“Find him?” Jacksonquestions.
“I need to find Charlie, or at least see if he’s still alive. I need to do it for her. I’m not ready to let go of her yet, either, especially after learning everything from her diary. I feel like I just met her for the firsttime.”
Jackson places his hands on my shoulders and glances down at me with determination written across his face. “I have Friday off. I can help you if you want,” he says. “For now, though, come with me.” I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I want to start looking for Charlie this very second, but I can hardly seestraight.
Jackson takes my hand, leading me out of the waiting room and down the hall to where he pushes open a door that leads into a stairwell. “Where are wegoing?”
“We need sleep,” hesays.
I agree with him there, butwherewe are going to sleep is what I’m wondering. We hike up a couple flights of stairs that lead to a different wing of the hospital. This place keeps getting bigger and bigger, I swear. Jackson swipes his badge along one of the security boxes and opens the door into a lobby-like area. “Where arewe?”
“When we have double shifts that overlap at night, we take naps. Sometimes I just sleep here when my shift runs longer than it should, and I have to be back early in the morning.” The lobby area leads down a hall with several doors. Some are open and some are closed. I assume the closed ones are occupied, as we walk into one of the open ones. It looks like a small hotel room inside. “It’s nice that you have a place to stayhere.”
“We’re lucky to have a space like this. Most hospitals don’t offer such high-class quarters,” he says with a tiredsmile.
I don’t think twice before dropping my bag against the wall, kicking my shoes off, and climbing into the inviting bed. He follows, but removes his shirt before pulling the sheets over us. Jackson wraps his heavy arm around me, and the comfort of being held by him soothes my worries into the back of my mind, even if onlytemporarily.
Jackson hadto be up at six, and without the comfort of his body taking up the space beside me, I wasn’t hard to rouse. He told me I could stay here for a while longer and sleep, but I thought it might be awkward if I walked out of here alone and ran into any of the other medical staff, so I decide to head back down to the despised waitingroom.
I’m ready to begin my research on Charlie, but I’m also nervous for what I might find. Would this complicate Grams’s life or give her the sense of peace she may have been looking for half of herlife?
I pull my laptop and the diary out of my bag because I still can’t remember if Charlie’s last name was mentioned, so I’ll have to startthere.
After skimming through the first few entries I read, I come across the name Charlie Crane. I can only imagine how many Charlie Cranes there are in theworld.
I open my browser and type in his name, followed byWorld War II soldier. My throat tightens as the swirling icon spins over a blankpage.
I’m not surprised when several pages of articles pop up, but nothing with Charlie’s name in the headline. I delete theWorld War II soldierpart and just search broadly for his name, but I’m greeted with even more pages of Charlie Cranes. I need to know what country he’s living in, or lived in, for thatmatter.
Out of frustration from not knowing where to start, I search for Grams’s name to see what information comes up about her. There’s very little, but her name is on a list of survivors documented at Ellis Island in 1944, which means there is still a year between the time she escaped and when she made it to the United States. I have no idea what happened during thattime.
A blur of blue scrubs moves past the window, stealing my attention away from the screen. The door then opens, and Jackson pops his head inside. How does he look so good after getting so little sleep? I probably look like a zombie right now. “She’s awake if you want to go on down there,” he tellsme.
I hop up from my seat, slapping my laptop shut and tossing it into my bag, along with the diary. “Is shegroggy?”
“Not really,” he says. “I want to warn you that her face is pretty bruised up, though. I don’t want you to be surprised when you seeher.”
“Did she need stitches or anything?” Iask.
He shakes his head and presses a slight smile to one corner of his lips. “No. Luckily, they’re just superficialbruises.”
“At least that’s one good thing,” Isigh.
“Hey,” he says, walking into the waiting room. He pulls me in for a hug and runs his hand over the back of my head. “She’s alive, and that’s a good thing.” He’s completely right. How quickly I’ve forgotten about my distress from last night is proof that exhaustion is starting to get the best of me, aswell.
“You’re right,” Iagree.
He takes my free hand and pulls it up to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. “It’s going to beokay.”
Jackson stands back up and guides me over to the door, holding it open for me to walk through. “I’ll be down there in just a few,” he says. “I have another patient to check onfirst.”
I make my way through the hall to Grams’s room, anxiously stepping inside as I try my best not to wince at the blue and purple splotches covering her face. This kills me. Weeks ago, she was still walking every day, managing her life just fine, and now, out of nowhere, or so it seems, she could be slowly dying. I can’t help but wonder if she was ignoring symptoms, or just failing to mention them to us. She’s done it before because“she doesn’t need help,”as she likes to remindus.
“Good morning, Grams,” I say, upping the level of perkiness I tend touse.
“Oh, Emma,” she says, sounding annoyed. “I don’t know what I wasthinking.”
I pull up a chair and sit beside her. “You were thinking you’ve had enough of this bed along with all the help you need, and wanted to take a midnight stroll to see if this hospital has a bar downstairs. Am Iright?”
