Chapter 27
NOAH STOOD IN THE DOORWAY with two small cartons of chocolate milk.
I sat up, haphazardly wiping the messy tears from my face as it dawned on me that I wasn’t even slightly presentable.
There hadn’t been any time to change out of my old plaid pajama pants and ratty Harry Potter T-shirt from well over a decade ago, no spare moment to comb my hair or brush my teeth or dab on concealer in the minutes between waking up and rushing to the hospital to be by Edith’s side.
“I thought I might find you here,” he said, his voice soft.
“How did you—”
“Your dad. I ran into him.”
“But—what are you doing here?” I sputtered, dabbing my runny nose with the back of my hand and standing up. He stepped in slowly, cautiously. I crossed my arms, self-conscious.
“I needed to see you.” He paused, looking at Edith. “How is she?”
“I don’t know. She’s been asleep.” We both watched her for a few moments.
“She seems stable, at the very least.” He nodded encouragingly. I sat back down and turned my attention to Edith, remembering that I was upset with him. Already, my decision to not see him again had been undone. But at least if he insisted on being here, I could keep him at arm’s length.
“Jane,” he said. I did my best to ignore the fact that I could smell his now familiar cologne from where I sat. A few beats passed before I decided to acknowledge his conversational bid.
“What?” I kept my eyes fixed on Edith.
“Can we talk?”
“I have to stay here. I have to be here when she wakes up,” I said, my voice cool.
“I know. Linda’s here, though. She’ll keep an eye on her for you while you take a few minutes to talk to me. It’s her job.”
I searched for a response. Nothing substantive came. “I don’t really have anything to say.”
“Well, I do.”
I pulled my eyes away from Edith and met Noah’s pleading gaze. He held up the chocolate milk cartons. “What do you say?”
He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. And it could be hours before Edith woke up.
We vacated her room and relocated to a table by the window in the cafeteria, overlooking the snowplowed parking lot. SUVs rolled in and out as patients and healthcare workers and families ambled back and forth.
Noah slid my carton across the table and ripped open his own.
I reluctantly pushed the flaps back and tore the container open.
I hated to give him the satisfaction, wishing he hadn’t remembered my penchant for chocolate milk.
But at this moment, as I felt the scaffolding of my life collapse, I desperately needed the comfort it offered. I took a small sip.
“What did you want to talk about?”
Noah sucked in a deep breath. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.
” His gaze felt like a microscope. He looked at me too deeply, sincerely, closely.
I dropped my eyes and allowed them to wander around the cafeteria, taking note of the faded periwinkle walls, the little girl shoveling Jell-O into her mouth a few tables over, the linoleum flooring that had probably been a pristine white at one point.
“For what?”
“For what happened. With Alice,” he said. “I was totally caught off-guard. I had no idea she’d be there. And I didn’t know what to do.”
A cocktail of embarrassment and discomfort welled up inside me. I didn’t want his pity, didn’t want an explanation, didn’t want to be sitting here in this shabby food hall. “Noah,” I cut in. “Look, you don’t need to do this. Really. It’s okay if you want to get back together with her. I get it.”
His eyebrows wrinkled. “What?”
“I’m just saying, I understand. You have a lot of history with Alice, and—”
“No,” he interrupted. “I don’t want her back. Jane . . . I like you. A lot.”
My eyes flew over to him, taken aback both by his candidness and by the words I’d pictured coming out of his mouth more than once throughout high school—the words I’d never thought would be real.
But none of those visions had involved me sitting in a hospital dining hall, scruffy and makeup free and tear-stained. Oddly, though, the moment I was living in was better than anything I’d dreamed up. It was real.
“You do?” I squeaked.
“Yeah, wasn’t it obvious? I wouldn’t lend my jacket to just anybody.”
Without thinking, I let a little chuckle escape my lips.
It was the first smile I’d cracked since leaving his show the night before.
Noah’s ability to draw me out, to get a laugh from me when I felt my life going off the rails, was baffling to me.
I’d never come across anyone who could do that.
I’d grown fond of it over the past week.
“I’ve been kind of reserved about coming out and saying it. Because I know you’re leaving soon. And, I don’t know, it didn’t feel fair to you to throw a wrench in the works like that.”
The reminder of my impending departure and the shadow of uncertainty that now lay thick over my future brought on a pang of anxiety, especially with Edith in such a vulnerable state.
How could I hop on a flight back to JFK when she was still so fragile?
When Carmichael wasn’t taking my manuscript? When, apparently, Noah liked me?
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” I sighed, taking another swig of chocolate milk.
“What do you mean?”
I opened my mouth to respond when a voice from across the cafeteria called out: “Jane!”
Linda stood at the entrance, beckoning me over. “Edith is awake, sweetheart. She’s asking for you.” The three of us hurried over to Edith’s room at lightning speed. Noah insisted that I go in alone first while he waited in the hall. Linda said she’d give my mom an update for me.
I carefully shut the door behind me. My eyes instantly welled up with tears at the sight of Edith’s soft, sleepy grin, the smile I’d almost lost forever. I rushed over to her, folding her into a careful embrace.
“Oh, Edith. I thought you—I was so worried that—” I wept, my voice shaking.
“I know.” She stroked my hair with a feeble hand. I broke away, pulled my chair closer to her bedside, and took her hand.
