincerely.
I had, of course, been one of the pallbearers for Torri’s coffin, and had proudly walked it out and stood with Grace on one side of me and Lacey on the other as we watched the hearse retreat. Torri had donated her organs to science to help understand PCS better. In a month's time, there would be a very small family-only ceremony, where we would receive her ashes after they had removed her organs and cremated her.
We were getting ready to head for a wake to be held in a hall, a small walk away, when Daphane let us know that she was in attendance.
“Isn’t that beautiful?” she said snidely from behind us. “A grieving family, mourning the loss of a faithful daughter.”
We all turned to see Daphane standing there. She wore a long floral dress, a big hat, and sunglasses; however, there was no escaping the voice.
“Mum,” Lacey said, stepping up before I did. “You were invited to come. Why didn’t you sit with us?”
Daphne snorted.
“Why, so you could ridicule me more?” she said haughtily. “I mean, you have never even invited me to meet my grandchild, so why would I sit with you at your sister's funeral?”
“Daphane,” Grace pleaded. “You would have been welcome; we are all mourning Torri’s loss.”
Daphane’s ire flared, and her nostrils flared as she looked at my wife.
“And what right do you have to talk bitch,” she spat, surprising us and everyone around us. “She was my daughter, not yours. So what, you stole my husband and pretended to be there for my daughters. They were MY family, not YOURS!”
“Daphane,” I exclaimed. “Behave yourself.”
She turned her ire toward me.
“Oh, and now the disabled fat freak speaks,” she spat. “I mean, it's not like you were much of a man or a father when we were married, why would it be any different now. How you got married and had more kids and managed to convince my daughters to abanon…”
“MUM!” Lacey yelled, interrupting her mother. “Hold you … tongue.”
I could sense the relief about to be expelled and appreciated her restraint. Mark was looking at me, and I gave him a simple ‘not yet’ signal, and I could see that Matt was coiled tight, ready to spring to the aid of his wife, orders or no.
“Lacey, Lacey, Lacey,” Daphne mocked. “Don’t you remember when you had PCS and the human pin cushion here couldn’t be contacted?”
I felt Grace start to reply, but I squeezed her hand. Let her rant; it made her look bad, not us.
“Your sister had to drag him back by his entrails to get him to help you. He didn’t want to do it.”
Lacey looked at me, then back to her mother. Daphane thought she had caused a rift.
“That’s right, Lacey,” she said, a wicked grin splitting her face. “Your deadbeat father refused to donate; it was only your dearly departed sister who demanded he help her through legal threats that got him to do his duty. Bruce is nothing more than a waste of space that is good for body parts, nothing else. I mean, he saved you. Why couldn’t he save your sister?”
The resounding slap that echoed through the crowd a moment later caught all of us by surprise.
“You Bitch,” Lacey spat, as Matt was suddenly trying to restrain his wife from stroking her own mother a second time. “You sanctimonious, lying bitch.”
Lacey was flush with anger, as Matt restrained her, she was struggling against her husband. But he was holding her back. It didn’t stop Lacey from accusing her mother, though.
“My father put his own life on the line when medical experts and Torri told him no, too, because he was still recovering from the first transplant, and he did donate. He almost died, bitch.”
“It's okay, Lacey,” I said soothingly, trying to defuse the situation.
“No, Dad, it's not,” she said. Matt was holding her even tighter as she was ready to stroke again. “Every word that has come out of her mouth as long as I have known her has been lies and double talk. She uses everyone around her to get what she wants, and when you wise up to her manipulations, she blames everyone but herself for how everyone wants nothing to do with her.”
I looked at Daphane and tilted my head while raising an eyebrow. Lacey had summed up her mother in a single statement.
“So Bruce, now you turn my own daughter against me.” My ex-wife accused me. Of course, I noticed that she never responded to her daughter.
“Daphane…” I started, then stopped.
“What, Bruce, what!” she snapped back.
I took stock of the people around, those who had come to support us in mourning for Torri and the looks of disdain they were giving Daphane, and the sympathy they were giving to Lacey as she was now crying into her husband's arms.
