His mouth is a grim line, but he shakes his head. “We don’t know, son. She hasn’t been confiding in Heidi, and the docs wouldn’t release any information to us once we showed up a few minutes ago. No officers have shown up yet, though.”
“They would’ve told you if she was dying, right?” I whisper.
Tired lines emphasize his brown eyes. “No. Because we aren’t technically related.”
The reminder only serves as a punch to the gut.
Eric must feel me tense, because he squeezes my shoulder again. “I’ll go hunt down a doctor who can come tell you more. All the receptionist said is she’ll be wheeled out of surgery and into one of these recovery rooms in a few hours if she’s stable.” He strides away, but Kate stops him. Her small frame still drowns beneath my leather jacket.
“Keep us updated, please,” she says.
Eric nods, pulling her into a quick hug. “Thanks for taking care of our boy.” He turns on his heel, heading back toward the emergency entrance.
Heidi is a crumpled mess of tissues, red edging her nose and eyes. “Come sit, sweetie.” She pats a seat beside her, and Julia claims my other side. I’m bathed in a harmony of hushed consolation, but I’m unable to relax. Unable to prevent horrified flashes of a future without Mom’s hugs or sassy comebacks. One where I’m utterly alone.
I squeeze my eyes shut, slumping over on Heidi’s much shorter shoulder. I don’t remember exhaustion pulling me into sleep, but when I come to, Heidi is making soft snoring noises as she leans against Eric,who is also asleep. His search for information must have been unsuccessful.
Tuck and Julia sit adjacent to us, passed out on a loveseat. His arm cushions Julia’s head. Her long limbs stretch sideways on the couch as she reclines against his chest.
I ease my head off Heidi’s shoulder, cracking my neck, and that’s when I see her.
Draped in Tuck’s red UCI hoodie he must have donated to her, Kate is perched like a hawk in the closest chair to the nurses’ station. My leather jacket blankets her tiny gym shorts and is topped by a magazine. One she’s not even looking at, though she turns the page every so often. Dark circles tinge the skin beneath her eyes as she watches the nurses.
My heart swells.
Her eyes flit to me as if on routine, seeming surprised to find me awake. But then her fierce gaze probes deeper into mine as if she’s trying to dig out each of my worst case scenarios and assassinate them all.
A tired smile tugs the corners of my mouth.
Kate glances once again at the nurses’ station before she closes the magazine and slides my leather jacket off her legs. I move to stand as well but hesitate once I notice the hospital-grade blanket draped over my own gym shorts. I swing my confusion to Kate. A slight blush deepens her cheeks as she approaches.
“Sorry,” she whispers, glancing at Heidi and Eric sleeping beside me. “You only had your workout stuff on, and the nurses only gave me one blanket.”
I stand, draping the cotton blanket around Kate’s shoulders.
Words replace themselves one by one on my tongue, each incapable of communicating what I’m feeling. What am I feeling? Fear for my mom, of course. Trepidation at life without her, and anxiety over our lives together if she has relapsed.
I don’t know if I can handle it all again.
I crumble against Kate’s shoulder, and she holds me fiercely against her small body. Her hands stroke through the hair on my neck as she whispers something against my chest. But I don’t understand. I can’t understand any of this.
“Mrs. Roberts?” A doctor with a tight bun and heavyset middle approaches us, but to my surprise, Kate turns to her and replies.
“Yes? Did you find out anything more about my mother-in-law?”
I blink at Kate, convinced my ears are still warping sounds.
She mutters out the side of her mouth, “They wouldn’t tell me anything unless I was related, so I lied. Guess I’m your fake wife now.”
“That’s a big leap from a fake girlfriend, Kate,” I murmur, though I can’t ward off a small grin. The tenacity in Kate’s pinky finger is more than most will have their whole lives.
“Shut up and act like we’re married.”
She circles to face the nurse like she rules the roost of our very fake household. “Can you update us?”
“Yes.” The doctor tugs at her worn green scrubs. “The surgeon, Dr. Muegller, has been drawn into another operation, but everything went well. Your mother-in-law is stable. Her vitals took a dip during the anesthesia, but she should be waking up within the hour. Her ribs are bruised but will heal. However, the lower-leg surgery was far more intense than the initial x-rays suggested. Dr. Muegller was pleased to report that although much of her tibia bone was shattered on impact, he believes she’ll make a full recovery.”
I sag against Kate’s embrace but keep my eyes on the doctor. “Thank you,” I choke out.
