Part 9 (1/2)

There's a clatter from the hallway. Sounds like someone dropped a bedpan. I don't bother to look.

”Tell me,” I whisper.

”I can't,” she says.

My hands shake and I make fists at my side. I limp to the chair

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that's at the end of her bed and sit. Anger mashes with numbness.

It feels cold.

”I'm sorry,” she says.

I raise my head to look at her. She's staring at me and she clears her throat. I'd given up knowing long ago. I look away and study the picture on the wall above the bed. A cottage scene. Pastels.

Boring. Tranquil. Exactly opposite to what's going on inside me.

It's almost worse that she's only telling me because she thinks she's going to die. But I can't provoke her now. I have to keep her calm before surgery.

”You're not allowed to die to get out of this,” I tell her. ”You're not allowed to. We'll talk about this later.”

She will have a later, and I'll save my anger for then. She's not allowed to die.

There's noise outside the room, and then a couple of nurses enter the room. One waves her hand in a shooing motion, tell- ing me to get out of the way. She's young. Blond. Probably in her twenties. Pretty.

”You must be the daughter. Good. You made it. Now off you go. We're prepping her for her surgery. Go wait with Josh.” I don't miss that the nurse knows my brother by name. She must like mustaches. The other nurse, an older one, starts unplugging and moving things around. It's a dance they've done a thousand times before with a thousand different patients.

”Wait,” I say, and something in my voice must be extra desperate because both nurses pause. I step around the young nurse and lean forward so my mom's face is in line with mine. I take a deep breath.

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J a n e t G u r t l e r ”I love you, Mom,” I whisper, and honestly I don't remember the last time I told her that.

She smiles, and the fine wrinkles around her mouth crease up even though I know she secretly gets Botox injections when she can afford to. Thank you, she mouths and then closes her eyes. ”If you want the truth. Look at home. In my jewelry box. The answers are there if you want them.”

The nurses are instantly moving again. I stand straight and move against the wall, out of the way, and before I know it, they're out the door, wheeling my mom down the hallway. There's so much in my head, and I can't process any of it right now.

”Take care of my mom,” I whisper. I'm not sure who I'm talking to, but I think it might be G.o.d again. I hope He still listens, even if we haven't talked this much in forever.

The old man sighs in his sleep and then farts loudly again. I roll my eyes at him and leave the room. Josh is still standing in the hallway, staring off where Mom disappeared to. He calls my name, but I ignore him and keep going. I walk until I'm outside and then march straight to a cab waiting by the hospital exit. I give him our home address and then lean back against the seat.

Is this what I want? To find the guy who walked away from me?

Do I want to rip off the scabs to those wounds? I feel fear throb inside me. What if I am left all alone? What if I need him? Will he even be willing to see me? Can I handle it if he won't?

Suddenly, I'm not sure I'm ready to find out who he is after all.

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chapter six.

J osh is leaning against the wall of the hospital room. He looks as if he's been punched in the stomach. Jake is sitting, but his eyes are closed. I'm standing beside my mom and staring down at her, memories swirling around my brain- times I was in bed sick, when she'd bring me soup and ginger ale.

The doctor spoke to us while Mom was in recovery, a.s.suring us she'd be out of the hospital shortly, within a day or two, and back to her regular routine in a week or so. ”She has to make some changes, but she should be fine,” she says. They found an artery with 90 percent blockage and put a stent in.

The nurses brought her back to the room after they moni- tored her heart and blood pressure in the recovery room and removed her catheter tube. They told us her puncture site has been dressed and the bleeding stopped. My stomach rolled, but I thought of Adam and how he'd explain it in a way I would understand.

Her eyes flutter and then open and focus in on me first.

”Hey. What do you know, you're alive,” I say softly and then smile.

Jake jumps to his feet and whacks me on the back of the head.

Luckily he whacks me lightly.

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J a n e t G u r t l e r ”Funny, Morgan,” she croaks. ”Always funny.” Her voice is raspy and low. She'd make a good late night DJ on one of those call- in shows for lonely people, the way she sounds.

”How do you feel, Mom?” Jake asks, putting a hand on her fore- head as if she's a child with a fever.

”Good. I mean...okay.” She peers over at Josh. He straightens up, and his lips turn up in a shaky smile. ”Hey, Mom,” he says.

She squints, peering deeply at him. ”I have a stent in my heart,”

she tells him. He pushes himself off the wall and moves closer.

She gazes at each of us and then down at her chest. ”I had to stay awake. I guess I fell asleep after. I don't remember.”