I rested my head on Jackson’s shoulder and closed my eyes, though I didn’t fall asleep. Even though Jackson and Tegan both assured me they’d wake me if the doctor came, I couldn’t help but feel I needed to stay awake. Both Jackson and Tegan seemed so convinced everything would be okay. I wished I shared in their sense of certainty.
Skylar had only just drifted to sleep with her head on Stevie’s shoulder when the doctor finally entered the room. Mom stopped pacing, and I stood immediately. Stevie shook Skylar awake, and she was up and alert in a second. Jackson went to Luke and shook him to consciousness. It seemed he hadn’t been sleeping quite as contentedly as it appeared because he was up in a flash and joined the rest of the family to hear what the doctor had to say.
“How is my husband?” Mom asked directly.
“He’s fine, Mrs. Granger,” Dr. Davenport replied. “The surgery took longer than we anticipated, but things went relatively smooth.”
Mom sighed; her relief visible. Grandpa Granger patted her on the back and said, “I knew Theo would be all right. He’s a Granger. He’s too damn stubborn to die.”
The doctor smiled. “He’s in recovery right now. A nurse will come to get you once he’s settled.”
“Thank you,” Mom said with sweet sincerity as she teared up once again. She shook his hand before he turned and left the room.
Mom motioned Luke, Skylar and I closer. As she had when we first arrived, she pulled the three of us close in a tight embrace. “Everything is going to be okay,” she whispered.
For the first time all night, I actually believed those words.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
When I was finally allowed to see Dad, conscious, after his surgery, it felt like the first time I was able to breathe in fresh oxygen in days. I’d spent hours, waiting and worrying, and hoping for the best while trying to wrap my head around the possibility that Dad could die. Hearing the doctor say he’d come out of surgery was entirely different from seeing it myself. It was one of the few things that, despite the various machines he was hooked to and his pale skin, that actually helped ease my mind. He was alive; that was good enough for me.
Despite the relief I felt, everything was far from calm. Tegan and Jackson left right before I went to see Dad for the first time. They were hesitant to go, but I assured them I’d be okay. They’d stayed with me through the worst of it, which helped immensely. As much as I would have liked the keep them at my side at all times, I knew they had lives of their own; besides, they’d given me the strength—just in knowing they’d be there if I needed either of them—to continue on without them.
After Skylar, Luke and I visited with Dad for a little while—he was very tired and a bit out of it—Mom insisted we go home to get a few hours of a sleep before freshening up and coming back.
“Mom, you should come too,” Skylar tried.
“Oh, no.” Mom shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours,” Skylar argued. “You’re running on fumes.”
“She’s right, Leela,” Grandma Granger agreed, but Mom refused to leave Dad’s side. In the end, we wound up bringing her some clean clothes and food when we went back to the hospital.
Mom dozed on the uncomfortable recliner by Dad’s bed, off and on, but she seemed to sleep more deeply when Dad did. He was in and out of wakefulness, and this was the pattern for most of the weekend.
By Sunday afternoon, though, they had Dad out of bed, trying to get him to walk around. It was almost too difficult to watch him struggle to stand on his own two feet. I was so accustom to seeing Dad as nothing but strong, sturdy and stubborn. Mom had relayed that the doctors said it would be an uphill battle at first, but she’d assured us that Dad would be okay. Even he, in his more lucid moments, murmured encouragements not to worry.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he’d teased on Saturday evening while Mom and I were the only ones in the room.
Instead of the laughter Dad was going for, I’d almost burst into tears. Mom had held me tight to her side, shushing me while Dad said, “Oh, come on, I’m only joking.”
“I don’t think now is the time, Theo,” Mom scolded him.
“Cecilia,” Dad croaked. He patted the hospital bed. “Come up here.”
“I’m not supposed to,” I argued.
He waved his right hand as best he could with an IV attached. “You can blame me if the nurses say anything.”