“Nothing,” I told her quietly and turned away, indicating to Matt to usher Lacey away. I looked over at Mark, who was standing with Emily, her husband. Between them, they were looking after all the kids and I gave the nod.
“Oh, that's it, you fucking coward, run again. Leave, and slink away again. You are the worst mistake of my life.”
I think everyone was surprised how fast I moved, but in the next moment, I was right up in Daphane’s face, snarling.
“Hold a mirror up to your deformed face, you fucking shrew. We just buried our daughter, and all you can do is throw insults,” I spat with years upon years of repressed hatred. “You want to talk about wrongs, about missing out, then let's do it bitch, right here in front of everyone.”
I was snarling, and Daphne still hadn’t figured it out.
“Let's talk about how you and your fucking lover stole from me, first money, then my daughters. Let's talk about how you manipulated them so that when you about forced me into penury, lost a foot in an accident and was so depressed that I tried to take my life, you told my daughter not to worry because I was just faking it for attention.
“Let's talk about how you intercepted every letter the girls tried to send me, begging for forgiveness, and you sent them back return to sender.”
Daphane was now starting to realise that I was not letting up, and she began to pale and took a step back, but for each step she took backwards, I went with her.
“Let's talk about how you demand to be the centre of attention, yet never put the work in to deserve it like at your daughter's wedding.”
“And let's not even mention that even as your daughter lay dying, you could not get over your own fucking pride to say goodbye. Torri told me to tell you if you bothered to turn up here, not to worry, because her Dad would take care of her, which I did when she was taking her last breaths in my arms, shedding tears and telling me how scared she was.”
“Where were you, Daphane, when Torri took her last breath? I know where I was; I was balling my fucking eyes out and holding her. Sobbing that I had lost her.”
“You want to point the finger and blame. Well, how about it, Daphane? I’m right here. I’m angry, Daphane, angry at all the years I missed with my daughters, and so fucking pissed off with you right now about stopping us from being able to reconnect because you are a twisted fucking witch.”
I could feel my pulse in my neck, and my vision was narrow. If I let myself go much more, I might physically assault her. So I forced myself to stop and stand up straight; I would not touch her. I am better than that. I still eyeballed her with hatred, though.
“But now, don’t ever be in the same room as me again, if Lacey ever lets you in the same room as her, which I doubt she will after today, make sure I am not in there, or I will have my security throw your ass out of the room and not in a nice way.”
“Go back to your hovel, Daphane,” I spat. “Go by ten fucking cats as they are the only creatures that will likely have anything to do with you after today, but more than likely after a few days they’ll hiss and scratch thee fuck out of you as you’re just not a nice person.”
With that, I turned and stormed off to the waiting limo, my family piling in behind me, and the crowd dispersing as Daphane stood there getting looks of disgust from everyone.
[:::: End of Chapter 14 ::::]
[:::: Read Chapter 15, Part III - Epilogue ::::]
[:::: View the Lucky Story Page ::::]
[:::: Read any of John’s Stories on John’s Story Guide ::::]
Comments
John Other
You know what this is my fault and with the push on white suit I spaced. It's Sunday arvo here. I will get it out in the next few hours Sorry all
Brian7714
Is there some reason that chapter 15 has been delayed? According to the " Lucky " story page, it should have come out yesterday. ( the 24th )
Adam_Sephenson
I think both John and I spelt it wrong, it’s PSC aka Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis. The most heartbreaking thing after reading up about this is that Torri had a 80% survival chance, but the PSC came back anyway :(
Brian7714
First of all, duimb American question, what the heck is PCS? I tried to look it up and I could'nt find anything. Now on to the rest of it. I usually do not cry when reading any story but you had me crying at the ernd of this chapter, well done my friend, well done indeed. I relly wanted her to survive, so he could reconnect with both kids. As fdor the ex-wife, thgere is a word to describe her here in the states but I was raised not to use those kind of words.lol All in all, well done, well done indeed.
