“IT’S WHAT, CHARLEY?” John yells impatiently. He’s suddenly angry. My eyes flood with tears as all eyes are on me, even Dr. Hoffwell’s.
“It’s terminal,” I manage to choke out.
John’s face turns ghostly white. “What? I can’t believe this,” he whispers. No one else speaks. My mother is crying quietly with her hand on John’s shoulder. Grey’s expression is pained but even he is speechless. Only Ben speaks as he addresses Dr. Hoffwell, “Is she awake? Does she need surgery?”
“She’s sedated to keep her comfortable. We have her on several medications to help increase her heart function and decrease her fluid levels. I don’t feel that surgery is necessary; we caught it pretty early. For now, we just wait and give the drugs time to work in her favor.”
“Can I see her?” John asks.
“She’s being moved to the ICU as we speak. Just give the nurses about twenty minutes and then you can see her, but only one visitor at a time.”
“Thank you, doctor,” John says.
“Of course,” Dr. Hoffwell says and then walks back through the doors to the emergency room.
“Where are Olivia and Max?” I ask, desperate to protect them from all of this.
“They’re at Kristin’s next door,” my mother answers. “They didn’t see Gwen, thank God, but they saw the ambulance. They’re probably scared, but I just had to come. We didn’t know what was wrong. I found her in the foyer right after you left.” My mother brings her hand to her mouth in despair, tears streak her eyes and cheeks. “She was just lying there, face down on the tile. I tried to wake her and then I screamed for John.”
“It’s okay, Mom. You did the best you could,” I say. But my heart is breaking. I did this. She looked so awful today, she looked so tired and then we fought. I did this.
John looks at me with tears in his eyes, “How could she not tell me, Charley? How could YOU not tell me?” And then he steps toward me and grabs me by the arms, his fingers pressing into my flesh. His face screams in agony and he shakes me in his grasp and yells, “How long? How long has this been going on?”
I flinch and whisper, “She was diagnosed over two months ago.” He releases me and his shoulders visibly fall as if all the fight has left him in a rush, his face drawn in defeat. “I’m sorry John. It wasn’t my place to tell you.” But now when I think of the fact that we almost lost Gwen today, maybe I should have told John. Maybe letting Gwen keep this from him was the wrong thing to do. Maybe I was blinded by the bond that Gwen and I shared because of this. It was just her and I against the world, just like it used to be. Is that why I didn’t push her harder to tell John? It was dangerous to not tell John, completely reckless. And pushing her today, arguing with her was selfish. I should have known better.
Too many emotions are boiling inside and the urge to flee overwhelms me. I make my way through the waiting room, through the sliding glass doors and step outside to stand in the cold.
“Are you okay?” I hear Ben’s voice behind me.
“No. I’m not okay. I’m a horrible person. Gwen could have died today and it’s all my fault,” I cry.
I turn to face him. “What is wrong with me?”
Ben pulls me into his arms. I go willingly.
“Charley, this isn’t your fault. Gwen’s heart has been working too hard for a while now. And it’s been failing because of her cancer treatment. Her body is reacting to the medication. This is not your fault. And for the record, people fight all the time. It doesn’t mean that you love her any less. She’s going to be okay, you’ll see.”
I bury my face in Ben’s warm chest and shed tears of guilt and despair that I can no longer hold inside, knowing that despite Ben’s reassuring words, Gwen’s never going to be okay again.
After a few moments, I pull away and wipe my eyes. And when I look up, I see Grey watching us through the glass hospital doors.
Ben follows my gaze and says, “Is that him?”
“Yep.”
“He looks pissed. You better go talk to him.”
I look at Ben.
“And say what, exactly?”
“I don’t know. That’s between the two of you. Listen, I’m going to go see a friend who’s on shift here today, see if I can hang at his place for a while.” He holds my car keys out for me and I take them from his hand. “I can drive you back to Seaport when you’re ready. That is, if you want me to. Otherwise I’ll find my own way home. Just call me if you need anything, okay?” He rubs his hand down my back.
