I let out a relieved breath. The epinephrine seemed to be working. Kylie would start to shake soon, but right now it had lessened the constriction in her throat, easing her body’s overreaction to the allergen. Matt continued murmuring to her in an unending stream, soothing sounds, distracting her from the sirens I hoped I wasn’t imagining.
“They’re coming!” Radha said. “I hear them!”
Matt lifted Kylie, and I held on to him, acting as one unit as we carried her toward the door. The EMTs rushed inside, taking over, sliding our girl out from under our arms.
We could go with them, they said. Both of us.
My heart didn’t let go of Kylie.
My arms didn’t let go of Matt.
CHAPTER 15
It almost seemed cruel to walk into the pediatric waiting room in the ER, knowing that Kylie was one of the lucky ones. Thankfully, the parents and caregivers and siblings, hollow-eyed and exhausted, didn’t make eye contact with me. We didn’t know each other’s stories, only that we were in a place that had potential for tragedy at every turn—acknowledging each other made real what we were there for. Everyone stayed in their individual bubbles of worry, a space of safety, however temporary.
My mother sat under an ancient television set blaring an old episode of Blue’s Clues. The harsh overhead light deepened the worry lines on her face and left gray shadows under her eyes. She looked small and vulnerable. I could relate.
“Kylie’s going to be okay,” I said, settling in next to her. “Four to six hours of observation and we can take her home.”
She grabbed my shoulders, and we silently held each other for a moment.
“I hate feeling so helpless,” Mom whispered into my ear. “I hate not being able to fix this, with every cell in my body.”
“I know. It’s terrible.”
We kept hugging, drawing strength from each other.
Until, looking over my shoulder, my mom stiffened and said, “Okay, who the hell are those people?”
Sandy, Micki, Radha, and Bernie stood huddled in the doorway. I suddenly felt like Ally in Wonderland—the walls of the room seemed to shrink, while my body grew larger and larger, puffed up with guilt and embarrassment.
“We had to come,” Micki said as they shuffled in. She glanced at my mother. “I’m sorry, but we couldn’t just go home after that.”
“She’s okay, right?” Sandy asked. “She was already texting with Radha, so no lasting damage?”
That was a tough question to answer. What did he consider lasting? Kylie would be more afraid now. Her body might react even more the next time she was exposed. She might have to discontinue her treatment. We just didn’t know. Like with everything related to modern health issues, there were so many unanswered questions. “She’s going to be fine,” I said, too exhausted to give a detailed answer. “They just need to monitor her as a precaution.”
Mom stood. “I’m Sophie,” she said, reaching a hand toward a flustered Micki. “Ally’s mom. And you are?”
Micki grasped my mom’s hand and stared at it. “I’m, ah . . . a friend. Of Ally’s.”
How far should I let this go?
Mom was smiling, but it was strained. “How do you know her?”
“I was a client, and she does the hair for my bridal shop,” Micki said, her words running together. “We really like her.”
“And Kylie,” Radha said. “We like her a lot too.”
There was a moment of silence heavier than the weighted blanket Kylie used to help her sleep. I desperately wanted to escape to the warm hospital room with Matt and Kylie. When it wasn’t a life-or-death issue, a hospital room could be surprisingly nurturing, a temporary isolation from the outside world. Total isolation sounded pretty good to me at that moment.
Mom crossed her arms over her chest, ex-bartender’s eyes sharpening into knives that could cut through the bullshit.
I took a deep breath. Of all the things I’d learned from my mom, cowardice was not one of them. Kindness was, and keeping this secret was not kind. “Mom, this is Micki Patel. She’s the sister of Cissy Ricelli, my biological mother. Cissy passed away, but I found Micki on that DNA thing, and we’ve hung out a few times.”
“I see,” was all she said.
I touched her arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Really, I am.”
Mom shook my hand away. “And this is your family, Mrs. Patel?”
Introductions were made all around.
