“What?” That made no sense. How could they have been sitting there for so long? “That would have been around seven.” I took a moment to figure. “You mean they were trapped in the car for three hours?”
“They were unconscious. At least we think so. Dad was in the coma, and Mom wasn’t conscious at first when the ambulance arrived. She woke up in the hospital, but they put her back under before we got there.”
I didn’t reply. It didn’t make any sense. We’d only been together a few hours before. And why this morning? Granted, I’d been missing work for months now, but Cynthia never did. Why this morning when no one else would be around for hours?
Caitlin exited the highway and took the off-ramp that led to the hospital. We didn’t say anything else until we’d parked and were in the hospital elevator.
Caitlin hit the button marked five and looked over at me. “Your new boy will have to wait in the waiting room. Mom and Dad are in separate rooms right now, and they’re only letting one of us in at a time. Dad needs the most, so you go to room 517 and relieve Cynthia, and I’ll go trade out with Christina.”
I nodded. The elevator doors opened, and we followed Caitlin into the hallway. She motioned to the left as she turned the opposite direction and headed to where I assumed Mom waited. I started to jog to room 517 but then turned back to Schwint. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You don’t need to stay here. You can go back to the house if you need anything there.”
Schwint shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I’d like to stay here, if I can. You might need me. If nothing else, I can go get food and stuff for you and your sisters when you need it.”
I started to argue and tell him I didn’t expect anything like that from him, but then realized I shouldn’t take the time. I needed to get to Dad. Plus, if Schwint wanted to help, I wasn’t in the place to turn it down, anyway. “Thank you.” I gave him a quick kiss and rushed off toward Dad.
Sweatpoured down my back. I could feel it soaking through my shirt and into the waistband of my underwear. I’d only been with him for a couple of hours, but already I was feeling drained.
Readjusting, I slipped my left hand over the tubes shooting into Dad’s wrist. I didn’t know if it made a difference where I made contact with him, but I figured it made sense to focus my attention at insertion spots. Couldn’t hurt to my energy into a direct line into his body.
Opening my eyes for a moment, I stared at him once more. I had to use my imagination to see Dad beneath the bruising and the swelling. Between all his injuries, bandages, and tubes, he barely looked human, let alone like Dad.
Letting my eyes close again, I took a deep breath, held it long enough to reconnect with my core, then let it out slowly, visualizing my energy passing through my fingers, into the tubes, and circulating through Dad’s body. With all four of us here, taking turns with Mom and Dad, we could provide nearly constant sources of energy. At first, the nurses had said we couldn’t spend the night, but later in the evening, they’d relented, after much pleading from Christina and me, reasoning from Cynthia, and curses and threats from Caitlin. Whether it was one form of persuasion that convinced them or a combination of all of us, I wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it worked. I wished again we could tell them what we were doing. It would be so much simpler. As it was, we just looked like any other distraught family, refusing to let go of the hands of our parents as we waited to see what fate had in store. Now that we had fallen into a routine, the initial fear was gone. They were going to be fine. I wasn’t sure how much energy it would take or how long we’d have to be giving a constant supply, but I was certain they’d be okay at some point. While we couldn’t heal them per se, with all our power, they had to get better. No matter how long it took.
I did my best to focus only on the transfer of energy, visualizing it flowing into Dad’s broken body, pulsating through his ruptured organs. Even so, my brain kept thinking incriminating thoughts, guilt overwhelming me. Picturing Schwint and I burdening them with all the crap from the voice and the Vampire Cathedral. Thinking back to the sex Schwint and I’d had when we’d gotten back to my place, just hours before Mom and Dad had been hurt. Cuddling up to Schwint’s naked body in my sleep at the very moment their car had been catapulted through the bakery. Sleeping through all the calls from the police and my sisters. Making it so Caitlin had to leave, taking her power from Mom and Dad so she could come find me. Try as I might to shove the thoughts away, they kept coming back, adding a whole other layer of guilt. The last thing Dad needed was my negative thoughts and emotions flooding through him when he required as much life energy as I could give.
It waslate in the afternoon before the doctors were convinced Mom was stable enough to be allowed to return to consciousness, and evening before they brought her to her own room on the intensive care floor. The move allowed two of us to be with her at once.
I’d only gone out to see Schwint twice since we’d arrived, but he sat there the whole time, waiting, talking to Christina and Cynthia when they’d gone out for a quick walk around the floor.
Cynthia was taking her turn with Dad, and Caitlin had left to grab a bite from the hospital cafeteria before they closed. Christina and I were waiting with Mom. Technically, it was Christina’s turn to share her energy with Mom, but I held on to Mom’s other hand, letting some of my energy flow to her as well. I needed to save as much as I could for Dad, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to give Mom a double dose when the chance was right here before me. We were also concerned with Christina giving too much of her power for healing when she was pregnant.
Although she was conscious, she’d only opened her eyes a dozen times in the past couple of hours. She hadn’t seemed able to focus or be particularly aware of anything until the last time, about ten minutes ago, when she looked at Christina and then slowly turned her head and found me, giving us both a smile before falling back into sleep. I’d already been telling myself that they were both going to be fine, but seeing her smile confirmed it. However long, I was going to have Mom back.
It was ten till seven when the nurse came in. I had ten more minutes before I was to take Cynthia’s spot with Dad, and Caitlin would switch with Christina. The nurse was a young redheaded woman with acne scars all over her face. Her voice was so quiet it was barely audible but still made Christina and I jump at the sound.
Nervously, she attempted a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to startle.” She held out a potted orchid and sat it beside mom on the rolling meal tray. “A man just dropped these off at the nurses’ station and asked me to bring them to your mom.”
Christina gave her a kind, tired smile. “Thank you, Theresa. You’ve been very helpful this afternoon. Is your shift about over?”
She nodded, her limp hair trembling at the motion. “Just a few more minutes, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Theresa.” I wouldn’t have been able to remember the nurse’s name if my life depended on it. Christina had always been more like Dad, always polite and aware of everyone around her, no matter what she was going through. Mom, while polite and kind, was a little more emotionally driven, like my other two sisters and me.
Theresa gave a slight nod before leaving the room. “I’ll keep your folks in my prayers.”
Standing, but not letting go of Mom’s hand, I looked closer at the frilly orange flowers. “They’re gorgeous but kind of exotic for a hospital room. You’d think they’d go with something simple, like roses.”
Christina glanced at them, then turned her attention back to Mom. “I’m sure they’re from the restaurant.”
Reaching over, I plucked a tiny crimson envelope from within the leaves.
Before I could open it, another nurse—an elderly, thin wisp of a woman—rushed through the door. She darted over and swooped the flowers from the table. Her voice was as thin and reedy as she was. “I’m sorry, folks, but flowers aren’t allowed on the intensive care unit. Theresa has only been here a couple of weeks, but she should have known better. I’ll have them sent to the florist shop downstairs. In the morning, they can put them in the cooler until you’re ready to pick them up.” Without another word, she took the flowers and left, leaving the door propped open behind her.
“Who was she?”
Christina shrugged. “Don’t know. But I’m betting she’s the night nurse. It’s going to be a long night with that one.” She gestured with her chin toward the envelope in my hands. “Was it the restaurant?”
Looking down at the envelope, I tentatively released Mom’s hand, slid my finger under the unsealed flap, and pulled out a plain white rectangular card with handwritten script in red ink. I felt the blood drain from my face as I read the words.
