“I know.”
As the day wore on, Gram and I ran out of ideas on how to make me have a seizure. So did the nurses.
I was due to be ejected from the hospital by the afternoon, so they decided to use the final hours to test a different medicine to see if it would alter my EEG as it entered my bloodstream. Gram consulted with the neurologist. I half listened, only commenting when they talked about side effects, like my liver dying or my hair falling out.
They settled on one, and I took the first dose while I was still wired up. Ava and I kept up our hourly waves at the door. Since I had nothing left to lose at this point, I asked DeShawn to pass her a note. To my surprise, he did, slipping it into her hand while she was at the door.
An hour before I was due to leave, I got a note back.
I had asked Ava how I could get in touch with her afterwe left. I already knew she didn’t have an email address or phone number.
She copied the home address from her medical form onto the piece of paper, saying she hoped it was her current one. That was my only way to find her.
“What do I do, Gram? I can’t just show up at her house. Her mom would never let me in.”
Gram was putting the finishing touches on her heart pillow. “You could send her letters.”
Typical Gram. So old-fashioned.
“I’m sure her mother checks the mail and would toss them.”
“Ava is smart. If she knows things are coming from you, she’ll find a way to get the mail herself.”
I couldn’t count on it. As the minutes ticked down to when I would no longer get to wave at Ava from across the hall, I made a decision. Gram wouldn’t like it. But she was my gram, and she would forgive me.
I asked her for the heart pillow she was planning to take Ava as we left.
I scribbled a note, explaining how to turn on my cell phone and what the cord was for. I took nothing for granted.
While Gram packed the room, I shoved my cell phone and power cord into the hidden compartment of the pillow and buttoned it. I had to admire Gram’s work. She’d knitted loops and buttons all around the edge of the pillow, but only one of them released the secret compartment. I could only hope Ava would figure out how to open it. Otherwise, I had sent my phone to a dark and lonely death.
I missed my last hourly wave to Ava because the tech arrived to pull my electrodes. I hoped to jump into theshower immediately and get rid of the glue and grease from having spent so many days in the hospital without a proper shower. I wanted Ava to see me looking normal at least once.
But the nurses were already gathering my towels and sheets and clearing the room.
Gram warned me not to pass Ava’s door. “If that mother of hers sees us together, the jig is up.”
So we avoided that side of the unit until we turned the corner.
“I’m going back to do the old lady act and leave the pillow,” she said. “You wait here.”
I hated not saying goodbye to Ava, but Gram was right. I had to sacrifice this last meeting for the hope she’d get my pillow and my phone, and we’d talk outside the hospital.
I stood around the corner with my duffel, waiting to hear if the pillow plan had worked, when pretty much the luckiest thing of my life happened. On the other side of the courtyard, I spotted Ava. She was no longer wired and walked down the opposite hall with the counselor who had led the support group.
This was my chance. I raced to her.
“Tucker!” Morena said. “You’re not wired. Are you leaving?”
“Yes, right now,” I said. “I need to borrow Ava for five seconds.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
I didn’t listen as I pulled Ava out of earshot. “My grandmother made you a secret pillow. It’s shaped like a heart. Hopefully, it’s on your bed or somewhere in your room. I hid my cell phone inside it, and a note about how to use it. I’ll have another phone by tomorrow, and I’ll textyou. It won’t make any noise at all. Just check it every once in a while and plug it into the wall if it goes dead.”
Ava’s face lit with happiness. “You thought of everything.”
“I’m never going to give you up.” I pressed a quick kiss to her lips.