“Thank you for your concern for my granddaughter,” Mom said, her manner overpolite.
“I’m really so very sorry,” Bernie said. Her shoulders sunk with exhaustion, and her makeup had smeared and settled into the deep wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. “I didn’t mean it,” she said. “I would never hurt Kylie like that. I am a stupid old woman. But it was chocolate. I’d seen her eat chocolate before. How would I know it would cause a problem?”
“Accidents happen,” I said, resisting the urge to scream, You could have killed her! Anger does no one good, and Bernie would never have consciously hurt Kylie. “Now we’ll all be more careful. And Kylie knows she’s supposed to read labels and ask questions before eating anything.”
“She didn’t want to hurt your feelings by turning you down,” Micki said to Bernie. “She was just trying to be a good girl.”
“Kylie is always a good girl,” Mom said, but her voice sounded far away. Her mind processed most things quickly, but this wasn’t most things.
Another awkward silence, this one worse than the last because now my mother knew what was up. I couldn’t look at her.
“I don’t feel well,” Bernie moaned. “I’m spent, and I don’t like hospitals.”
“We can’t leave yet,” Micki said, with a nervous glance toward my mother. “Radha wants to see Kylie.”
“I’ll take you home,” Mom said.
“Mom, it’s far.”
As I’ve said, my mom is not much of a hugger, but she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me toward her. The force of her grasp was less maternal and more Michael Corleone’s iron grip on his brother Fredo in The Godfather. “I need a little time,” she hissed. “I expect you to understand that.”
“Of course.”
Mom released me and turned to Bernie. “Are you okay with me taking you?”
Bernie nodded. “I’m so tired I’d go home on a horse if I had to.”
“Let me get this young lady home,” Mom said. She took my chin in her hand. “We’ll talk when you get home.”
Bernie cast me one more mournful look. I carefully folded my arms around her fragile shoulders. “Stop worrying,” I whispered in her ear. “She’s fine. No harm done.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” she whispered back. “Especially that sweet girl.” Bernie pulled away from me and shuffled after my mom.
Micki watched them, wringing her hands. “Oh, this isn’t right,” she muttered, running to my mother and tugging on her jacket. “I have to say something. I just do.”
Mom didn’t turn around right away.
I held my breath. Oh, please, universe. Make whatever is about to happen not be apocalyptic.
Mom turned around. Her expression said . . . nothing at all. She could have been staring at a wall.
Again, the words spilled out of Micki so fast, I was pretty certain she wasn’t totally in control of what was coming out. “I need to thank you for raising Ally. My sister couldn’t, and you’ve obviously done a very good job, because Ally has a goodness in her that I’m pretty sure she didn’t get from my side of the family, so it must have been what you taught her, and she was such a sweet baby, so maybe it was always in her, but with you watching her—”
Mom put her hand up. “I wasn’t babysitting,” was all she said, and then left Micki standing in the middle of the room, her mouth agape.
Sandy went over and hugged her to him. “She’s in shock,” he said. “We should have been the ones to take Bernie home. This is a family matter.”
“But we’re
family,” Micki said. Tears spilled over her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
“You weren’t,” Radha said, a murderous look in her eye. “She was mean to you, and that wasn’t right.”
“It’s complicated, hon,” Aunt Micki said, swiping at her cheeks.
“Karma will get her,” Radha said. “Right, Dad?”
“She did nothing wrong,” Sandy said. “I know you’re defending your mother, but we shouldn’t force someone to think about things she’d rather not think about.” This was the first time I’d seen Sandy frown. “This whole night, just wasn’t . . . right.”
“Can we just see Kylie now?” Radha asked, still disgruntled. “I’d really like to.”
Kylie was nearly asleep, her limbs loose, eyes shuttered. “Hi,” she squeaked.
Matt stood quickly, effectively blocking us from Kylie’s bed. “She should rest.”
“I promise we won’t be more than a minute,” Sandy said. He introduced his family to Matt, while Micki slipped by them, kissing Kylie while Radha ruffled her hair.