I nod. “Okay. Thanks Ben, for everything.”
“Anytime. Good luck,” he says and then disappears inside. A moment later I walk inside and approach Grey.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” he replies, his hands are in his pockets as he looks down at me. “I’m sorry about today. I shouldn’t have come. I didn’t realize that you were with someone else.” He looks so sad, so heartbroken.
“Grey. It’s not what it looks like. That’s Ben. He’s an old friend.”
“It’s none of my business, Charley.”
“He’s just a friend,” I say firmly. Hours ago I would have used Ben to push Grey away. But everything has changed with so much pain already swirling around us. I can’t take the look in Grey’s eyes. I can’t cause any more pain today. “Thanks for coming, for being here for John,” I say.
He runs his hand through his hair and lets out a loud sigh. “Charley, I came for you. I’m here for you. I wish you would’ve told me. I wish you would’ve trusted me.”
“It wasn’t my secret to tell. And... Grey?” I pause, looking him straight in the face to drive my point home. “I can’t be the reason you’re here. Please, let it go. There’s nothing between us anymore.” I beg with my eyes, beg for him to let me go, to make this easy.
“Charley.” He says only my name and then runs his hand through his hair again. He leans down and places his hands on my arms. I look up into his eyes, a small flicker of warmth hitting me in the gut, and before I can clamp it down, he says, “I’m in love with you. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He looks at me expectantly and I suddenly can’t breathe.
Seconds tick by as I stand, paralyzed by fear.
“I have to go,” I whisper, averting my eyes to my feet. “I have to go,” I say more assuredly as I slip out from under his hold and walk away. I have to think of Gwen right now, I scold myself. I can’t deal with this right now, I tell myself. But deep in the crevices of my mind a tiny voice is whispering, Why can’t I just love him back? Why can’t I let him love me? And in the center of the fragmented voice is the heart of a little girl who just wants to be loved.
Chapter 26
Gwen
Small patches of light slowly pervade the darkness. It’s hard to breathe as if I’m being held under water, fighting for every breath. I feel warmth in my hand and I wiggle my fingers slowly just to feel something real. I hear a constant whooshing sound and feel a hard plastic shell covering my mouth and nose, the source of the noise. I blink once, then twice, fighting against the sensation to float away, back to the darkness.
I feel the warmth in my hand grow tighter and then I hear his voice, distant at first but slowly progressing until I sense that he is here with me.
“Gwen? Can you hear me?”
I blink, opening my eyes cautiously and see him clearly in the bright light. John. He looks like shit but the sight of him still fills me with warmth.
I try to speak but there’s not enough breath and my mouth is covered by plastic.
“Gwen, you’re awake. Oh God, I love you so much. I thought I lost you.” He buries his head in my side and I feel him squeeze my hand tighter. I try to squeeze back but I can’t find the strength, so I wiggle my fingers again.
The light is too bright and I’m so tired. I feel myself slipping slowly back to the darkness, it feels so easy to let go, to gradually drift away until the warmth of his hand grows cold and I am lost once again.
Chapter 27
C
harley
Hospitals require patience. Unfortunately a virtue that I never acquired. I have paced the entire perimeter of the ICU waiting room at least fifty times and we have not heard a word from John or the doctor. I silently wish that I was a smoker so that I had an excuse to ride the elevator down to the ground floor where I could stand outside in the cold air and ease my anxiety with a good dose of nicotine. It hurts to think about Gwen and what her body is going through. It hurts to think of her lying still in a hospital bed while her damaged heart works rigorously to keep up. Or to think that if and when her heart gets better, her body is still riddled with cancer. We might not lose her today or tomorrow, but one day we will and sitting here waiting for it to happen is our reality. It makes me feel angry, the thought of losing her.
Grey hasn’t returned to the waiting room. It is just my mother and I. Neither of us speak. My mother flips casually through magazines that are strewn around the room and I continue to pace.
