“Is she conscious?” Rikker asked, his voice husky.
Gertie shook her head. “No, honey. But the doctor said that’s not unusual.”
Rikker’s eyes closed, and then opened again. “Let’s go, then.”
They walked off toward the back, leaving me standing there with Skippy and a woman who looked an awful lot like him. She had the same quick brown eyes. “I’m Linda,” she said. And then I saw that she had the same carefree smile as her son, too.
“Graham. Nice to meet you.” We shook, and my head gave me a stab of pain.
Now that my hands were finally free, I could indulge in a full-on massage of my own forehead. The ache had spread, radiating out to my hairline and temples.
“Are you okay?” Linda asked.
“Sure.”
“Wait… you have a head injury, I thought?” Skippy asked.
“I’m okay, I’m just…”probably going to collapse now. Because I’d delivered Rikker to the hospital, my body chose that moment to experience a massive adrenaline crash, and a blood sugar crash, too. Also, I’d skipped my head-injury-patient nap. The only thing to do was to look around for an empty chair. And when I found it, I sort of oozed into it like a blob.
“My goodness,” Skippy’s mother said. I felt her sit down beside me, although I couldn’t see her because my face was in my hands. “Can I scare up some aspirin for you?”
“That is a great idea. But I’ve got it.” I shoved a hand in my pocket and came up with my magic little bottle. I’d downgraded to plain old ibuprofen, and it usually took the edge off. I took out two of them and dry-swallowed them.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Skippy asked, sitting on my other side. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“Uh,”good question. “Yesterday, I think. We were on our way to a party when you called.” There was probably a vending machine around here somewhere. And I knew I should find it.
Skippy made a sound of disapproval. “You know it’s almost five o’clock?” He pulled out his phone and tapped it a few times. “Hiiiii Sweetie! No real news yet. But Rikker got here, so that’s good. His boyfriend is about to pass out, though. So maybe we should have that Thai food sooner rather than later.” Skippy tipped his head in my direction. “You eat Thai?”
“Sure?”
“Put in an extra pad Thai for Rikker, because that’s good warm or cold. Thank you, Sweetie. Love you too.”
Skippy’s mom, who had wandered off, returned to my side. This time, she held out an ice cold can of Coke. “This is what I drink when I have a headache.”
“Wow, thanks,” I said. Sugar and caffeine were excellent headache remedies. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She smiled at me. “We’ve been here all day, just wishing there was someone we could shore up,” she said. “You’re elected.”
Skippy’s mom put one hand on my back, and Skippy added one on his side. I was so delirious with exhaustion that it almost seemed as though their touch was the only thing holding me together. I popped the can open and took a long drag of the soda. Then I looked down at the floor so neither one of them would notice that my eyes had become curiously damp.
—Rikker
A month ago, when I watched them carry Graham off the ice, I thought I knew fear. But it was nothing like this.
They finally let me in to see Gran about an hour-and-a-half after I got there. And then I almost wished they hadn’t. The ICU was full of frighteningly ill people. And Gran frightened me the most. She was so still, and so fragile-looking in that bed.
It was a lonely vigil, because only one family member was allowed to accompany her. There was nothing I could do but sit in another awful plastic chair and make deals with God.Please make this turn out okay, I begged.
The trouble with this strategy was that I wasn’t on great terms with God. Even if he looked past all the swearing and fornication, I hadn’t been a regular churchgoer for years. And I was angry at pretty much anyone who brought up Jesus in a non-ironic way, because I’d been brought up by and among a bunch of fundamentalist homophobes who claimed to be doing God’s work as they shunned me.
That wasn’t really His fault, though. But prayer was probably a dead-end for me. That only left hope, and I guess I had plenty of that.
I hoped Gran would wake up.
I hoped that the effects of her stroke would not be too vast. (And by too vast, I meant that I hoped her sharp mind and her sharp eyes would scrutinize me by morning.)
I hoped that I could help her even a fraction as much as she helped me.
