“Yeah, turn left at the next two lights. You’ll see it.” He gripped theoh shitbar hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
Ten minutes later, without a single word spoken between us, we parked at the hospital and walked hand-in-hand to the entrance. I couldn’t remember who reached for who, but I squeezed his hand. I would support him any way possible. I couldn’t imagine this hell. “You can do it, Ronnie.”
He squeezed it back and asked the nurse what direction his dad’s room was. She pointed down the hall with a smile. I took that as a good sign. Aaron pushed the door open with his fingertips and I wasn’t sure if I should follow or not. He answered for me, pulling me in with him.
His mom and sister ran up to him, hugging him hard. My eyes stung at their raw emotion and I was shocked when his mom hugged me too. “Thank you, Greta, for coming with him.”
“Of course.” I met his gaze over his mom’s shoulder. “How’s he doing?”
“Stabilized the fever. He’s still weak.” She squeezed me one more time and put her arms around her son. “He’s been pretty out of it for a while, at least the last hour or so.”
Aaron removed his arm from his sister and went to stare down at his dad. My heart did something funny but I pushed the emotion down. This was so not the time for any thoughts likethat. His sister hugged me and kept her arm around me. “Want to go find a drink with me?”
“Sure.” I waited to see if Aaron looked up or acknowledged that he’d heard me, but I got nothing. “Ronnie, you want a drink?”
He slowly glanced at me and shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“I’ll get you a water anyway. Mrs. Hill?”
“A water would be great, thank you.” She smiled warmly at me and joined Aaron at the edge of the bed. Kenzie motioned toward the hall and I followed. “How are you holding up, Kenz?”
“Kenz?” She laughed and flicked her long hair over her shoulder. “You must hang out with Aaron. He’s the only one to call me that.”
“Well, yeah.” I shrugged, pursing my lips. “I know you as Kenz. Sorry. Kenzie? Mack? Mackenzie?”
“Hell, no. I like Kenz. That’s just fine.” She collapsed into a plastic chair near the vending machines and let out a loud heart-stopping sigh. “I needed out of that stifling room. Aaron has it lucky not having to live this every single day. I hate it. Does that make me the worst human alive?”
I got the water from the machine and sat next to her. It wasn’t my place to comfort—hell, I had my own issues—but the plea in her eye called to me. The sadness in the room, the tenacity of this family as it changed a year ago… If my words could help ease her pain even a little bit, it would be worth it. “You are not the worst person at all, Kenz. No. I can’t relate to your situation, but seeing your dad struggle every day, and your mom, has to be hard as hell.”
Moisture filled her eyes and she wiped them quickly before looking back at me. “It’s the worst. I can’t enjoy my senior year. All I want to do is get away, go to college to try to be happy. But I can’t do that to them. I won’t. Look, I’m sorry I’m venting to you. This is humiliating.”
“Stop, it’s okay. I’m a good listener.” I squeezed her shoulder, my eyes stinging. “I can’t speak for Aaron. However, we hang out all the time and you aren’t the only one struggling. He handles it in different ways. Talk to him.”
“Thanks.” She sniffed again and stood. “Ready to go back?”
“Yup.” I smiled at her, seeing her put her bravado onto her face piece by piece. My heart hurt again. I couldn’t imagine being the kid at home during this time. One parent struggling, the other in pain… I shook my head. I would think about all that later.
We entered the room and I passed out the water. Without thinking, I went up to Aaron and slipped my arm around his waist. He smiled down at me, putting his arm around me and gripping my hand. No one spoke as we watched Aaron’s dad breathe, the machine monitoring his vitals next to him. It wasn’t until a bit later, maybe an hour or so, that Aaron’s mom cleared her throat.
“Why don’t you kids go back to the house and come back with food in the morning? I’ll stay here with him. They’ll come and kick you all out once they realize you’re here.”
“Sure, Mom,” Kenzie replied and took the keys from her. “We’ll call in the morning for requests, but if anything else happens, call us immediately.”
“Of course. I love you both, so much.” She went to Kenzie first, enveloping her in a tight embrace. She did the same to Aaron and I gasped when she hugged me too. “Thank you again, Greta, for coming. See you all tomorrow.”
We left the room. “Did you drive here or do you need a ride, Kenz?”
“I need a ride.” Her gaze flicked to our joined hands, but she didn’t say anything. We went to the car in silence, the worry and sadness present with every breath. He volunteered to drive and we sat in silence. When Aaron pulled into the driveway at their house fifteen minutes later, I felt I could breathe again. Kenzie strode off into her room. “I’ll see you guys in the morning. Bye.”
That left me and Aaron. He appeared more relaxed, his shoulders not as tight as before and his face not a blank stare. He faced me and smiled—not the full one I loved, but a half one. “Come here.”
I obeyed and walked into his open arms. He squeezed me, putting his head into my hair. I closed my eyes and tried to give him all my strength in that hug. It lasted for two minutes, the comforting scent of him filling my nose. “Let’s go to bed, Ronnie. You gotta be tired.”
“Okay.” He put both hands on my shoulders and guided me toward the basement door. “My room is down here. I’ve always been a bit crazy. They put me down here to block out the noise.”
My stomach tightened. Did he mean—no. This was not the time forthat.I went down the stairs and spied the baseball shrine that was clearly Aaron’s room. I chuckled at the baseball beanbag chairs, the posters from the nineties and early two-thousands teams. Pictures of teams, trophies, ribbons and jerseys all hung up on the walls. I went to look at them, but he grabbed my elbow, dragging me. “What?”
“I need you right now.” His eyes were haunted, dark. His sadness and worry poured out of him and I tensed.
