67
POLLY
The first thing I see when I exit the hospital is that familiar green pickup truck.
Hank.
When he sees me, he jumps out of the driver’s seat, leaving his truck behind, even though this is not a parking zone, and in another thirty seconds, someone will come over and tell him so. But right now, he couldn’t care less.
“Polly!” he cries. “What are you doing here?”
He looks really freaked out. His hat is lopsided, and his coat is unzipped, revealing his oil-stained flannel shirt. When he reaches me, he grabs me by the shoulders like he’s afraid I’m going to run away.
“Everything is fine,” I say. “I promise.”
“But—” His eyes dart around the entrance to the hospital. “Why are there so many cop cars around here?”
“Don’t worry. They’re not here for me.”
He inspects my face, not sure if he should believe me.
“I promise,” I say. “I’m free to leave. But my car is in the lot.”
“Leave it overnight,” he says. “We’re going home in my truck.”
I can’t blame him for not wanting to let me out of his sight. And truth be told, I’m not excited about trekking back to my car without my coat. So I obligingly climb into the passenger seat of his truck.
Hank revs up the engine, and I rub my hands together to stay warm. The kitchen shears jab me slightly against my thigh, and I shiver, thinking about an alternate reality where I went through with my misguided plan. In that reality, I would either be dead or on my way to prison right now instead of riding home in a warm truck with my husband. I’m glad I’m living in this reality.
“I think you’re right,” I say. “I should make another appointment with Dr. Salinsky.”
Hank glances over at me. He doesn’t say anything, but he puts his hand on my knee and gives it a squeeze.
“I love you, Hank,” I say.
“I love you too, Polly.” His deep voice breaks. “More than anything.”
And then I rest my head against his big, broad chest, and he puts his arm around my shoulders, holding me tightly like everything he cares about is right here in the truck, in the seat next to him. Every pore of his body radiates love for me.
Someday, your family will be complete.
I’ve spent so many years of my life focusing on the child I wanted so badly. But Hank is my family, and he’s given me more love than I would have gotten from a dozen kids. It took almost losing everything to realize how blessed I am.
A year after her death, I finally see the wisdom in my mother’s words. I’ve got Hank and he’s got me, and our family is complete. And now we’re going home together to have a nice quiet night, just the two of us.
“Let’s go home,” I tell him.
He nods and puts the truck in drive.
Except a quiet evening is not what the night has in store for us. Because after Hank drives us back to our house, I see the police lights flashing before we even reach our driveway.
Tegan told them what we did. It’s all over.
They’re here to take Hank and me to jail.