Mrs. Reed picked up her purse and, with a final scathing look at me, she followed Nurse Burke, who offered me a slight, sympathetic nod. I smiled halfheartedly in return, hoping she understood my appreciation for her intervention.
After Clay’s parents disappeared I collapsed into a chair. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Rachel was shakingme.
“Maggie! Oh, my God, Maggie!” I opened my eyes to see Rachel, Daniel, and my parents crowded around me. Daniel pulled me to my feet as he and Rachel hugged me.
“You scared me to death! I could smack you,” Daniel said with a frown, but not once did he let go of me. Rachel just started crying and clung to me as if we had been apart for months rather than days.
I pulled away from my friends and launched myself at my parents. They held me tightly to them, each telling me over and over that they loved me. I was so appreciative of them, especially after being subjected to Clay’s cold and self-centered family.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered repeatedly.
“Shh. Don’t worry. It’s all over now. Let’s just go home.”
I hesitated. I felt torn about leaving Clay. How could I just go back to Davidson and leave him here at the mercy of his parents?
As if on cue, Mrs. Reed came back through the ICU doors, talking to a tall, bearded man with a hospital badge that identified him as Dr. Lang, the staff psychiatrist.
Knowing it was futile, I approached her after she finished speaking with the doctor. “Is Clay all right? Are you taking him home?”
Mrs. Reed looked at me with cold, unfeeling eyes. “We’re taking him back to Florida where we can get him the help he needs” was all she said as she started to turn away from me to fill out the paperwork Dr. Lang had handed her.
I peeked at the form she was signing and saw that it was transfer paperwork. My throat tightened. They really were taking himaway.
My mother came up behind me. “Mrs. Reed, I’m Elizabeth Young, Maggie’s mother. I know my daughter will be very worried about Clayton. Is there any way you can let her know about his progress? Maybe let them communicate while he’s in treatment?”
I tried to control my shocked expression. I couldn’t believe my mom was actually advocating for me to be able to maintain communication with Clay. I squeezed her hand in thanks. Mrs. Reed didn’t even bother to look up at my mother. Rude bitch.
“Idon’tthink that would be appropriate. Your daughter has been the source of a lot of my son’s problems during his stay in Virginia. I think the best thing for Clayton will be to get as far away from here,and her,as possible.” I felt my mom tense beside me, and I waited in anticipation for her to unleash the mama superpowers.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Reed, but I think you are quite mistaken.” Mrs. Reed looked up at my mother, seeming bored with their conversation. My mom continued. “Maggie has been nothing but supportive of your son, even when he treated her badly. Perhaps you need to take a long look in the mirror and see why your son is so troubled.”
Mrs. Reed simply raised her eyebrow, which was so much like Clay, and didn’t bother to respond. She turned on her heel and walked back into the ICU.
And, just like that, the door to my relationship with Clay slammed firmly in my face. I was crushed and my body literally sagged in defeat, as I felt an immeasurable weight pressing down on me.
“Thank you for trying, Mom,” I said, as she gathered me to her.
“What a horrible woman. Poor Clayton. No wonder he struggled so.” That was the nicest thing my mother had ever said about Clay. She held me close against her as we left the hospital, my father on my other side, and my two best friends following close behind. We all piled into my family’s minivan, and I tried to stop the tears as I watched the hospital, and Clay, disappear behind me.
“I need to go back to the motel and get my and Clay’s things,” I said as my dad pulled out onto the road.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” My mom sounded concerned. I leaned forward and gripped the seat.
“Please, Mom. I need to do this.” My mom and dad didn’t pose any more arguments. And when we pulled up to the Motel 6, my parents and friends accompanied me into the tiny room that held my last good memories of Clay and me together.
I felt like he had died, because I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to see or talk to him for a very long time. At least not until Clay was able to make those decisions for himself. I wanted to be confident in the belief that he would contact me as soon as he was able. But I couldn’t be sure and that made the hollow feeling that was building in my chest nearly intolerable. Clay had looked so broken when I left. I wasn’t positive he would ever be a part of my life again.
“Shit,” Rachel breathed as she took in the destroyed room. No one said anything as I pulled out Clay’s duffel bag and started gathering the clothes that he hadn’t shredded and stuffed them inside.
I went into the bathroom and almost lost it at the sight of the dried blood on the floor. I closed the door and fell to my knees and let loose my pain. I cried for Clay, for myself, for the future together that we would never have. I put a clean towel under the tap and then got on my knees and scrubbed. I wanted to wipe up every last drop of his blood; as if that would erase the horrible memories of him lying motionless in my arms as I struggled to keep him with me—to keep him alive.
I must have been in there for quite a while, until my mom came in and found me still furiously wiping the floor.
“Honey, you can leave that. That’s enough,” she said gently, yet I couldn’t stop. I wet the towel again and got back on my knees and scrubbed some more.
“Maggie. Please, just leave it.” She got down on the floor with me and put her hands over mine. I looked up into her eyes that were filled with love and concern. “You don’t have to do this. Leave it here.” I knew that she meant more than the blood. I dropped the towel and let her lead me out of the bathroom. Daniel picked up the duffel bag and we closed the door to the motel room. I left the key card outside on the stoop.
Rachel rode beside me on the way home, squeezing my hand every so often. I let my head drop to her shoulder and my best friend stroked my hair as we finally made our way back home.
