Finding Francesca

"Yes Dad. Shh. We almost lost you Daddy."

"Where am I? Where's Lucky?"

"Fuck your stupid bike Dad." She presses herself on my chest and sobs into my neck. "Fuck... I'll be back, if you need... The button. There."

I try and it seems like my arm is stuck. I reach again and find it moves but not properly. It's white and fat and I feel like vomiting. Lurching and retching with my mouth held firmly close, I swallow back the vomit and try to sit up. Someone holds a bag near my face, and I purge. Hands brush my hair. Hands rub my face and when I am finished throwing up, they hug me tight. I pay for medical insurance but didn't think hugs were included.

"God Paul, you frightened fuck out of me." And then I make sense of it. It's Chessie and she's holding me, and I'll be okay. I'm floating on some kind of pool lounge in a sea of numb glory. It's so beautiful. It feels like that day I lay with Chessie on the little beach and watched the world go by. Then I sleep again.

"Careful." I hear. Weight, I feel. There's a heaviness on my chest. When my eyes open this time, I control them. They aren't cloudy and remotely controlled. They are clear and there is so much pain. Looking at my right arm I know my masturbation career is temporarily sidelined. There is a cast that runs from my shoulder to my fingertips. There are big shiny bolts. Eight of them; five in the forearm, three in the upper arm. I'd like to read my fucking chart.

The heaviness on my chest is a sleeping Francesca. She looks angelic splayed across me drooling on my chest and looking broken, like she's been crying. I want to pull her close, but I need to speak with Delia. We have some serious conversations to have before I follow my heart down the road it wants. In the meantime, I need to puke again.

There is a barf bag on the little trolley thing to my left so after establishing my left arm works, I use it to reach for the little gift and fill it. The noise and motion of my retching wakes the sleepy woman who's been pillowed on me and starts her crying. She reaches quickly for the nurse's button and thumps it, wiping tears from her almond shaped, brown and bloodshot eyes that pin themselves to mine in something like fearful hope.

I'm wiping my lips and face with a wet wipe, wishing for a glass of water when the nurse eyes me suspiciously and notes lots of things on her clipboard.

"Pauly, stay this time. Don't go back to sleep please, please, please." I hear beside me.

My toes itch. I try to sit up, but I'm strapped to the bed. "Please relax Mr Brandon." I look for the origin of the instruction and find a grumpy looking nurse. Her serious eyes look at machines and she jots things on my chart.

"What happened?" That's the question I need answers to. "I remember getting hit."

"You've been in an induced coma for three days. Had some swelling. Wait till you see your helmet then you'll understand."

"My hair?" I pat at my head finding a bald spot and a dressing.

"Your hair will grow back Mr Brandon." Says the stern lady. Delia and Chessie watch seriously from the side of the room as the nurse checks the fingers of my right arm for circulation. "Broken in twenty-three places. Almost a ward record. Tell me if you can feel this."

There is a kind of tugging sensation on each foot, so I nod.

"Good," she shows me the needle she had poked me with, "You have a compressed fracture of your lower spine. Luckily it didn't sever, just swelling. It's going down nicely. Your biggest problem was the head injury. You were technically dead for about two minutes during surgery. These young ladies have a checklist to read with you that will help establish if there's been any long-term injury from lack of oxygen and pressure."

"Jesus, I did a good job then." I look at Chessie and Delia. "Sorry guys."

"Your daughter is a very assertive young woman. Despite the obvious conflicts of interest, she's convinced your doctor that she can assist with your care so long as she does not make decisions about medication or treatment. Miss Chen however..."

Chessie is glaring defiantly at the older lady. "Miss Chen refuses to take direction from anybody. It would be healthy for her to leave the hospital if you can convince her to go and shower and maybe eat something."

She draws the curtains open and leaves. Delia is the first to speak. "Are you tired Dad?" she glances at her sheet of paper.

"A bit, honey. Sore mostly. Is this your checklist?"

"Haha, no. I just wanted to know if you were up to it."

Chessie just stands with big dark eyes and stares at me with something that looks like brokenness in her gaze. She looks like she's teetering on the edge of just finished crying and about to start again.

"You okay love?" I ask her and she shakes her head.

"Nope. Not even a bit." She wipes her eyes.

"Darlin, can you do something please, I'm hungry. I feel like I haven't eaten for a week."

"Dad no food yet."

"I need to ring work. They are going to need... God, where were we? Checklist or something."

Chessie is holding my hand and Delia smiles at the gesture.

