Free Falling in Love in New York by Melissa Hill

out.
    “My health’s not the best at the moment, son,” Pat announced, having left Finn wait anxiously while he poured the sugar and milk.
    Finn said nothing; he simply waited for him to elaborate.
    “I’ve been a bit weak in myself these last few months, which isn’t like me.”
    No it’s certainly not, Finn thought. His father was one of the fittest, most active people he knew. Up at dawn every day without fail, Pat would go for a good long walk in the morning before putting in a solid day’s work, and then coming home to tend to the household. He’d always been scrupulous about looking after himself, and because of this tended to be fitter than even his thirty-five year old son. At least, that was what Finn had always believed.
    “So I called down to Doctor Murphy who said that I was probably just low on iron and put me on some tablets. But nothing changed.”
    “Well I can’t see why he thought that,” Finn muttered. “You’re a demon for red meat –he should know that.”
    “That’s what I thought, but sure you know yourself what they can be like sometimes.”
    I sure do, Finn thought irately. Don’t bother checking anything out in detail or asking any questions, just think of the first reasonable explanation, and then stick the hand out for your fifty quid, thanks very much.
    “Anyway, they did a few blood tests since, and to cut a long story short, it seems they have to keep on eye on me from now on, just in case.”
    “In case of what?” Finn demanded while trying his best to keep his thoughts in check.
    Pat looked almost embarrassed. “Prostrate trouble – the numbers are high apparently. Lookit, don’t you be worrying about me now,” he said, sitting forward in his chair. “That’s not why I’m telling you. The last thing you need is to be worrying about me.”
    “How could I not worry about you, you’re my father for Christ’s sake!”
    Not to mention the only family I have he added silently, his thoughts frantic. The doctors must have made some kind of mistake or something. But for his dad’s sake, Finn knew he couldn’t panic, he had to get a hold of himself. 
    “The only reason I’m telling you now is that I have to go for some more tests soon– next month in Vincent’s.”
    “Next month …”
    “Yes. So I might need you to give me a lift in there now and again if you don’t mind.”
    “Well, of course I don’t mind.” Finn would do anything for his father, in the same way that Pat had done everything for him all throughout his life. He felt stunned … numb at the thought that this was happening now, that some form of illness had raised its ugly head. “So these tests … what’ll they achieve?”
    “God only knows, but Finn these things happen to men my age,” Pat was being remarkably practical about the entire situation, in much the same way as he’d been about every difficult situation he’d faced in his life. “Who knows how it’ll go? What will be will be.”
    Not for the first time, Finn wished he’d inherited some of his father’s strength of character, his extraordinary ability to face head-on any challenges life threw his way. Whereas in the face of challenges such as this one, Finn couldn’t summon his father’s strength; instead he simply felt weak, spineless and afraid–pointless traits he knew he’d inherited from his mother.
     
     
     
    He’d been seven years old when she left. He couldn’t remember much before that day, couldn’t really remember all that much about her , or what is was like having her in his life.
    Perhaps the memories just weren’t all that strong; or perhaps he’d blocked them out intentionally, Finn couldn’t be sure. All he remembered was arriving home from school one day to find his father sitting at the big oak kitchen table, his head in his immense, callused workman’s hands. Finn had never before (or since) seen his father cry.
    It was very strange.
    The family dog, Rex, who upon Finn’s arrival had been