The scene felt warm and loving, and worked to ease the fear that had gripped my heart since I thrust the Epi into Kylie’s thigh. What if it hadn’t worked? What if it was worse the next time? This didn’t feel like the end of worry. It felt like the beginning of a deeper, more serious kind of terror.
“We were worried,” Radha said. “You could have, like, died.”
“Radha,” Micki said sharply.
“Maybe we should clear the room out so Kylie can sleep,” Matt said, gritting his teeth. I loved Radha, but I felt the same—the last thing we needed was Kylie obsessing about a near-death experience.
Goodbyes were said. Micki asked that I walk them out.
“We’ve really messed things up,” she said as we got to the elevator.
“No, you didn’t. I made this mess.”
She hugged me. “Will Kylie be able to complete the treatment?”
“I honestly don’t know. Part of me hopes so, and part of me is so afraid for her to do it. The risk is intensified now.” I’d texted Dr. Indigo as soon as Kylie had stabilized. Come tomorrow at noon, was all she said.
The elevator door opened. Radha and Sandy kissed me quickly and hopped in.
Micki hugged me again, tighter this time. I felt a tug, and she shoved something in my pocket. “Take this and shut up about it.”
She was gone before I could protest.
The check was for seven thousand dollars.
On the memorandum line she’d written: For 38 years of missed Christmas presents.
We got home at three in the morning. Matt carried Kylie to her bed, and we tucked her in with a minimum of fuss. My mom, curiously enough, wasn’t home yet. This unsettled me. Apologies should be made quickly, before unchecked anger grows to unmanageable fury.
“Do you want some tea or something?” I said. “I’m putting the kettle on for myself.”
Matt rubbed at his face, as though he could wipe away the exhaustion. “Some coffee would be great. You’ve still got that press, right?”
“You’ll be up all night if you drink coffee. You get that heart pounding thing.”
“I know, but I have to go to work tomorrow. Mandatory faculty meeting at seven a.m. I might as well stay up.”
Everything about that sounded difficult. “I’m taking Kylie to Dr. Indigo tomorrow. I thought you might want to come with.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I really did want him there. This would be an important appointment. Would we continue the treatment or give up? Was there an alternate plan? It was one thing to have our hopes crushed, and another to have them simply deferred. What was that poem about a dream deferred? Wasn’t that awful too?
“I’ve got mandatory training at school,” Matt said, his voice weary. “They’re changing the grading platform again.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I busied myself in the kitchen, leaving the light dim. The glaring overheads of the emergency room had dried out my eyes, and I wanted them to rest, even if my body couldn’t. Matt checked his phone, texted someone, and then shut it off.
“Cassie?” I said.
“What?” He smiled slightly, sheepish. “She’s a compassionate person, Ally, and so she was worried. She wanted to know how Kylie was doing, that’s all.”
Sometimes feelings are so undefinable, you go with the first recognizable one you can grasp. This one I managed to hook was sadness. I poured his coffee, added a dash of milk like he preferred. I watched my tea steep, wondering how we’d gotten to this point.
“I thought happiness was something that just happened, and you went along for the ride,” Matt said softly. “We met, we got married, had Kylie. I didn’t think I controlled any of that, it was just life being good to me.”
“And now?”
“I see happiness for what it is. A goal. And people have to work toward goals. Cassie might be great for me, or she might not, but I’m going to work to find out.”
Matt had always been contemplative and analytical. I knew that part of him, and I knew it well. What I hadn’t realized was how much I was going to miss it.
“She did a good job tonight,” I said, offering my olive branch.
“You did a better one.”
“I couldn’t answer half the questions. You know that’s not true.”
“I didn’t mean during the debate. You got that Epi in Kylie faster than it took for me to blink. We knew this day could come, but I had no idea how intense it would be. Our little girl.” His voice broke. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so frightened in my entire life.”
