Nan’s arm came around my neck. “Come here.”
I turned and sobbed into her chest.
She rubbed my back. “He needs us, Skye. And Dr. Branson will take care of him.”
I blinked several times to clear my vision. “Georgia’s dad is working today?” I pushed out a relieved breath, as though Georgia’s dad had a miracle up his sleeve. He didn’t, but he knew my dad and what he was going through, and that comforted me.
Nan gave me a sad smile. The whites around her brown eyes were red. “Let’s go in.” She sounded hesitant.
Isaac was fiddling with Dad’s IV when Nan and I entered. As Dad lay unconscious, I couldn’t help but think he was in peace for the first time in over a year.
“His fever has dropped slightly. So that’s a good sign,” Isaac said.
I wasn’t sure if I agreed, but I would take anything I could get and celebrate the small wins, the small moments, even if the outcome was still the same.
The room didn’t have much except the essentials, such as boxes of gloves in holders on one wall, a monitor above Dad’s bed that read his vital signs, and a rolling cart with a keyboard and computer. Underneath that were syringes and other medical supplies needed for the doctors and nurses to do their jobs.
I shuffled up to Dad’s bedside on shaky legs, with Nan right on my heels.
“The tests aren’t back yet, but Dr. Branson is ninety-nine percent sure it’s pneumonia,” Nan said.
“He should be in shortly,” Isaac said as he finished adjusting the drip on Dad’s IV.
I found Dad’s clammy hand and held it, careful not to touch the pulse oximeter on his finger. “Is the pneumonia from him choking last night?”
“I couldn’t say,” Isaac said. “Aspiration pneumonia does come on rather rapidly, though, and is common in ALS patients.”
He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. I’d remembered Dad’s neurologist saying that very thing, which was why I always freaked out when Dad choked.
I stared at him through a cloud of tears, trying not to think the worst. “Can I be alone with him?”
I loved Nan to death, but I wanted time alone with my dad. Even if he wasn’t lucid, maybe he could hear me.
Nan patted my arm. “Take your time. I’m going to get coffee, and I need to call the hospice people back.”
My heart rate sped. Hospice was coming, so he probably only had a few months left.
Nan brushed a stray hair out of my eye. “It doesn’t mean he’s going to die in the next month. But we need to prepare, and a nurse will come in once or twice a week to monitor your dad’s progress and keep him comfortable.”
Even though I knew she was right, it seemed that we were hammering the final nail into Dad’s coffin. “I know.” I worried my trembling bottom lip. I wanted my dad around longer.
She pinned me with a motherly look, lifting her chin. “He needs us to be strong.”
I wasn’t sure if I could be. But she was right. If Dad—no, scratch that. When Dad woke up, I wanted him to see us happy.
Once Nan was gone and Isaac was no longer in the room, I mindlessly stared out the glass doors, digging deep for strength and courage. A group of nurses laughed at something Isaac was saying at their circular station, which seemed to be where the party was. Envy washed over me. I wanted to laugh as though I didn’t have a care in the world.
A tall man ambled toward the group, and it took me a second to realize it was Dr. Branson. He said something to the nurses before they broke up, scurrying to get back to work. Dr. Branson spoke with Isaac before he flicked his blond head of hair toward me.
Isaac’s lips moved as he responded to Dr. Branson. Georgia’s dad didn’t look pleased as the features around his green eyes wrinkled. Then he nodded to Isaac as he strutted my way.
I prepared for the bad news I was sure Dr. Branson would deliver. He entered with his hands tucked into his white coat pockets, stoic and professional instead of the casual and relaxed vibe he usually wore when I was at Georgia’s house.
Before he said anything, I was in his arms as though he could save Dad and me. “Please tell me he’ll come out of this.”
He grasped the sides of my arms, his expression soft. “I can’t, honey.”
I knew he couldn’t, but I wanted hope. I needed hope. I needed something to take away the grief burning a hole in my chest.
“Skyler, we’ll do everything we can.”
I could hear the “but” in his voice, and he didn’t have to say anything else.
“Can Georgia see my dad?” The hospital rules said only close family was allowed in, but Georgia was family. Besides, if anyone could break the rules, it was Dr. Branson. He was head of the ER.
“Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s see how your dad responds to meds. And we’re about to run some scans on his lungs. Until then, no other visitors.”
“She doesn’t know about Dad,” I said. “I don’t have my phone, either.”
“I’ll tell her. I’ll be back after I have the results of the scan.”
The minute he was gone, I cried hard. The heaviness on my heart was too much. As I had a ton of times before, I checked his chest to make sure he was still breathing, although the monitor behind his bed said he was.
Holding Dad’s hand, I bowed my head. “God, if you’re listening, could you give my dad a little more time with me? And Dad, please pull through. I want a chance to tell you more about Colton. I want to tell you that I love you more than you know. I want to see you smile, to see your blue eyes light up when we reminisce about Mom.” I sighed, trying so hard not to collapse with grief, which was an impossible feat.
Whatever happened next was in God’s hands.
27
Nine solid days of hell had passed since Dad had been rushed to the hospital. I’d barely eaten or slept, and I definitely hadn’t gone to school. I wasn’t leaving Dad’s side even if truant officers tried to pry me away.