Sighing, I moved from Mom’s embrace to sit on the side of the bed. Dad lifted a hand, pushing my hair away from my eyes and cupping my face. He waited until I lifted my eyes to meet his. “Silly, I know you’re worried, but I’m okay.” He spoke unusually softly, in a soothing tone I hadn’t heard in years. It took me back to my childhood, when he kissed away the bumps and bruises and tucked me tightly into bed. “We’ll get through this,” he assured me. “You hear?”
I nodded, sniffling back the tears the memories had dislodged. “Yeah, I hear.”
On Monday, none of us wanted to go to school, but, much to our chagrin, the grandparents Granger were staying with us and insisted we go.
“There isn’t any use in all of us just sitting around a hospital getting in everyone’s way,” Grandma Granger said.
In truth, she wasn’t the most sensitive person in the world. She’d also been more of a hindrance over the weekend than any sort of help, so I was relieved when Grandpa Granger commented, “Unless something changes at the hospital this morning and Theo won’t be released from the hospital tomorrow, we’ll be heading back home this afternoon.”
That was easily the best news I’d heard since Dad came through surgery without any complications.
School was a complete blur, but I was aware enough to notice that the teachers were all unusually nice. I wasn’t sure how they knew what happened, but I was grateful that I didn’t get yelled at or have to explain why I kept zoning out in class. Even Miss Barkley, who was usually so stern and stoic, looked sympathetic. I hoped—with only a few weeks left of school—that the teachers wouldn’t choose to cover anything too important over the next few days. On top of the worry was exhaustion. Despite going home to sleep in between visits with Dad, I hadn’t rested well.
I rode to the hospital with Skylar after school, and Luke showed up shortly after. According to Mom, the plan was still for Dad to be released the following day. Because it was obvious Dad was tried—probably from a long day of therapy—and because we’d see him the next afternoon, we didn’t stay at the hospital long.
We tried to coax Mom into coming home with us for dinner and a nap; she was still glued to Dad’s side. I wasn’t sure if it because she didn’t want to leave him alone or because it hadn’t yet settled in that he really did appear to be doing okay. She started to refuse, but it was Dad who spoke up.
“Lee,” he said tiredly, “you need a break.”
“But—”
“You’re exhausted,” Dad went on. “You haven’t had a whole night’s sleep since I’ve been here. That’s not good for you or the baby.”
Pulling the baby card wasn’t something the rest of us had tried thus far. It didn’t seem to work, though, because Mom argued, “I can just rest here.”
Dad sighed, clearly exasperated with Mom’s stubbornness; maybe they were more alike than I thought. “Honey,” he said, “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but you’re getting pretty ripe.”
Mom blushed scarlet, and her eyes slid over my siblings and myself. I could tell she was mortified, probably trying to remember how many people she’d encountered through the day while smelling less than fresh. It wasn’t entirely true; nor was it a lie either. The truth was somewhere in the middle. While Mom didn’t necessarily smell, she had the haggard look of a person who’d been living on the streets and washing in gas station bathrooms to stay clean.
“Fine,” Mom finally conceded. “I’ll go home for a while, but I will be back later tonight.”
Dad didn’t even bother to try
to convince her it wasn’t necessary. He—I guessed—probably knew it was a waste of breath.
As Dad started to drift to sleep, Mom dug some money from her purse, instructing Skylar to stop by and pick up something for dinner on the way home. “I’m going to check in with the nurses, and then I’ll head home myself.”
“If you’re not home in an hour, I’ll come back and pick you up myself,” Luke threatened.
“That’s my boy,” Dad murmured with a sleepy smile. The stern look on Luke’s face faded into a soft, bashful smile, but he looked pleased nonetheless. I realized then that, despite whatever Luke said or how he acted, Dad’s opinion really did matter to him.
On our way down to our cars, we decided on food from Taco Bell for dinner. I rode with Skylar again because I figured she’d need some help handling the food at the drive thru, and when we arrived home, Mom’s car was in the drive and Luke had the table set with drinks.
