by Kellie Bean
Now that's weird. That is weird, right? I'm still second guessing everything. This could just be a persistent telemarketer. Or a debt collector. I don't know.
Without thinking, I move to her text messages. She's got eight unread messages from the same number.
Aunt Grace hasn't clicked on these messages, so I know I can't either. I can't shake the feeling that I'm onto something here. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Grace got that random phone call—Rachel, I think—that she didn't take. She said she just wanted to shower first. Did she ever call her back?
Her outgoing call log doesn't show any number I haven't already found.
So, who is Rachel, and why won't Aunt Grace talk to her?
I force myself to put the phone down. Not my business. It’s not even important until I know what's happening with my aunt.
It's been at least seven minutes since I bothered someone for an update.
My legs are stiff when I make them start working again. It's past one in the morning now, and I haven't slept since seven yesterday morning but my mind is still alert, still ready to jump in and do something if I need to.
"Me again," I say, approaching the nurse's station.
The woman behind the desk looks up, a calm smile on her face. How often does she wear that expression to stop people from freaking out on what could be the worst day of their lives? She must deal with people like me all the time.
"No news yet," she says right away.
I almost walk away, but a question pops out of my mouth before I can.
"Would you tell me if there was? I mean, I'm seventeen. On hospital shows it’s always just like spouses, parents and adult children. She's just my aunt. So if you knew anything, would you tell me?"
She doesn't answer right away, considering my question.
"It's not really up to me. I'm sure her doctors are trying to get ahold of..."
"Who? I've got her phone. No one has even asked me for it. Her parents live in Ireland. My parents are out of state. I've called them already, but they won't be here for a while. Like hours. So who have they been trying to get in touch with?"
"I promise, I'll get you information as soon as I can. If we could see your aunt's phone, I'm sure the doctors would find that helpful."
Yeah, that's really not an answer.
"Thanks." I put the other phone I've been carrying around down on the desk in front of me and step away.
There's nothing else I can say that's going to make a difference here.
There's no part of me that wants to sit down again, so I take off in the opposite direction. Maybe if I just keep moving.
What? She'll be okay.
I keep moving anyway. There's nothing else to do.
Before long, I'm passing quiet rooms filled with sleeping patients. I can't help but look into each one, hoping for a familiar face. I'm not even sure if I'm in the right part of the hospital. In the least helpful move ever, I just stayed put in the waiting room where the paramedics told me to stay.
This hospital isn't big, not at all. Aunt Grace doesn't even go here for her oncologist appointments. Instead, she drives an extra forty-five minutes into the city, since the hospital that serves Fairview and a few neighboring towns is mostly equipped for broken bones and day-to-day disasters.
If I look hard enough, I have to find her eventually. I'm probably not supposed to be back here but until someone stops me, what else am I going to do?
The corridors in this place are like a maze, each one feeding back into the other until I'm sure I've gone in a complete circle, and I'm still only on the main floor.
It's been about ten minutes and I haven't found anything useful. I haven't even found anyone conscious I can ask for help or directions. There's an elevator to my right and an empty nurse's station to my left.
Do I go up? Or try and go back?
I've passed a few doors that were for staff only, unless they've got her back there somewhere. Aunt Grace could be up. There's only three floors here.She's got to be somewhere.
I don't let myself think the ‘unless’ that starts to form in my mind. There's no unless. She's here somewhere.
Rosie!
I don't know what prompts the thought, but there it is. Rosie said she was on her way and I forgot. Again.
There's no missed calls or messages. That doesn’t matter, she’s going to be here.
I need to get back to the waiting room where I started. Which should be a simple matter of backtracking.
The only thing that keeps me from running outright is a fear of waking up the sick, the people who need their rest more than anyone.
The trip back seems to take twice as long, but I make it. The same ugly chairs, the same half-empty vending machine. The same nurse who doesn't give me a second look.
There’s only one change. Rosie.
She's standing with her dad, off near the door, her eyes exploring the small room.
Her eyes find mine and her body visibly relaxes.
"I thought we were in the wrong place at first," she says, moving toward me as I take the last few steps that bring me into her arms. "That nurse seemed to think you were on the world's longest bathroom trip."
"I was looking for Grace. They won't tell me anything. I'm so sorry I wasn't here. I just needed to get up and do something."
"Shh." Rosie reaches up to stroke my hair. "It's okay. It's all going to be okay. Have you called your parents yet?"
I nod against her shoulder, sniffling back the tears that want to fall. Now that someone else is here, it feels safe to let myself go. Just a little.
Rosie tightens her grip, her arms wrapped around me as the tears start to fall.
I don't know how long she holds me. I could stay here forever.
There's only one thing I want more and because of that one, massive thing, I make myself let go.
"What if she's not okay?"
"She has to be. She was getting treatment. Her doctors would have known if she was at risk of..."
"Well obviously something happened. I wasn't in the room. I didn't see what happened. What if I could have helped? The whole reason I stayed home for the weekend was to watch her. Then something happened as soon as I walked away."