“How are you? How do you feel?” I inspected her.
“Oh, I’m all right, dear. A little confused when I first woke up, but the kind nurse reminded me where I was.
” Edith let out a weary sigh. “I’m just glad to still be in one piece.
” Her speech slow, she recounted the events that led to her fall.
She’d gotten up in the middle of the night for a glass of water.
Because she hadn’t turned the lights on, she missed a stair and went tumbling down.
“You’d think after living in the same house for fifty years, I might know those steps a little bit better.
But my mind . . . it’s just not doing what it used to. ” Edith’s eyes grew misty.
“I’m so sorry, Edith. That must’ve been terrifying.”
“It was. But it’s okay. I’ve put a lot of miles on myself.”
I giggled through tears. “Stop it. You’re not a Honda.” A soft smile flickered across her face. I basked in it.
“No, but I’ve lived quite a bit of life. God’s given me a good run. But this is no doubt a sign. That I need to slow down. That this era is coming to an end and another one is beginning.”
Another bout of tears pricked my eyes. I fought them down with a sniff. Edith tsked. “Ah, look at your poor eyes. They’re all red.” Her hand trembled as she raised it to cup my chin. “I hope all those tears you’ve been crying weren’t all on my behalf.”
“Half of them were.”
“And what were the other half for?”
“Oh, everything’s just . . .” A knot formed in my throat. I couldn’t swallow it. “Everything’s falling apart. That’s all.”
“Oh, is that all?” she asked, attempting to squeeze my hand with her limited grip. “What’s falling apart, my girl? Tell me.”
I summarized the roller coaster of emotions I’d been on in the last twelve hours alone—the confusion surrounding Noah, the rejection from Carmichael, the divide between my life back in New York and my growing desire to be here.
“I’m just so mixed up,” I sighed.
“Jane,” she said, her eyes fixed on me, “This isn’t the medication talking, so listen to me.
There is so much ahead for you. You feel lost right now.
I know. But I promise you—and I want you to hear me when I say this—you won’t stay lost forever.
Not when God is preparing a way for you.
Take heart. There is a way forward, and you will find it. ”
I nodded, her words acting as a salve to an open wound. None of what had transpired over the last week—over the last day—made any sense. I was disoriented, anxious. I didn’t know what was ahead.
Maybe it was only because I needed all the solace I could get my hands on, but my mind steadily settled into the comforting notion that eventually the fog would clear.
And that, perhaps, there was a God who was still at work.
If I felt my life was in shambles, and nothing was going according to plan, maybe that was because it was going somewhere new.
Somewhere I hadn’t thought of on my own. Maybe.
A nurse popped her head in. “Hi, Edith. I heard you were awake. I’m just stopping by to give you something to eat.” She rolled in a tray of Jell-O, apple juice, and broth.
After she helped Edith eat, we turned on the TV and caught an episode of Poirot, a murder mystery series based on Agatha Christie’s beloved mustachioed Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot. Noah joined us, and we took turns predicting who the killer was. Much to my chagrin, Noah got it right.
“How did you know? Have you read Christie before?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Just a lucky guess.”
Edith urged him to read one of her favorites, And Then There Were None. “Jane has a copy you can borrow, I believe,” she said with a coy smile.
In between periodic visits from nurses and other concerned townspeople, Mom stopped by a while later, both to check on Edith and to catch up with Linda.
“I’m going to head home,” she said, poking her head into the room. “You’re welcome to come with me. Or not,” she added, shooting an obvious glance at Noah. Mom, I almost groaned.
“Uh . . .” I stalled. I wasn’t quite ready to leave Edith’s side. In part because worry for her still brewed in my chest, but also because the only thing keeping me steady right now was the refuge of her presence.
“I can take you home later if you want to stay longer,” Noah offered.
Mom nodded and bowed out. We filled the rest of the day by reading articles from the arts section of the paper to Edith, doing crosswords, watching Detective Poirot solve the most perplexing crimes using his “little gray cells,” and eating turkey and cheddar sandwiches from the cafeteria.
Before we knew it, the sun had gone to sleep, making way for the dusky sky.
I glanced away from the TV and over to Edith.
Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and sinking at a perfect, regular rhythm.
It was time to let her get some rest. I lightly kissed her cheek, and we quietly snuck out of the room.
Noah’s old truck sat in the parking lot, one of the few cars left. We climbed in, and the engine came alive. He rolled out of the parking lot slowly, looking both ways, as if there was ever more than one car cruising by in Avila Falls.
I chuckled. “What would your high school self think of your grandpa-esque driving habits?”
He flashed a grin. “He’d think I must’ve finally learned my lesson after all those speeding tickets in junior year.”
The journey to my parents’ home was short. Shorter than I wanted it to be. I unbuckled my seat belt as he pulled into the driveway. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome.”
I paused for a few moments, wanting to prolong every bit of time with him. I felt his eyes on me and met them. He smiled softly. Slowly, cautiously, he reached out and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. My heart danced. “Good night, Jane.”
“Good night, Noah,” I whispered, wishing I could remain in this moment with him just a little bit longer, a moment in which a rejection from a publisher didn’t matter, in which I didn’t feel so alone, in which everything might be okay.
I willed myself to open the door and stepped out.