“Mom’s upstairs,” he informed us as we took our usual seats at the table. “She went to rinse the stink off and crash for a few hours. We’re supposed to save her some food.”
It was somewhat odd to sit together at the table without our parents there, forcing us to do so. Normally, if we were on our own for dinner, we’d just scattered to the four—well, three—winds. Instead of dispersing, we’d chosen to sit together and eat like a family.
We ate mostly in silence, occasionally asking the other to pass another taco or some hot sauce. I took solace in the quiet. The last few days with Grandma and Grandpa Granger hanging around the house had been somewhat overwhelming. They weren’t necessarily loud people, but their presence sometimes felt overbearing because they were somewhat nosy.
It—for me, at least—felt nice to have home to ourselves again. Luke and Skylar had been pretty quiet all weekend, and I thought we were all probably still stuck in a state of quiet contemplation. After all, Dad’s heart attack and subsequent surgery had been a very sobering event.
I’d always been so much in my head, thinking about things too much, but I’d decided there wasn’t necessarily anything wrong with taking a deeper look into things. Sometimes it could be good to reevaluate different aspects of one’s life. I could think about my various relationships with people and reflect on the past and look toward the future, but I realized it was just as important to actually go out and live my life as it was to stop and appreciate things.
I wondered if Luke and Skylar had found themselves doing the same sort of evaluation of their lives. Luke hadn’t so much as mentioned Oxide over the past few days. As much as I enjoyed the reprieved from band talk, it was also somewhat worrisome because his life had been so much about the band as of late.
For her part, Skylar seemed different somehow. It was nothing in what she’d said, but more in how she’d behaved over the last few days. She’d been the voice of reason with Mom several times, and she’d been quick to ask questions about Dad’s condition and answer the phones at home, informing people of the latest status report on Dad when they asked. There was also something calm and comforting in her presence these last few days as well. I felt like I was finally seeing the big sister I’d idealize her as when I was a child.
When Skylar finally broke the silence, Luke and I both looked up, seemingly snapping back into reality. “I think we should try to straighten up the house tonight,” she commented. “Especially the living room because I can’t imagine Dad climbing those stairs anytime soon.”
Luke and I both nodded our agreement.
“I can clean the bathroom down here,” I offered. I knew Luke wouldn’t even know where to start if it were left to him. I’d watched Mom clean plenty enough times—usually while I was chatting her up—to know how she liked things done.
“I can clean the living room if you’ll straight up the kitchen,” Skylar said to Luke.
“Sure,” he shrugged before biting into his third burrito.
I wondered if I should offer to load and start the dishwasher for him, but I realized, suddenly, that I’d seen Luke do it himself several times in the past several months, and there had been no further flooding issues. I smiled faintly in approval.
Skylar nodded absently, biting her lip. She looked as if she had more to say. I watched for a moment, wondering why she was so hesitant when she normally spoke first and thought later. I realized, for the first time, that it was one aspect where we were actually very similar. It was strange I’d never noticed that before.
Finally, she sighed, “There’s something else I’ve been thinking about.”
“What’s that?” Luke wondered. The seriousness amongst us was really starting to show. Normally, Luke would have answered with something along the lines of, “Why, Skylar, I’m shocked. I didn’t know you actually possessed the ability to think.”
She pursed her lips, as if gathering her thoughts into words. “Well, Dad probably won’t be able to go back to work for a while,” she began. “And the baby’s coming in September. Maybe I should look into going to college someplace closer.”
My jaw dropped at the suggestion. I knew how badly she wanted to go to the Art Institute of Chicago. I’d seen the joy written all over her face when she’d finally received her acceptance letter. I couldn’t believe she was actually considering not going.
Skylar seemed to read my shock and added, “It would just be for a year. Then I could transfer to Chicago the following fall.”
As much as I wanted to believe her, I couldn’t help but worry that if she were to be held up in going, she might not ever end up at the Art Institute. I’d heard so many times about that sort of thing happening. I didn’t want that for Skylar.
