“Monroe. You’re a good boy. Where’s Ezra?”
“Grandma, don’t worry.”
“That Ezra’s a nice boy. Pretty. He loves you. He’ll be back. Deborah, I spilled the tea.”
Helpless, I moved away from the bed, listening to her rambling as they wheeled her out. Dr. Patel remained with us.
Haunted and gray-faced, my mother leaned against the wall. “She’s talking about people and things that happened over twenty years ago. Robert was her son—my husband—and he died sixteen years ago.”
“Some confusion is common, especially in the beginning. Once we get the neurologist to give her tests and see the extent of the damage, we can determine her treatment.” Dr. Patel made some notes on the chart. “She’ll be on the fifth floor.”
Worried about my grandmother, but also for my mother, who wasn’t used to such upset, I put my arm around her, hoping she’d lean on me. Not that I was feeling so strong, but I had to put up a front. She trembled, and I hugged her tighter. “Grandma is the strongest person I know. I’m sure she’s going to fight this as hard as she can.”
“I think so. Funny how I’m almost seventy, and yet I still need her.” Her shaking ceased, and she gazed up at me, tearful eyes filled with a hope I had to keep alive.
“You’ll have her, Mom. You know she’s a fighter.”
Arms around each other and heads together, we left the small room and walked back out to the waiting area.
He’d waited.
Golden head bent, Ezra had removed his suit jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. His long legs stretched out in front of him as he sat, scrolling on his phone. It shouldn’t have sent a thrill of anticipation through me that Ezra was there. His eyes lit up as we approached, and he jumped to his feet. “How’s she doing? What’s going on?”
Tongue-tied at his concern, I cleared my throat before speaking. “They’ve admitted her. Sh-she had a stroke. They won’t know how much it’s affected her motor skills until they run tests. Her speech is a little slurred, but she seems to be okay.”
Relief swept over Ezra’s face. “Oh God, I hope…” He blinked and rubbed his face. “So she’s in a room now? You’re going home? I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
“We’re going to wait until she gets into the room. The doctor said it would be about half an hour.”
It ended up closer to an hour, but my mother and I saw my grandmother sleeping in her room, the machines at her side beeping ominously. I’d told Ezra to meet us outside the front entrance, and I had to admit it was good to see him waiting by the doors when we exited the hospital.
Time had ceased to exist while inside, and for the first time since my grandmother fell ill, I looked at my phone. It was past two in the morning.
“Mom, hold on a little longer. I’ll get a cab.”
Her smile turned into a yawn. “I’m sorry. All of a sudden it hit me like I ran into a brick wall.”
Watching us, Ezra tapped on his phone screen. “Come on. I ordered us a car.”
I should have been annoyed that he’d taken control, but I had to admit it was nice to have someone to turn to. “You didn’t have to.”
“Roe, don’t.” He shot me a frown, and I had no head to argue with him. I remembered texting Carmen, filling her in on the details and asking her to find me a sub, if she could. I would call her later in the morning when I was more coherent.
Ezra linked his arm through my mother’s and led her to the curb. I dragged myself after them. A black car pulled up, and Ezra opened the door for my mother to climb inside.
“Roe?” He stood by the open door.
I joined him at the curb. “Aren’t you coming with us?” I wasn’t sure if I meant that as a question or an invitation, but the words flew out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.
His brows drew up in surprise. “You want me to?”
I should’ve seen it coming. The smartest thing would be to send him home. It had been a highly emotional night, and I wasn’t thinking straight. That was the only explanation for my answer. “Please?”
He settled in beside me, and the car drove off. My mother fell asleep against my shoulder almost instantly, and I was left with the solid warmth of Ezra’s thigh pressed against mine.
“Are you okay?” Ezra asked.
“I don’t know.”