"No one was expecting you to stay by her side non-stop. That would have driven her crazy. You did everything right, Reilly. You did. She's going to be okay."
An unexpected breath forces its way up, stuttering through my lungs as my body recovers from the epic cry it just managed.
"Reilly Donovan?" A voice interrupts.
Someone new has entered the waiting room. A man with deep brown skin and thick black hair. He's wearing puke green scrubs and a look of concern as his gaze flips between Rosie and I, like he doesn't know who to talk to.
"That's me."
"Your aunt's awake, she’s asking for you."
Huh?
"Say that again, please," I ask. I'm tired, I need to be sure.
"Your Aunt Grace is awake, she's okay. She's been asking for you. It took some work to revive her, we still have some tests to do, but I'm sure she'd love some company."
"Thank you, thank you!" It takes a second to realize that the words are coming from my mouth. I feel a million worlds away.
Aunt Grace is okay. She's okay!
Rosie reaches over and squeezes my hand.
"I should go..." I say, still half turned around as I lean into her.
"Of course. Go. I'll wait here." She casts a quick look at her dad who is slumped in a chair, watching the TV that's mounted on the wall. I'm not sure if he's just disinterested, or giving us privacy without leaving his daughter alone in a hospital.
"You’re sure?" I don't even know why I ask the question. I'm going to go. I just hate to leave her.
"Yes. Reilly, go. Text me if you need anything at all."
The doctor moves to lead the way to Aunt Grace.
"One second!" I call after him before he can get too far.
There's one more thing I ne
ed to do.
Now.
Who can say for sure that there's going to be another chance?
"Rosie?" Even sleepy and worried, she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. "I keep putting off telling you this because... I don't have a good reason. I...I love you. You deserve to know."
Rosie's expression transforms, going from worried to shocked to grinning.
"Well that's a nice surprise. I've been trying to tell you the same thing. For months."
My head cocks to the side, deciphering what she's saying.
"I love you too," she says after a second. "So much. You're the very best person I know. Now go say hi to Grace. She's waiting for you."
All I want is to kiss her. Sadly, that's going to have to wait.
Rosie loves me. Aunt Grace is okay. I've got everything I need.
Thank you.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A nurse leaves Grace's room as I enter. The doctor that brought me here doesn't follow me in.
"Your mother is relentless," Grace says before I have a chance to even take in that she's really there, alive and okay. "She's been on the phone with the doctors here for the last ten minutes."
I don't care about any of that. Not right now.
I make it to her bedside in seconds. "Can I hug you?" I ask, interrupting whatever she's trying to tell me.
In answer, Grace opens her arms.
"I didn't mean to give you a scare there. I'm so sorry!"
"What happened?" I ask as soon as I pull away. "Is everything okay?"
"As okay as it can be. The cancer is fighting back. My body was already pretty beaten down from this round of treatment, so the doctors think I may have just shut down to try and conserve energy to fight."
"That doesn't sound good."
"None of this is good," she points out. "Thankfully, it's not dire. I'll bounce back from this. You were amazing."
I don’t ever want to relive every moment of that night. I know, somehow, I did what was right, but this is not what Grace needs to hear right now. "I'm just glad you're okay."
"I probably look like a mess."
"Nobody cares."
"So, you're saying I do look like a mess?" She's obviously trying to make me laugh, and I happily oblige.
I still have so many emotions cooped up inside me that they're willing to come out in any form I'll let them.
"No, you're absolutely rocking the hospital gown and bed-head look. No one has ever looked better than you."
"That's what I like to hear. Do you have my phone?"
"I gave it to the doctors. I don't know if that's how they got ahold of Mom, or if she found a way to talk to them. I didn't know if there was anyone else I was supposed to call. Oh, Reagan! Hopefully Mom told her."
"You did good. I'm sure your parents are taking care of everything. All you need to do now is keep me company. Everyone I need is on their way." A frown tugs at her mouth, fading her smile to a sliver of what it was.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"I'd hold back on that until you hear the question. This is totally none of my business. So, uh... Rachel."
From the look in Grace's eyes alone, I know I'm onto something. She bites her lip and takes a breath.
"Yes. Rachel is...was, someone very important to me."
"You were together?"
"I love her more than anything." Love, present tense.
"Then why aren't you talking to her? I was looking through your phone when I was alone in the waiting room, trying to figure out if there was something else I was supposed to be doing. I saw all these missed calls. And there was that at home that you wouldn't take. I didn't know for sure, but after what you told me last night... did she leave because you got sick?"
Aunt Grace's head snaps back like I've slapped her.
"What? No! She would never. She doesn't even know I'm sick."
This doesn't make any sense.
"Maybe try starting at the beginning. I'm not sure I'm following any of this. To be fair, I've had a weird day."
Grace laughs softly. I feel like I've won a small battle, making her a little lighter.
When she doesn't speak right away, I jump back in.