Nan had insisted I go home, have a shower, and get a good night’s sleep. I almost laughed in her face. Home was the last place I wanted to be. Too many memories, and Dad wasn’t there.
I couldn’t leave the hospital. I had to be close and able to react at a moment’s notice, especially since Dad had slipped into a coma. He’d had several ups and downs with his fever spiking, then dropping. The scan of his lungs showed pneumonia, which wasn’t surprising. What was, though, was the fact that meds weren’t working to clear it up.
A pine scent mixed with some other type of cleaning solution burned my nostrils as I passed an open door to a restroom on the first floor. The smell seemed to jar my brain and open my eyes just before I bumped into a person in a wheelchair.
I skirted around the old man. “I’m so sorry.”
The gray-haired man gave me an easygoing grin as though people ran into him all the time. I was sure they did. When Dad had gone out in public in his wheelchair, people didn’t pay an ounce of attention to where they were going and often stumbled or fell into him.
I continued down the hall, passing medical personnel. I was on my way to meet Georgia. I hadn’t seen her since the day Dad had been rushed in, and with him in ICU, there were definitely no visitors other than Nan and me. No matter how much pull Dr. Branson had in the ER, he didn’t have a say in the ICU.
I rounded the corner and found Georgia. It was easy, considering that the lobby was empty, save for Georgia and a man in a business suit who was pacing near the entrance with his phone to his ear.
She pushed off the wall, and even though sadness was stamped on her pretty face, I was stoked to see her.
We met in the middle and embraced like lovers who hadn’t seen each other in years.
She cried. I cried.
After a long minute, she guided me to a bank of empty chairs along the wall.
“You look great,” I said.
She was dressed in black skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a knit top that hugged her curves.
She tucked a blond curl
behind her ear. “Given what you’re going through, you look good too.”
I smiled weakly. I didn’t think I did. But Nan had brought clean clothes. I’d been able to freshen up in one of the restrooms up on the ICU floor. That day, I was wearing an old pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. They kept the ICU rather cold for some reason.
“I begged my dad to let me see your dad,” she said. “He told me this morning he would get me up to ICU.”
“Really? Dad isn’t awake, but he might be able to hear your voice.” I believed he could hear mine. Anytime I talked to him, I swore the corners of his mouth turned up a tick. Deep down, I knew I was imagining that, but I had to believe he was listening.
She frowned. “Everyone at school is asking about you. Mia wanted to come, but she has a game tonight, and I told her she couldn’t see your dad even if she did.”
I picked at a finger. My nails were gone. I’d bitten each one down to the nub. “Do you know if Colton is still in town?” I swallowed before holding my breath.
I hadn’t heard from him since he’d brought me to the hospital. I had, however, thought about him a lot and about what he’d said: I want to say so many things. But I know it’s not the time. Just know I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.
His last line had found a home in the forefront of my mind as I wondered if he had left after all. Nan had told me the Caldwell house seemed quiet and dark, which she’d found odd. I did too. Colton had planned to stay with a friend in Virginia, but maybe he and his parents had decided to get away as a family. For Colton’s sake, I hoped he could work out his differences with his dad. He didn’t need to shoulder the blame for his brother’s death. Regardless, as much as I would have loved to see Colton, Dad came first.
Georgia placed her hand on my thigh. “Grady tried calling him several times with no luck.”
I jerked my head up. “You don’t think anything happened to him?” Oh God. I couldn’t lose another person I loved.
“I don’t think so. I went by his house before I came here. No answer. There were no cars in the driveway, either. I peeked in the windows of their garage, too, and it was empty. If you ask me, I think they left town.”
Relief coursed through me, warming my veins. “I told him I loved him.”
She gasped. “For real? And?”
I licked my chapped lips. “Not sure. He told me we would talk when I have more time. I haven’t been home. So I don’t know.”
She puckered her mouth like she was about to whistle. “Wow. I mean, I know he’s your crush, but to tell him… Now, it’s real.”
I giggled. “For sure.”
“He’ll surface,” she said with confidence.
Whether he did or not, I couldn’t worry about him.
My phone pinged. I fumbled to get it out of the tight pocket of my yoga pants.
A text from Nan: Please come up now!
I vaulted off the chair as the blood drained from me.
“What is it?” Georgia’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
“It’s Dad. I’ve got to go.”
“I’m coming with, whether or not I’m allowed.”
I wasn’t going to stop her. I could use her support. Even though she was as emotional as I was, she had a way of steadying me.
Once at the elevator, Georgia stabbed the up button hard and several times. It felt like centuries passed before the door opened, and even longer when we were inside and the car seemed to move at a snail’s pace.
I leaned against the wall. “Dad’s gone,” I muttered more to myself. I could almost feel it in my bones. I might be crazy, but that sense of loss was all-consuming.
“You don’t know that,” Georgia fired back. “Maybe he woke up.”
A small part of me rejoiced at that thought, praying she was right. I’d told Dad everything I could possibly think of over the last nine days, not certain he’d heard me. So getting that one last chance to see his blue eyes and tell him I loved him would give me a sense of closure. Despite the time I’d had to prepare for this moment, I wasn’t ready.
