“He’sgoing to be okay.”
“Iknow.”
Wereached the door at the end of the hall, and my heart lit with the thought ofturning around and heading back. But Jon stopped and squeezed my shoulder. Hissmile was kind but hard and insistent.
“You’regoing to have plenty of time to be with him,” he said gently. “Not everybody isgiven that chance, Molly. Try not to waste it.”
***
I enteredChad’s room quietly. It was dark, and at first glance, I thought he had fallenasleep. But he shifted and tried to reach behind his head to grab the pillow.When the IV line snagged on the bedrail, he grunted angrily and winced from thepain.
“Fuckin’thing,” he muttered through his frustration.
“Youshouldn’t bemovin’ that arm.” I hurried to his side.“What doyaneed me to do?”
“God,you’ve done enough.” My eyes met his and I glaringly held his stare. Hisstubbornness relented with a defeated sigh. “I justwannafluff this damn pillow. It’s likelayin’ on a plasticbag.”
Isniffed a laugh and told him to lift his head. I did the best I could with thething, and when he laid his head back down, he nodded with mild satisfaction.“I’ll see if the guys can bring your pillow from the bus,” I offered, and hegave me a thumbs up. Then, I asked, “So, what are wedoin’tonight?”
Helifted a questioning brow. “We?”
“Yeah.We.”
Hechuckled gruffly. “I didn’t think you werestayin’.”
Ipulled a chair up to the side of his bed, dropped into it, and kicked mysandals off. “I’m notleavin’ this room until you’reouttahere.” I put my feet up on the bed and caught hisstaring eyes. “What?” I asked with a shrug.
“Youhate hospitals.”
“Huh?”
“Whenwe were like, eight orsomethin’, you broke yourankle falling out of a tree at my parents’ place, remember? We had to take youdown to the hospital and you cried about how freaky it was to be there.”
“Oh,yeah,” I recalled, nodding. “I remember the part aboutbreakin’my ankle, but I don’t remember the breakdown in the ER.”
Chadchuckled gently. “Oh, yeah. You completely lost it.”
Recollectionsettled in, and I nodded slowly with the memory. “Oh, wait … That’s right. Youlet me play yourGameboy, to cheer me up.”
“Yep.And instead ofmakin’ your own save file inZelda, you went ahead and finishedmine.” He grunted a laugh. “You were so proud ofyourself,I couldn’t even be pissed.”
Ihummed a gentle reply and turned my gaze to the TV, hanging in the corner of theroom. The silence was tense. Thousands of things that could’ve been said jumpedthrough my mind, each one battling for my attention, and I struggled to findjust the right way to say them all. But was there ever a right way to tellsomeone they should break up with their girlfriend to be with you? What rightdid I have to make those kinds of demands?
So,instead, I kept my mouth shut, as we watched an episode ofFriends. But I don’t think either of us were really payingattention. Even as the characters cracked their jokes, our faces remained stonyand unmoving. Maybe we’d lost our senses of humor. Maybe we just had too muchon our minds.
***
Sleepingin his room was next to impossible. For both of us.
Thenight nurse came in every few hours to check up on Chad. She’d smile andapologize for waking us up before going about her business, inputtinginformation into her carted computer and attaching a new bag of saline to hisIV.
Worsethan her brief interruptionswastrying to sleep inthe chair. It didn’t recline, and even with my feet kicked up on the edge ofhis bed, making any attempt to sleep sitting upright was difficult. Especiallywhen his parents arrived.
“Mypoor baby,” Connie whispered a little too loudly upon entering the room, wakingme up immediately. “Oh, my God, Mark. Will you just look at him?”
Myeyes opened to Chad’s father as he walked into the North Carolina hospital roomin his cowboy boots and hat. The bolo tie around his neck was a real nice touchas well.
Iglanced over at Chad. He somehow stayed asleep, despite the disruption. My eyesjumped to the empty bag of fluids attached to the IV line and I stood upwithout warning to call for a nurse.