"Delie darlin I need to have an important... fuck..." I groan at the wave of pain that flows through my arm.

"I've never really heard of an 'important' fuck and I don't think that hospital is probably the best place for one, Dad. You'll have to put that one on standby and answer some of these questions okay?"

Laughing hurts.

"Oh, couple of ribs too." Delia tells me.

"Name?" She demands holding her pen.

"Delia Louise Brandon. I chose the middle name."

"Your name wally."

"No, my names not Wally. I'm sure of, ow!"

"Dad, every time you're a smartarse I'm going to test the sensitivity of your feet with my clipboard. Do we understand each other?" Fran laughs beside me and brushes my hair out of my eyes for me. I cling to her hand like a lifeline. I'm so weary and can feel myself slipping back to sleep.

"Paul Edward Brandon. Forty-three... Thirteenth of December Nineteen Seventy-six. Fifteen Franmar Place, Peak Crossing. 0491 867530. No, I don't want solar panels. Ow!"

"Swelling seems to be settling well." Smiles Delia.

"A dog, a fish, a cat, a plane." She says.

"What?"

"What was the odd one out?"

"Oh god please don't hit me again. Darlin, I'm tired, can we do this..." My eyes close and pain surges.

"One last question okay?"

"Okay." I groan and force my eyes open.

"Did you read my email?"

"What?"

"My email you wanker."

"No. It's the weekend... I don't..."

"You're a dickhead."

"Is that a medical opinion?" She slaps me playfully with the clipboard on the feet.

"Listen Dad. I 'know' okay, and I'm fine with it. Fuck, I want it. You both deserve to be happy. I said it all in the email you fuckwi..." And then she just fades away and the pain goes with her. Vanessa holds my hand and stares deeply in my eyes.

"Paul?" she asks me, "What are you doing here?"

"Sleeping. I'm so tired."

"You can't be here. It's not time."

"I need to just..." I hate when she does that. This time she punches me right in the chest.

"I love you, now fuck off. Go get happy arsehole."

I wake to a room full of nurses and machines. Fran still holds my hand, but she's dressed in blue things and it's hard to see her. I can't remember why I'm here. There was a crash or something. The room spins hard and I hold on to her hand and use it to pull myself awake.

"I love you too." I tell her worried brown eyes.

"Then fucking stay awake this time." She smile's desperately at me. "I love you right back."

I died twice more. There were little bleeds near the base of my skull where there was a second fracture that put pressure on things and did some medical stuff. Every time Nessy sent me straight back with a good punch and sound advice.

Nearly six weeks later I was cleared to go home. Despite the nurse's insistence that 'Miss Chen will not listen to anyone', she did listen when Delia eventually said, "Franny you stink. Go home. I'll sit with him. He's going to be okay, unless you hang around any longer stinking up his air. Then he'll just die from pollution."

The irony of dying being a sport, or something got us both laughing long enough for Fran to release my hand and actually sniff at herself.

"God... Eww..." There was tongue in the kiss she gave me before she left.

..............................................

It arrives today. He walks with a bit of a limp from the nerve pain in his left leg but his smile... His smile makes me forget the horror. His big dumb smile and his opening arms and his, "Mornin Chess darl."

I'm such a fan of second chances now. I've begged and prayed to gods I don't know and when he fumbled those words in the grip of mental trauma, "I love you too," I knew I'd been answered and just had to hang on. Dad will be here shortly. Mum too. But Dad's the excited one. Paul's new bike arrives today.

As I let him fold his big arms around me and draw me inside this little protective bubble where I breathe properly and sleep properly and feel safe, I smile at my little secret. There's a beep of a car horn out the front. Dad's a dick.

His arm is weak, but out of the cast. He uses it to lift my chin and kiss me. The sort of kiss I never imagined dreaming of wanting. Sweet and gentle. Slow, close and intimate. God knows we've worked through the urgent, 'just fuck me already' stage. We might do it again though, it's... Oh, that's Dad and I need to put these thoughts aside.

Dad is tall. Lots of people don't expect that from Chinese men but he stands six foot four, even with his slight embarrassed stoop. Mum is my height and ageless. I watch proudly as Pauly checks her out and frowns sideways at me. His waggling eyebrows make me giggle.

"Tony." My lover says.

"Paul." My Dad answers and catches a surprised Paul in his hug. "Good lord man, you know how to make a fucking first impression. We've been fucking..." His hands open in a 'I don't fucking know' gesture, "Beside ourselves man."