After what feels like hours, John walks out of the ICU. His hair is a complete mess and there are dark circles under his eyes. Time has escaped us and I have no idea whether it is day or night. But seeing John’s face reminds me of how tired I feel.
My mother stands and I walk across the room to join them.
“How is she?” my mother asks.
“She’s still sleeping. Although she did open her eyes a while ago. I’m going to stay here with her tonight.” John looks at my mother. “Connie, do you think you can pick up the kids and stay with them at our house? I want them to sleep in their own beds tonight.”
“Of course, John. What should I tell them?”
He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “Just tell them that Gwen’s sick and she has to stay the night in the hospital. I don’t want to tell them too much until we know more. Once she’s awake, I know that she’ll want to see the kids. Maybe you can bring them into the city tomorrow.”
“Alright,” my mother says and then she wraps her arms around John. He hugs her back. “Make sure you get some rest, John, and some food. You need your strength.”
“Mother, I can call Ben to drive you back to Seaport in my car.”
“Okay, Charlotte.”
“And John, why don’t I sit with Gwen for awhile so you can get something to eat,” I offer.
“Yeah, okay,” he says, nodding his head repeatedly, looking every bit lost and unsure of basic human needs, like eating.
I dig my phone out of my purse and text Ben. He responds right away, letting me know that he’s at his friend’s apartment just a few blocks away and will be here shortly and that he would be happy to drive my mom back to Seaport.
I wait with my mother until Ben arrives, while John goes back to Gwen’s room.
“Hey, I got here as soon as I could,” Ben says as he walks into the waiting room, cheeks flushed as if he ran all the way here.
“Thank you for doing this,” I say. I hand Ben my car keys and my mother gathers her things.
“Hello, Ben,” my mother says, rubbing her hand down his arm while she cradles her purse in her other arm like a baby. “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t get a chance to thank you earlier for getting Charlotte here safely.”
“It was no problem, Ms. Brant,” Ben responds with his dimpled smile. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” my mother says and then turns to me and pulls me into an embrace. This time I hug her back and I feel her almost melt into me.
“See you in the morning, Charlotte. Take care of John and call me if there’s any news.”
“I will. Bye Mom. Thanks again, Ben.” I raise my hand to wave goodbye, but Ben pulls me against him instead and I close my eyes, trying to draw from his strength.
“Bye,” he whispers into my ear and kisses me tenderly on the cheek. And then they both leave.
I push through the double doors and find room number three. I walk through an open door, all glass, and pull back a privacy curtain that reveals my sister or someone who resembles her. Her unconscious body lies still and quiet as if she is just sleeping, so small and frail, drowning in a sea of tubes, wires, and pale blue fabric. Gwen’s skin is colorless, ashen white. Her hair damp and matted against her head. It is jarring to see her appearance anything less than perfect. Her face is covered with an oxygen mask, thick green straps stretch across her cheeks to secure it in place. A machine is beeping continuously yet fading into the background against the wild beat of my heart. Several IV bags are hanging nearby, a maze of tubes running into one single line that drains into the vein in Gwen’s arm. It’s a dreary sight that instantly weighs on my heart. My attention turns to John, where he’s sitting in a chair pushed up to the edge of the hospital bed, as close as it could possibly get. He’s bent over with his head resting on Gwen’s side.
“John,” I whisper, taking slow, tentative steps into the room.
“Oh, hey,” he says, sitting up and stretching his arms.
“Go eat. I’ll stay here until you get back,” I say around the lump in my throat.
“Alright, but call me if she wakes up,” he says. He leans over, kisses Gwen’s hand and whispers, “I’ll be right back, Gwen.” And then he stands and walks out of the room, leaving me in the still, eerie silence.
I sit down and reach for Gwen’s cold hand. Tears sting my eyes and rather than fight them, I surrender. Sobs rack my body and I lay my cheek down on Gwen’s arm.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for the awful things I said. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should have been there. Please be okay. Please be okay...” I repeat until my voice trails off.