I put my hand over his before I could overthink it. “She’s okay,” I said, tears rasping my voice. “She’s okay.”
“Who would have imagined that an old lady offering a piece of chocolate to our kid would result in a life-or-death situation?” He slid his hand out from under mine, and curled his palms around his coffee mug. “I would give anything to eliminate the risks in Kylie’s life. For the most part, I can’t do that. I can only control the things I can control. Ally, I don’t want Dr. Indigo to continue with the desensitization treatment. The exposure could prompt an even worse reaction. What if the EpiPen doesn’t work? What if we don’t make it to the hospital in time?”
Those thoughts haunted my every minute. Matt had a point, but I couldn’t think straight enough to make a definitive decision. I was so tired I felt like every process in my body had slowed, my heart and brain especially, the two things I needed to evaluate the situation with any clarity.
“Let’s see what Dr. Indigo says.”
“Her interests are not necessarily ours.” Matt stood and rinsed out his mug. “I want you to promise me you won’t proceed. You don’t always think things through before you act. Promise me, Ally.”
“I can’t promise anything. I need to talk to the doctor first.”
“She’s not Kylie’s mother.”
“Neither are you.”
CHAPTER 16
“Well, this is pretty fancy-pants. You’re moving up in the world, Miss Kylie!”
I needed a voice of reason, so I ended up bringing Heather to our doctor’s appointment. I figured she was smart, she loved Kylie, and she wasn’t afraid to tell me no. She’d also insisted when I’d told her about the hospital visit.
“Maybe I’ll meet a rich doctor,” she continued, eyeballing the ritzy greystone.
“I don’t want to burst your bubble—”
“You’re my friend. You’re supposed to protect my bubble.”
I laughed. “Okay. I’ll let it pop naturally.”
Heather snorted. “That’s what he said.”
I glanced at Kylie in the back seat, but she was staring out the window, her face drawn and pale. “You okay, little warrior?”
“I guess. How long do we have to stay here?”
“As long as it takes.”
“It didn’t work, Mom. Why do we even have to come back?”
“I don’t give up, and neither do you. Let’s see what Dr. Indigo has to say.”
Kylie sighed. “She’ll say I didn’t calm the dog.”
“Just because you couldn’t calm it yesterday doesn’t mean you can’t ever calm it.”
“Never gonna happen.”
Heather nudged me. “Let’s go in and see if the dog is even around. Maybe you don’t have to calm it anymore. Maybe you just have to calm the cat. And that would be a whole lot easier, right? Cats are totally chill anyway.”
Kylie wasn’t taking the bait. “I’m missing play practice today.”
“I already texted Mrs. Loftus,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Kylie didn’t respond. Instead, she got out of the car and slammed the door. I got it. The anger that comes from not being able to trust your own body.
The gorgeous receptionist didn’t bother walking us upstairs. We swept by her, past the stylish but perpetually empty offices, onto the cold landing outside Dr. Indigo’s door. I kicked the door open, and we were immediately confronted by a cloud of incense.
“Well, I’ve got to say, I’m disappointed,” Heather said. “This looks like my first apartment after high school.”
“Kylie?” Dr. Indigo appeared. She wore a long navy-blue knit dress with a black collar and thick purple belt at the waist. She looked like a bruise.
Then Dr. Indigo did something that surprised me—she knelt down, grabbed Kylie, and held her tightly.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, showing more emotion than I thought possible.
“I couldn’t calm the dog,” Kylie murmured into her shoulder. “I tried, but I was so surprised. My throat felt all swollen, and I got scared.”
Dr. Indigo leaned back on her heels. “That’s a completely normal response. Your mom calmed the dog temporarily with the Epi. The treatment you’re doing is teaching your body to calm it naturally.” She looked up at me. “We are continuing treatment, aren’t we? This is a stumbling block, not a wall. We can start up again in a few weeks. This isn’t the end. Not even close.”
The Other Family Page 18