Before I could articulate any of those thoughts, though, Luke was speaking. “Listen Sky,” he said, without a hint of humor in his tone. “I’m sure things are going to be pretty rough around here for a while, and it’s great that you want to be here to help, but I really can’t see any point in you delaying your plans.”
I nodded my agreement as I chimed in. “Knowing Dad, he’ll be back at work in no time. You know how much he loves the office. Besides, Luke and I will be here to help with the baby.”
Skylar didn’t look convinced. “I know what you’re saying is right, but I can’t help but feel that maybe I should be closer to home just in case.”
“Sky, we’re all worried about Dad,” Luke replied. “But like Silly said, he’ll probably be up and moving in no time. Anyway, isn’t it too soon to make this kind of decision? I mean, you’ve still got like four months until you’re off to Chicago anyway.”
“Three months,” Skylar corrected, but she nodded. “But I guess you have a good point.” It probably galled to her admit as much. “I just don’t want to leave when things are so crazy.”
“Making a rash decision isn’t going to help,” I pointed out. “Besides, Dad was really proud of you for getting into the colleges of your choice, whether they’re what he’d pick or not. And hasn’t he already signed the loan and grant applications?” I arched an eyebrow. “You know Dad doesn’t like doing stuff for no reason.”
Skylar smiled just a little. “That’s very true. I guess you’re both right.” She nodded to herself and then took a deep breath. “I guess we should get cleaning then.”
It took about an hour to get the downstairs whipped into shape. None of us were particularly enthused about cleaning, but if Luke and I were going to fill the void left by Skylar, we needed to start helping out now instead of just after she was away at college.
Tegan and Trista stopped by on their way home from the stables to see if we needed anything. I was happy to inform them that we had pretty much everything handled.
I asked Tegan if she could stay to help me with my History homework. We didn’t share the class at the same time, but we had the same teacher and assignments. Our homework wasn’t too horrible, but I hadn’t been concentrating at all in class. Tegan was far more studious than I was anyway, always taking notes and paying attention during lectures, so her assi
stance was much needed.
Mom woke just after Tegan left for home—Tierney picked her up on her way home from Jesse’s, to find Skylar—Luke and I lying around in the living room, disagreeing on the merits of reality television.
I was sure her plan was to straighten up the house before she went back to the hospital, so she seemed very pleased to find the house—downstairs, at least—neat and tidy.
“Thank you, kids,” she smiled tiredly. “You’ve been really great through all of this.”
“We just wanted to help,” I shrugged.
Mom smiled appreciatively as Skylar asked, “What did the nurses say? Dad still set to come home tomorrow?”
“Yes.” She smiled brilliantly. “He’ll have to take more physical and occupational therapy before he can go back to work, but I think being in familiar surroundings and out of that depressing, sterile room will help quite a bit.”
“I hear that,” Luke muttered. He was sprawled on the couch with his eyes still on the television. For someone who’d lost out on watching How I Met Your Mother, he was awfully interested in Wife Swap, or, at least, the derriere of one of the wives at any rate.
Skylar made a face, noticing Luke’s preoccupation. “What time will Dad get out of the hospital?”
“I’m not sure,” Mom sighed. “I can’t imagine it being too terribly early. I’m going to go there in the morning, nonetheless; I’m sure we’ll have plenty of paperwork to go over before they release him.”
“Do you think he’ll be home by the time we get here?” I asked curiously.
“God willing,” Mom smiled. “Well, since I don’t have to clean after all, I think I’ll take care of a few things upstairs and then head back to the hospital.” She eyed us sternly. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”
“We won’t,” Luke yawned.
True to Luke’s word, he, Skylar and I headed upstairs one at a time shortly after Mom left to be with Dad. I didn’t go to bed right away. I decided to do some reading to help clear my mind. Things had just been so crazy, and reading seemed like the one norm in my life. I’d picked up City of Bones by Cassandra Clare from the public library the week before, but I’d yet to start reading it in the midst of all the chaos. I sprawled out in bed, intending only to read a couple of chapters; instead, I fell asleep reading.
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