When he was first admitted, people were stopping by constantly. Bringing flowers and condolences. The numbershave dwindled, and now he has a small support system, composed of our families and my friends.
“You’re running yourself ragged, Jericho. You need to take a break. Go home tonight and sleep in your own bed, I’ll stay here with him,” Ema offers and I immediately shake my head. I’m not leaving him. Never. I don’t care that Ema is his mother, I need to be here by his side as much as I can. I’ve already taken people’s advice and spent time outside of the four walls of this hospital room, but I refuse to go a full night without him by my side. The house is too big and too quiet for me to sleep in alone. I prefer the steady beeping of the machines lulling me into a fitful sleep because at least then I know that they’re working to keep him alive.
“This isn’t healthy, and you know that. He would hate seeing you like this,” Rodney teams up against me and I flinch. Don’t they understand that Iknowthat? I know he would hate seeing me like this, but I can’t pull myself away. I’ll take his disappointment and irritation in me for letting myself go as long as I get to have him. That’s all I care about.
It’s been almost two full months with no progress. Two long months where we don’t know what’s happening inside that brain of Raiden’s and the doctor can’t tell us. The only affirmations we get arehe’ll wake up when he’s ready.But the question that scares me the most is the one that keeps me up at night.What if he’s never ready?What if I never get to see those brown irises I love so much? Or his rosy red cheeks? The thought of never being able to see his smile or hear his laugh wracks me to the bone and makes me want to crumple and lay on the floor until I’m a pile of bones.
“I can’t leave him,” the words are pulled from the depths of me. An ancient language that I don’t understand and can’t translate. I can’t put into words what they need me to say, because I don’t know.
“He won’t be mad if you leave him for one night Jericho.You should go see your parents, your mom was talking about a small get together tonight for Christmas. Go see your friends. Sophie is supposed to be there with Damon and they would love to see you. Damon was asking about you at Thanksgiving.” Little Damon has formed a fascination with me since Sophie started bringing him to the hospital after he gets out of school. Sophie likes to sit in with Raiden, so I’ll keep Damon entertained in the hallway. He loves playing Go Fish and there’s been many times I’ve given him way too many snacks from the vending machine down the hallway.
My mind wars with itself. The need to stay with Raiden and the want to see my parents and friends. One’s a need, that comes from my ability to control situations. The other is a want, one that doesn't want to be isolated when life is already taking a toll on me. But how can I celebrate when Raiden isn’t here to celebrate with me?
The easy answer is that I can’t.
I double down on my answer. “I can’t leave him, but I already talked to one of the nurses on the hall. He’s willing to look the other way tonight since it’s Christmas. We can all stay here with him.”
A breath of relief rushes out of Ema and the guilt I feel echoes in the small room. I’ve been keeping her from seeing her son, and the resentment I’m sure she feels is bubbling to the surface.
I should leave them to spend time with him. Just a night. He’ll be fine for a night, right?
“But, I’ll leave you two with him. I’ll be back in the morning, and you should go to my parents’ house for breakfast. My mom always makes the best brunch after a holiday.” My words are weak, but the smile that lights Rodney’s face tells me that I can suffer for one night to give them the space they need to spend with their son. “Can you call me if there are any updates though? No matter how big or small, please?”
“Of course, Jericho.” They both stand up and wrap their arms around me. Ema’s body trembles and I offer her my body to hold her steady while she works through whatever it is that she’s going through.
When we finally part, I update them and Raiden on all the progress we’ve made with the remodel. Time spent and materials, the ups and downs of doing it all ourselves. How one small thing in the beginning snowballs into something major that has to be fixed later on.
It’s been a pain in my ass to put it shortly. But in the end, it’ll all be worth it.
**
My parent’s house is brimming with Christmas decor. Fake snow, Santas and Nutcrackers covering every small nook and cranny.
Sophie has Damon dressed up in a cute holiday onesie and he’s sitting on the couch beside my dad while they watchElfwith Will Ferrel. The spaghetti scene plays as I walk around the couch to find my mom. Damon’s interested gasp has me holding in a chuckle. The most disgusting concoction of candy looks good to a child, who would have thought it?
I can hear Hollis and Connor in the kitchen with my mom, and as I round the corner the sight that greets me causes a pang of desperation. Their hands are coated in a batter mixture while my mom walks them through the steps on how to make Oreo balls, something she rarely does because she hates the tedious steps of chilling the dough between each step. Not because it’s required by the recipe, but she claims they stay better and look more edible that way. She used to have me and Raiden do it for her when she needed them, but she’s found someone else to do it now.
The helpless feeling of not being able to help Raiden hits harder than before.
How am I supposed to justacceptthe long process ofwaiting for him to wake up? I can’t, because every moment without him feels like my body is waiting at the edge of the cliff. The anxiety and fear of not knowing what’s waiting for you when a gust of wind blows you. Will it push you off or help you step towards solid ground?
The waiting game is what kills me, staring at him in that bed day after day while I try to keep myself busy so when he wakes up he’ll see that I spent my time wisely.
Has it been wise, though? Or is it more of a testament of how far I’ll go to please him, even when he can’t fully appreciate it?
“Jericho!” My mom yells and Hollis and Connor glance over their shoulders to see me. The wide smiles stretch across their mouths and I fake an enthusiastic one. It’s not fair to them when I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water, but they’ve never made me feel left out or excluded when it comes to their plans or anything to do with the business.
“Coco! It’s about damn time! Someone needs to release Connor so I can finish these balls up. He’s slowing me down,” Hollis says and Connor promptly elbows him in the side.
“You love me touching your balls.”
“For fuck’s sake, can you two not? In front of my mom… really?” I ask exasperatedly but my mom watches the interaction with a fond smile on her face.
“She’s heard worse, especially from this one. That’s why I’m her favorite,” Hollis retorts, pushing Connor further to the side away from the mixing bowl and closer to the sink. “Wash your hands, and go show Coco what we’ve been working on. I’ll finish these up.” Hollis blows a kiss to Connor and Connor rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. I quirk my brow at my mom and she shrugs her shoulders in adon’t look at memotion. She would never pick a favorite between them, but the fact she’s not arguing with Hollis’ statement has me thinking maybe she did finally pick one.
“Do you want to lick my fingers before I wash them off?” Connor asks, wiggling his fingers in my direction. I have to hold back my shiver, because that sounds like my worst nightmare. I don’t have a clue where his fingers have been, and I would rather not figure it out.
“Hard pass.”
