“Thanks.” I sipped the hot liquid, letting it warm my bones. “I didn’t expect you to stay.” Not exactly what I wanted to say to him, but then, I wasn’t quite sure how to put into words what I felt. As the endless wait continued, we’d slipped back into talking to each other, almost as if the hurtful words we’d flung earlier had never happened, but they hovered between us, and I knew at some point things would need to be addressed.
“Mr. Friedman?”
“Yes.” I jumped up to the sight of a man in blue scrubs approaching us. “I’m Monroe Friedman, and this is my mother. How’s my grandmother?”
“She’s resting now. We’ve admitted her. Come with me. You can see her before we transfer her to a room.”
I grabbed my jacket off the chair, and my mother picked up her purse. We’d traveled a few feet across the room before I realized Ezra had remained behind, and I stopped. “Ezra?”
He waved me ahead. “Go on. I’ll wait. But don’t forget to come and tell me what happened. Please?”
“Of course we will,” my mother said. “Right, Monroe? Ezra’s been wonderful.”
“Yeah, of course we will.” I repeated and caught his gaze. “Thanks. You have been amazing tonight, and I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said softly. “I’ll be right here.”
Why did my heart squeeze so tight? I felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind when Ezra returned to that uncomfortable plastic chair. But I had no time to waste. I hurried to catch up to my mother and the nurses’ aide. We pushed through the swinging door and entered the tumult of the emergency room, with beeping machines, patients on gurneys lined up in the hallways, and doctors and nurses rushing around, shouting orders. My head spun, and I clutched my mother’s hand.
“Room five,” the aide said, pushing aside the curtain, then greeted my grandmother in a loud voice. “Nettie, can you hear me? Look who I brought to see you.”
At the sight of her lying under a sheet as white as her face, with tubes in her nose and ominous-sounding machines around her, a stabbing pain pierced my heart. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye.
“I’m not deaf, you know.” Her eyelids struggled to open, and she spoke through lips slanted downward on one side. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Mom, Deborah. And Monroe is here too.”
“Grandma.” I forced a smile. “You’re going to be fine.”
Bleary eyes gazed back at me. “Monroe? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
“It’s the middle of the night, Grandma. You’re in the hospital.”
Blinking rapidly, she struggled to speak. “I know that,” she grumbled. “But you can’t be late for class. Where’s your boyfriend?”
I gaped at her. “Boyfriend? I don’t—”
“That blond boy. I know you are. Don’t tell me no.” Her speech turned more slurred, and the beeping on the machine increased. “I know. Can’t hide.” Her eyelids fluttered shut, and my mother put her hand on my shoulder.
The curtain opened, and a young dark-haired woman smiled at us. “Are you Mrs. Friedman’s relatives?” At our nod, she picked up the chart hooked to the base of the gurney. “I’m Dr. Patel, the resident on duty. Mrs. Friedman had a stroke, but we can’t tell how severe until we get her an MRI and run some tests. She has some speech and her motor ability, which is very good. We’re going to admit her, okay?”
We nodded in unison. “Is she going to be all right?” my mother asked, her voice hitching.
Sympathy pinched a line between Dr. Patel’s brows, and she reached out to grab my mother’s hand. A beautiful diamond engagement ring sparkled in the harsh overhead light. “We’re going to do our best to make sure she has as complete a recovery as possible, but she is quite elderly, so we’re proceeding with caution, of course. Right now we’re waiting for transport to take her upstairs, and in the morning we’ll start with tests.”
“Okay, thank you.” I held my mother’s other hand. “We’ll stay until she’s settled.”
“I suggest you go home after and get some rest.”
“We will.”
The curtain opened again, and two men stood outside the small room. “We’re here to take Mrs. Friedman upstairs.”
My mother walked over and kissed my grandmother’s cheek. “Mom. It’s going to be okay. We’ll see you soon. Try and sleep.”
My grandmother’s eyes blinked open. “Good, good. You’re like my own daughter to me, Deborah. Tell Robert I love him.”
Robert. My father. I wanted to cry. “Grandma, I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”
