Two days later, Marta Clarke was finally transferred from the ICU to a regular hospital room and insisted on meeting me, and it goes without saying how nervous I was.
It was like meeting the mom of a... boyfriend? Friend with benefits? I didn't even know what we were anymore. Ever since Ethan had declared himself and I saw in Logan the urge to do the same, my heart and mind had been a mess.
However, none of that was the focus right now, so I push it to the back of my mind again and follow Ethan into the room.
The woman with black hair and brown eyes is lying in the hospital bed, but with the back raised up high. She still has the catheter in her neck, which wouldn't be coming out anytime soon, but she looks more flushed and stronger than I expected for a person who'd been through so much.
"You must be the famous Charlotte," Marta says the moment I walk in, and I smile shyly, approaching the bed.
"Yes, ma'am." My answer makes her wave her hand.
"None of that ma'am business here. Call me Marta," she asks and holds out a hand toward me. "And come here so I can see you properly. These boys never remember to bring my glasses."
That pulls a little laugh out of me, and I do what she asks. She takes my left hand between hers and gives it a few little pats.
"There we go! You're even prettier than in the photos my son showed me," she says, and I blush a little.
"Thank you. I'm glad you're doing well," I say honestly, and the woman smiles tenderly, without letting go of me.
"Thank you for staying here all this time just to support my son. I owe a lot to you and that boy over there in the doorway." She points with her chin, and I turn my face to see Logan leaning against the frame. "Got shy all of a sudden, Logan Hayes? Get over here!"
Logan cracks up and comes closer on the other side of the woman's bed. Marta takes his hand too.
"I just didn't want to intrude, Mrs. Clarke."
"Are we back to this ma'am business? I've known you since that pretty voice of yours was still cracking through puberty!" she accuses, and I press my lips together to keep from laughing. Ethan doesn't mind it and laughs, earning a look of fake anger from the blond.
"Sorry, Marta," he asks, and she nods, satisfied.
"How are your mom and sister?"
"Really well. Jamie got into Harvard early and is bursting with excitement," he says, and Marta declares her pride and makes him promise to send her regards to his family.
After that she turns her attention to me.
"Tell me about yourself, dear. I want to know everything," she asks, and I get a little shy, but I try to sum it up.
"Well... I'm studying computer science and I work as a teacher's assistant for the statistics class. I grew up in Hanover and my family still lives there. My dad died when I was little and my mom never remarried. She's a doctor. I don't have siblings, but I have my cousin, Maddie, who's practically like one," I say almost in one breath, and Marta keeps the tender smile on her face. "And I think that's it."
"I'm sorry about your dad, but I'm glad your mom managed to raise you on her own and turn you into this pretty girl in front of me," she compliments, and I blush.
"Thank you."
"Ethan had already told me several things about you, but it's nice to put the stories to a real face," she remarks, and I just nod, because I don't know what to say. She stares at me for long seconds, with that expression typical of moms who are just waiting for their kids to reveal their secrets already, because she's going to find out one way or another.
Unfortunately, I don't know what she's expecting me to reveal.
"But tell me. Are these lovesick little eyes meant for my Ethan, or for our Logan here?"
Oh.
So that was it.
I stammer, and I'm sure the redness of my face is already spreading down to my chest. I trade a look with Logan and then Ethan, trying to get them to telepathically tell me what I should answer. Since that doesn't happen, I go back to looking at her and try to form the words, but it doesn't seem to be necessary anymore.
"Oh." Marta's eyes widen a little. "Oh. I see. It's both of them."
My body freezes and I don't even try to deny it. I stand there waiting for her reaction, whether it be the curses, the outrage, or the suggestion that I should try an exorcism for my sins.