"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. Pretty sure you can have whatever you want today."
"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, Reilly. This might be the biggest.” She pauses. “Let me make something perfectly clear here, Rachel isn't the bad guy in this story. That's me."
I don't know what to say to that, so I keep quiet as she continues.
"Rachel and I have been best friends for years. She was married when we met. I was absolutely bonkers about her. Her marriage didn't work out for reasons that seem obvious now. Even when we were both available, we didn't know how to be together either. Her friends and family only saw the failed marriage, not the reasons for it. My family didn't ask questions."
"At some point though, you were together?"
"We were. We did everything together. When we traveled, we could be ourselves. When we were home, we were inseparable. We were best friends, as all the little old ladies that my mum spends time with would say. Nobody asked too many questions. She was my world. She still is. Which is why I thought I was doing her a favor by leaving."
"This is when you got sick?" I ask, trying to keep all of the pieces together.
Aunt Grace nods.
"At first, I just tried to keep my distance. I made excuses. My parents knew though. I couldn't ask them not to say anything. I felt small and sick and gross. I didn't want her to see me like that. I thought I could beat it quickly and go on with my life but cancer had other plans. Rachel wasn't willing to just stay away no matter how much I begged."
"That's the real reason you came here? You were running away."
"I don't know. Maybe. I told myself it was a hundred different reasons. None of them were good enough. It went from wanting to beat this and pretend it never happened, to worrying I wasn't going to beat it after all and being afraid of making her watch me die. Lately, all I've been able to think about is how I'd feel if she'd pulled this crap with me."
Swallowing hard, I press my lips together in an attempt to keep my composure. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but this isn't it. Still, there's no way for me to understand what she's been feeling through all of this. I hope I'll never be in a position to understand.
"It sounds like you wish you'd done things differently. Why not reach out and try to fix it? Maybe she'd understand." I also think that if nothing else, this woman deserves answers.
I’m t not going to say that out loud. I’m not even sure if I should have said as much as I did. If this has all been going on for months already, it could have waited a little longer. Aunt Grace needs rest, and here I am giving her a hard time.
"It's been too long," Grace tries to explain. "I waited too long. Every moment I wait, it only gets worse that I didn't do something sooner. I've put her through too much. She doesn't deserve that and to deal with the diagnosis thing. It wouldn't be fair. I'd be doing it to make myself feel better."
"That's bullshit!" I slap my hand over my mouth.
It's too late. The words are out.
From the look on Grace's face, she's as surprised to hear them as I am.
"T-that came out w-wrong!" I stammer.
"Reilly, love, nothing you just said was wrong. I'm just feeling sorry for myself.I’m making excuses. I knew it yesterday, I know it today.I'm..."
"None of that," I say. Something about swearing at my cancer stricken aunt in the middle of the night and knowing Rosie loves me back has made me braver. "You're the most fearless woman I know. You're a superhero. You know better than this. Come on!"
One of Grace's eyebrows ticks up.
"Oh? What exactly would you have me do?"
That's a fair point.
I'm on a roll now, so there's no stopping me.
"Give me a minute," I say, moments before
leaving the room.
There's no one waiting outside the room, which doesn't help the idea I'm trying to run with here.
I don't have to go far before finding another nurse's station. I can't tell exactly what the guy behind the desk is supposed to do here. He's dressed in jeans and a loose top, and he'swearing an id badge that's flipped around the long way.
At this point a nurse, doctor, janitor on a break it doesn't matter.
"Hi there." The man looks up when I speak. "My aunt is in room 334, and she would like her phone back please." The man only blinks. "A doctor or someone has it. Any idea where I can find it?"
I'm kind of expecting him to treat me like the nurse downstairs did, just a kid who isn't in a position to ask for anything.
"I can make a call and ask," he says.
I guess I'm on the inside now. I'm a family member of a patient, so it looks like that counts for something.
"Great!" I sound way too perky for the early morning hour. The guy probably just wants me to leave him alone. He makes a big show of picking up the phone on the desk in front of him.
I don't hover. I can trust he wants to help. If nothing happens, I'll just try again.
By the time I make it back to Grace's room, a doctor reaches the door coming from the opposite direction.
"Is everything alright? I got a call to come check in."
Whoops!
Hopefully I didn't pull him away from something more important than phone delivery. Still, this feels pretty important.
"I just wanted to get my aunt's phone back. She's got a few calls she needs to make."
"I've got that here," he says, putting his hand into a large pocket before pulling out Aunt Grace's phone.
"If you talk to your mother, can you tell her that everything is under control here? I'm not sure she believes me."
I rub the back of my neck. I know that feeling.
“Sorry! I will, I promise!”
I take the phone from him, and mumble a quick thank you before he disappears to go save more lives. Or to do more paperwork.
"I've got your phone!" I say, going back into Aunt Grace's room. "Now all you have to do is call."
"It's crazy early in the morning where she is."
"If she's sleeping, she'll call back. If you put this off, it's only going to get harder."