I’m not sure if I imagine it or not, but I think there’s a flicker of movement in her fingers in mine. And then I’m being pulled away by a small but surprisingly strong nurse. “We have to take her up for testing. I’m sorry.”
I swipe at my cheeks and back away with a nod. They’ve already unlocked the wheels on her bed and are pushing her out of the bay, multiple people following with tubes, wires, and machines in their hands or hooked on her gurney.
“I love you,” I call out hoarsely as they push her around the corner and out of sight.
Lou first texted me as Hunter was driving us to the ER, because as soon as she walked into the empty condo with my almost-finished dinner sitting cold in various pans on the stove, she went straight to worst-case scenario: that something happened tome. When I told her Farmor collapsed and Hunter drove me to the hospital, all she sent back was a plethora of shocked and heartbroken emoji.
I don’t know how long we’ve been sitting on hard plastic chairs in the ER waiting room, silent and cold with dread, when I hear familiar voices.
“Where is she? Do you see them?”
“It’s a waiting room full of sick people in masks.Youfind them!”
For the first time, as I hear my two friends, it occurs to me that I should have asked for an N95 mask before sitting in this waiting room full of sick people. Mom gasps softly, her gaze flying to mine, eyes wide with alarm. It’s a testament to how completely out of our minds with fear we are, that neither of us thought to protect me from the plethora of viruses here.
Mom jumps to her feet, practically sprinting to the desk, while I shrink backward in my chair, ducking my chin toward my scarred chest.
“What’s going on?” Hunter follows my mom’s mad dash with his eyes before looking to where I’m cowering as if it will do any good.
“We forgot I can’t get sick,” I whisper.
Before he can question me further, Talia and Lou see us and rush over.
“What happened?” Talia bursts out.
“What’s going on?” Lou’s eyes are wide.
“Why are you sitting in this waiting room full of germs?”
“Is Farmor okay?”
Their questions tumble out over and on top of each other—making it impossible to answer any of them. If I even had any answers to give.
“Hunter, what are you still doing here?” Lou turns to her cousin when I remain silent.
Hunter glances at me, then back at Lou. “Waiting to see if she’s okay—and if Olivia or her mom need anything.”
Lou’s eyebrows lift. “That’s thoughtful of you.”
“They weren’t going to give me the N95 mask!” My mom returns, pushing through Talia and Lou, N95 mask in hand. “They wanted me to take one of those flimsy, useless ones on the desk. I had to explaineverythingto the receptionist to get them to go get one.” With an angry huff, my mom pulls out hand sanitizer from her purse, douses my hands with it, and then gives me the mask, which I quickly put on. “It was nice of you girls to come, but there’s no news. And we don’t know how long it will be.”
“Then we’ll wait with you,” Lou announces, plopping down in the seat next to Hunter, who sits next to me.
We all fall silent, five of us in a row on the chairs now, waiting yet again for a doctor to come tell us the fate of someone we love.
Well, except Hunter. He doesn’t love my farmor; he doesn’t even really know her. But a small, alarming part of me is grateful for the reassuring warmth and size of him next to me, so I don’t say anything about him staying.
I have no idea if it’s been minutes or hours when the same doctor who spoke to us in the trauma bay finally walks into the waiting room, scanning the chairs until he spots us.
A pit of grief forms within me, hollowing me out even before he reaches us. I’ve been in too many hospitals; I’ve dealt with too many doctors. I know what the quiet resignation on his face means.
“Mrs. Karlsson,” he says without preamble, “the tests confirmed my suspicions. Can you follow me to my office so we can talk? Your children may come, too, if you wish.”
My mom is as white as the wall behind her, but she nods and forces herself to her feet. An inexplicable numbness spreads through me—perhaps my body preparing for the blow to come.
I follow behind Mom and the doctor. I don’t even think to see if Hunter, Lou, and Talia follow or wait. It’s all I can do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, forcing myself to walk forward into a future where I may never get to tell Farmor I’m sorry and that I love her.
We file into a room that says Family Counseling Room on the plaque outside the door.