I wake up with a jolt to find John gently shaking my shoulder. I fell asleep in the chair, bent over with my head resting on Gwen’s bed.
“Hey,” he says. “You should go home and get some rest. I’m going to need you tomorrow.”
I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. Glancing at Gwen, I reach over and squeeze her hand.
“Are you going to be okay?” I ask John. I feel so guilty for not telling him, for how he must feel right now. Everything is crashing down on him all at once. I don’t want to leave him here all alone.
“I’ll be fine. I just can’t... can’t leave her.” John brings his hand to his face and begins to sob. I’ve never seen him cry before and, to be honest, it’s unsettling. I go to him and wrap my arms around his middle and he instinctively puts his arms around my back. And we stand like this for a while, John sobbing on my shoulder and me crying softly, trying to be strong for him. To be whatever he needs in this moment, a comforting shoulder, a supportive sister-in-law, anything he needs.
He finally pulls back and wipes his face, whispering, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay John. I’m here for you. We’re family.” I say this as if it is the most obvious thing to say, but for the first time I understand what this sentiment actually means. Family. I think of my mother and I, of John, sitting in the waiting room all day and night, together although worlds apart, our presence like a wall of protection for our own, for Gwen, for our family. Each of us a building block, part of a supportive structure, not just for Gwen, but for each other. For John, for Olivia and Max. A structure I hadn’t known as a child. It’s hard to build anything supportive when there are only two blocks. With nothing to connect the two, only one can support the other.
“Thank you,” he says, taking the seat that I just vacated.
“Do you want me to stay for a while?” I ask, feeling that I could use the company almost as much as John.
“No, I’ll be fine. Go get some sleep, it’s late,” he says.
“I’ll be back in the morning, but call me if anything changes or if you need something.” And then I add, “I’ll call Mom and have her bring you a change of clothes and some toiletries in the morning, okay?”
“Okay.” He nods and I turn to go.
“Charley?” he says. And I look back at him just as I’m about to step through the doorway. “Why couldn’t she tell me? Why would she keep this from
me?” he asks with desperation in his eyes.
“She was scared, John. I think keeping it from you... made it less real.” I watch his eyes fill with tears as he nods several times before taking Gwen’s hand in his. I stand and watch him for a moment, envious of the wealth of love he holds in his gaze as he looks at my sister. Like he would trade places with her in a heartbeat, give up his own life to save her. Will I ever have that? Love like that?
I quietly pull the curtain aside and leave the room. I ride the elevator to the ground floor and make my way outside. I feel the cold encompass me as I step outside into the moonless night. I spot an empty yellow cab parked off to the right and walk toward it, pulling my jacket tighter around me to ward off the chill.
“Need a ride?” I hear him say and spin around at the sound of his familiar voice. Grey is sitting on a bench, his hands buried in his jacket pockets, his cheeks red from the frosty air.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, shocked. I haven’t seen him since he told me he loved me and I walked away. I can’t imagine that he’s been waiting here all this time.
“I came back to check on you and see how Gwen’s doing. I didn’t see anyone in the waiting room... so I was going to leave but here I am.” He shrugs his shoulders and flashes me a half smile. “How is she?” he asks as he stands and steps toward me.
“No change,” I say.
“How are you?” he asks, tipping his head slightly to the side, concern etched in his eyes.
I shake my head and shrug, glancing up at the streetlights to hold the tears at bay.
Grey holds out his hand and says, “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
I hesitate for a fraction of a second before I take his hand, interlacing our fingers, and let him lead me to his car where it’s parked in the covered lot across the street.
We don’t speak as he drives through the practically deserted streets of Seattle. It’s late on Thanksgiving night, nearly morning now, and the city is quiet. I stare out my window as building after building blurs by, wanting so badly to just close my eyes and make it all disappear.
The Words We Leave Unspoken Page 15