She heaves a resigned sigh, then pulls me into a brief, tight hug. “I’ll call you later to check in and make sure you’re home.”
“Okay. Good luck at the fitting.”
“Thanks.” She turns to Katie, holding her arms open to catch my niece as she pops off her chair to say goodbye to her favorite of my friends. “You take good care of your auntie for me, all right? She won’t listen to me, but I know she’ll listen to you.”
Katie bobs her head. “I’ll try. Grandma says Aunt Mellie’s stubborn like a mule when she puts her mind to something.”
Eve laughs while I gasp, feigning outrage. “What? When did she say that about me?”
Katie giggles. “All the time. ‘Specially when you boss us about eating vegetables and not staying up late watching TV.”
“Well, I’m about to get even bossier about those things. Grandma’s doctor gave me a bunch of new rules for her to follow after she comes home.”
Katie scrunches her nose. “She’s not gonna like that.”
“That’s why I’m going to need your help making sure she behaves, okay?”
“Okay.”
Eve smiles at us. “If I’m leaving, I should go.”
“Go,” I tell her, drawing my niece under my arm. “We’re good.”
“I’m calling you later.”
I nod. “Thank you for being here. I love you, girl.”
“Love you, too. And you,” she tells Katie. With a wave, she turns away from us and glides out of sight as elegantly as if she’s on a fashion runway.
When it’s just the two of us, I glance down at my niece and the dog-eared kids’ magazine clutched in her hand. “Are you reading something good?”
“Uh, huh. It’s all about elephants in Africa. There are games and stuff in it, too.”
“That does sound good.” I smile at her sweet face that looks so much like my sister’s. “Will you read some of it to me?”
“Sure.”
We head back into the mostly empty waiting room. Traffic in the coronary unit has ebbed and flowed since we arrived yesterday afternoon. The brown vinyl recliner I sat in while Katie slept in my arms last night is vacant, so we reclaim it. For several minutes I allow myself to unwind to the sound of my niece reciting facts about elephant social structures and efforts to conserve endangered species around the world.
I don’t even realize I’m dozing until I startle awake and find my lap empty.
“Katie?” I vault out of the chair and step into the wide corridor outside the waiting room.
She’s nowhere in sight. The halls are busy with nurses moving patients and people drifting out of one room or another along the passageway. But no sign of my niece. I start walking fast, panic rising in my breast.
“Katie?”
I round the corner toward another stretch of hallway practically at a skid. All my breath leaves my lungs in a relieved gust when I see her standing in front of a vending machine. Her small hand is splayed against the Plexiglas, her pale blond head tipped up as she looks longingly at all the beverages inside.
“Katie, what are you doing out here? I thought I told you not to wander off while we were at the hospital. I want you to stay where I can see you, remember?”
She glances at me, her sweet face contrite. “I know. But you were sleeping and I got thirsty.”
“It takes money to use this machine, honey. Come on, I’ll get you a drink from the water cooler near the nurse’s station.”
“But I want juice,” she says, disappointment and fatigue in the puppy dog look she gives me.
She’s tired and bored, which is understandable considering how long we’ve been keeping vigil outside my mom’s unit. She’s probably hungry again, too. We had breakfast in the cafeteria downstairs, but Katie barely picked at her toast and eggs.