They've been back from their cruise for a few weeks, but this is the first time they've had time to visit and meet the man I love. I hug them both, feeling a bit like a spectator on my own family. I guess I've never died as many times as my lover though. He only has nine lives, I've told him, and if he fucks up two more, I'll take the last one myself.

We help my parents bring bags and things inside. Pauly struggles with the heavy bags but smiles through the process, enjoying my mother's attention. At forty-nine, she's closer to his age than me. A hint of jealously embarrasses me and makes me proud at the same time. I find wine. When all else seems topsy turvy wine will help it work. But my lover tells me, "Thanks Chessie love, but after I take Tony for a lap okay darlin?"

Mum takes her glass and drains it asking, "A grenache? Do Australians even know this exists? 'Chessie' even? Franco will be jealous."

I nod and she pretends to whisper, "Your father is getting old now. Does he have a brother?"

Dad laughs and says, "Still young enough to turn you inside out you cheeky cow."

"True enough." Mum laughs and I love my dumb family.

"Can I have some of your pills please Tony." My lover asks and sends us all into giggles. Then there it is. Toot-toot...

A truck rumbles to a noisy halt outside and we all watch from the doorway as my lover limps down the path and greets the driver. Then a giant black and green thing gets rolled off the back of the truck and gently pushed up the driveway.

"Wouldn't mind one of these big bitches. Sorry ladies." The delivery man nods at us.

"Crashed my last kwaka, hit from behind. Figured I needed a faster one to get away better." My lover grins at his new prize and I glow at his joy.

"ZX14's will launch you alright. Keys hey." He hands Pauly the keys and nods and leaves.

It's big and black with some green and I'm dreaming already of a return trip to little Duranbah and snuggling that stupid lovely man from behind. But this is about him getting back on a bike. Finding courage, and the charade of having to take Dad for a ride as an excuse for it. I watch with my heart in my mouth and tears teetering on my cheeks and Mum rescues me.

"Hmmph... Francesca Mary Chen, where is the kitchen and what am I doing with these greens?" So, we cook, and we drink red wine and let the boys play, just like proper Italian girls do.

I listen with my heart beating hard as he starts the machine and it roars off down the street. He's only got the three lives left. Mine and his and...

Mum and Dad are gone. Paul lifts me but can't carry me yet and frowns embarrassed putting me back down. So, I take his hand and pull him along with me. His intention was clear. His strength is still returning.

"Oh... wait. No go on. I'll be a second." I tell him and he smiles at me and starts undressing. We both know where this is going. It's weird. Well no, it's normal. But by default, we spend all our time alone at home completely naked. Clothes seem like a dumb thing. A dumb thing we reserve for social interaction and a dumb thing we briskly cast aside when we are alone again.

I fetch my phone and bring it at a silly girly skip back down the hall to find him already underneath the sheets waiting for me, smiling, watching, making me feel like a silly supermodel with his stupid appreciative dumb eyes as I remove bits of fluff before joining him. He pulls me close and tells me what I already know. What I feel every moment. What my body understands at a cellular level.

"Love you Chessie."

Then he starts the kissing; as if I even needed convincing of his truth. His big fat dick spears into me. I fucking love it. It's not so long that it bashes against me and hurts. It's SO damn fat that it spreads me and fills me. Best of all its fucking attached to him and I love him like I love breathing. And when it's in me, it's like we are as close as two humans can fucking ever be. I love foreplay. Sometimes, but pff, I love this the most. This unspoken oneness.

He pushes and hugs and surges forward rhythmically and I flow back toward him like it's an old time dance our bodies invented. I've never had sex like this. I have. Just not. God. Not this close. Not this messy connection of souls. Not this surging pressing union of bodies. Not this intimate meal of worlds having been stripped bare and cut and diced and thrown together with everything we've been through and garnished with rude hard fucking. And I'm going to get it over and over as much as I fucking can for the rest of my fucking...

"Argghh Pauly. Fuck. Fuck. Jeez. Shit." I mumble like a dumb bitch as he shoots inside me just like he did that first time after I brought him home and he made this. We made this.

"Look Pauly." I hold out my phone, still pulsing on his slowly lowering mast. Huffing down at him and smiling I say. "Look honey." And I press play and show him my secret.

"It's a girl. Daddy."

I kiss every one of his silly happy tears away and show him how to play it over and over again. When eventually he hands it back, I send it to Aunty Delia, Ma and Pop.