Maybe he woke up. That was my mantra, and the only thing I focused on as Georgia and I finally exited the elevator.
She grasped my hand as we entered ICU. “Think positively.”
Easier said than done, but I took her advice just the same. I lifted my chin and rolled back my shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
The room tilted on its axis when I spotted Nan crying outside Dad’s room. Normally that wouldn’t freak me out, since she and I had been shedding enough tears to fill several oceans since Dad had been admitted. But she squatted down with her face in her hands, and I knew instantly that he was gone.
Surprisingly, I didn’t cry, not even when I saw how peaceful he looked, as though he’d found freedom from that stupid disease. I made it to his bedside without collapsing and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Daddy. I hope heaven is everything you dreamed it to be and that you see Mom. I hope you can walk and talk again and tell all your friends in heaven jokes until they’re laughing so hard they’re crying. Embrace peace. Hug Mom for me and know I will be fine. I’ll be thinking of you every day for the rest of my life.”
Georgia sobbed, the sound tearing out my soul. “I’m sorry.” She stood on the other side of the bed. “I love you, Mr. Lawson. You were always like a second dad to me.”
Nan cried in the background.
I went over to console Nan—or maybe it was my way of consoling myself. Either way, we needed each other.
Georgia joined us, and the three of us formed a group hug.
Nan said a prayer. Then I gave Dad one last glance and blew him a kiss.
I wasn’t sure if I was prepared for tomorrow or the next day or even the next hour. I wasn’t even sure I could walk into my house without Dad being there. But I had to believe I would get through it. I had to believe that everything in life happened for a reason—a good reason.
For the time being, I had to hold on to that thought because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t make it through the night.
28
I hated to leave the hospital. I felt as though I was leaving my entire world behind. I was a zombie as Nan drove through the town I’d grown up in, one that appeared foreign to me. Memories of Mom, Dad, and me eating at many of the restaurants we passed pricked my psyche. A smile broke out as one memory in particular bombarded me.
We’d been eating at my favorite Chinese restaurant, and Dad decided to tell one of many jokes he had in his arsenal. It wasn’t so much the joke I remembered as how animated he’d been when he told it and how he’d laughed harder at his jokes than Mom and me.
Reality sped by outside as people went about their days as if they didn’t have a care in the world. I wanted to experience that again, the freedom I’d had when Mom and Dad were alive. I was desperate to wake up the next day and feel happy, as though everything had been just a nightmare. I wanted to run downstairs and watch Dad make his famous blueberry pancakes or talk to him about baseball or football or whatever the sport was for that season.
Stop torturing yourself, Skyler.
I leaned my head against the passenger window. “Mom’s death hit me hard,” I muttered. “But why do I feel like Dad’s is worse?”
Nan patted my leg, keeping her attention on the streets ahead. “Oh, sweetie. You’ve lost two parents. No child should lose both at such a young age. I love you, Skye. We’ll get through this.”
I sure hoped she was right because at the moment, I felt like it would take years before I would feel joy in my soul. “I love you too. I’m glad you’re here with me and for me.” I loved Georgia, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to live with her.
The bright lights of town dissolved into a dimly lit street as Nan navigated through our neighborhood.
“Can you keep driving?” I asked.
She slowed about three houses from ours. “I could, but you need rest.”
“I can’t sleep. I can’t go into the
house, either.” I rubbed my chest, hoping the fire burning a hole in my lungs would simmer.
“You need to try, Skyler. Also, we need to talk.”
I was certain she wanted to talk about Dad’s funeral, but the topic became a blip on my radar screen when I saw who was sitting on our porch.
Nan jerked her head toward me. “Does he know?”
“Not sure.” Georgia had told me before we left the hospital that she would let Mia know, which meant Mia would tell Grady. Maybe Grady had finally been able to connect with Colton.
“He looks like he needs a shoulder to cry on,” Nan said as a matter of fact.
Our porch light cast a glow, highlighting Colton’s forlorn expression. If my heart wasn’t broken, it would’ve cracked in several places for him. I wondered what had changed so drastically since he’d taken me to the hospital. He’d been so relaxed that day in the school’s parking lot.
The car came to a stop in our driveway, and Nan left the engine running. “I just remembered we don’t have anything to eat in the house. Why don’t I run and get some Chinese?”
I didn’t know if she was trying to give me some time alone with Colton or not. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the sudden dark thought that had gripped my brain. “Did something happen to his parents? You said you hadn’t seen them all week.” She’d been home a few times while I’d stayed at the hospital.
“I don’t know.”
Given that Colton’s dad drank or was drunk more times than not, I wondered if something had happened to his dad.
My hand was primed to open the car door, but my limbs were locked. I couldn’t take any more bad news. I couldn’t bear to see Colton looking like he’d lost his best friend.
“Skyler,” Nan said. “My mom once told me that emotional pain can heal faster when you help another who is suffering.” She glanced out her window, then back to me. “That boy, he’s about to explode. So find a way to channel your pain to help him. Maybe in the end, you two will help each other.”
Crazy For You Page 17