Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I n the daytime, the hospital almost seemed pleasant with its grand windows letting streams of warm summer sunlight into the lobby, soft, upbeat music playing over the speakers, and staff chattering at the lobby’s desk. Nothing about the atmosphere felt like a hospital at all.
No one ever would’ve guessed that this was the place people came to die.
After Nancy collapsed, eyes rolling back into her head, everything blurred with only snapshots of focus. Sumner easing her off the table and into his arms, keeping her from falling out of her seat. Ms. Jennings giving a shrill, theatrical wail. Aaron sipping his water as if nothing were happening.
I didn’t remember how I reacted; it all blended together like splotches of paint, creating the ugliest shade of brown.
The sunlight in the hospital windows seemed somewhat low, but I had no concept of time. I knew I left my hotel room earlier this morning around nine, but after that, I knew nothing else. My phone was in my pocket, but it weighed far too heavy for me to pull it out. There was no clock on the walls.
Suddenly, a figure appeared before me, crouching down and coming into my frame of sight. He’d pushed his golden hair out of his eyes, which glowed with concern. “Here,” Sumner said, offering something out to me. “Have something to snack on. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten.”
It took my sluggish mind several moments to catch up that he held an unopened bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. I didn’t even realize he’d moved from sitting beside me, let alone went off to find food. “Nutritious.” My voice was flat.
“The vending machine was slim pickings, and the food court closes at six on Sundays.”
So it was after six. It didn’t feel like it should’ve been that late in the day; it didn’t feel like I’d been sitting in this hard chair that long.
When I didn’t take the bag, Sumner ripped the top open, ducked his hand in, and pulled out a chip. He stretched it out to me, the worry flaring in his eyes and thawing just a bit of my numbness.
I took it. “Where’s Aaron?”
“He… didn’t come with us. You remember that?”
I did. I don’t know why I even asked; I knew Aaron hadn’t come with us. In the hectic confusion of it all, he’d asked if I wanted him to stay behind and out of the way. I’d barely batted an eye twice at him, my non-answer answer enough.
My eyes flicked to the hospital desk. “I should see if they have any more information they can give me. ”
When we’d arrived at the ER, the paramedics transferred Nancy off to a collection of doctors and nurses, and despite the fact that I’d come in with her, they restricted me. “ Are you family ?” one of them had asked, in a far rougher tone than necessary. “ If you’re not family, please move to the waiting room .”
Sometime since the ER and me moving to the lobby, Dr. Conan, who’d begun his shift, had come to find me. It was mostly to get information on what happened, and I couldn’t tell if it was for medical purposes or because he was just being nosy. Dr. Conan, despite my insistence, was tight-lipped about anything to do with Nancy’s condition. It seemed he took his doctoral vows more seriously than his marriage ones.
“I can go see,” Sumner said, rubbing his free palm over my knee. “I want half that bag gone by the time I get back, okay?”
Sumner shifted as he was about to stand up, but I grabbed his wrist, holding his hand to my leg and holding him in his crouched position. His fingers were slender, and I couldn’t help but remember the countless of times they’d curved over my own, a comforting grip. “Not yet.” My voice was as small as a child’s. “Not yet.”
He fell back firmer into his heels, continuing to peer up at me, returning to rub my knee. The touch was grounding, the slight massage giving me something to focus on. In this moment, I could pretend that his concern was because he cared about me— really cared about me. It was a delusional sort of thought, but it brought me the barest comfort. Comfort .
With his free hand, Sumner held the bag of chips out to me again.
“It’s true Nancy fashion,” I said as I dipped my hand in, pulling out a few chips and scattering them in my palm. “Making a scene when she’s meeting my fiancé for the first time.”
Sumner let out a soft breath, a laugh adjacent. “She really doesn’t want you to choose him, does she?”
“That’s one thing about Nancy—she does have good taste.”
“I thought you liked Aaron.”
Despite being weary, I raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you liked Aaron. The entire time I’ve known you, you were always pro Aaron Astor. The way you were bickering with him earlier, it didn’t seem like you liked him much at all. Is this an enemies-to-lovers thing?”
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll be the one running off with him at the end.”
“My parents would be very upset.”
Sumner smiled, which caused my lips to tip up in a mirrored response. His eyes dropped to it, and the knowledge that he looked at my mouth stalled the breath in my lungs, even in a situation such as this. It felt like a lifetime ago that I kissed him in the coat check closet, not just yesterday. A lifetime ago that I met Aaron Astor. It almost made my head hurt how much things could change in just twenty-four hours.
I let go of his wrist and my hand fell back into my lap. “It’s funny,” I murmured in a flat voice. “That no one from the country club is here. I would’ve thought everyone would be nosing their way in, desperate to try and get on Nancy’s will before she croaks. They couldn’t be bothered, I guess.”
“Who would’ve told them?”
“Ms. Jennings surely would’ve blabbed.”
“She’s here,” Sumner said. “Ms. Jennings. She came about an hour or two after we got here. You didn’t see her?”
I really had zoned out. “No.”
“She said she was going to see Dr. Conan. She didn’t come back.”
Ms. Jennings came to the hospital now to see Dr. Conan? She didn’t ride in the ambulance with Nancy and me, but came separately to see the doctor? It wasn’t that surprising, given their adulterous relationship, but for her to come visit him at work seemed strange. Unless…
I laughed once, a hollow sound. “She used him to sneak back to Nancy.” No wonder the rest of the ladies from the club hadn’t come rushing in; if Ms. Jennings spilled the beans, she would’ve had to fight for Nancy’s attention. When Nancy should’ve been resting, recuperating from whatever had her passing out to begin with, Ms. Jennings had weaseled her way in.
I shoved to my feet, dots flooding my vision from the sudden movement. “I’m going to kill her,” I declared, feeling as if I could’ve meant it.
Sumner rose to his feet, too, and this time, he was the one to grab my wrist. “Margot?—”
“It’s ridiculous!” My voice echoed in the hospital’s lobby. One of the ladies at the reception desk looked up, but discreetly, as if she, too, tried to pick up on the gossip. “Even in a situation like this, it’s all anyone thinks about. Nancy’s money, Nancy’s estate, Nancy’s financial holdings. They’re—they’re vultures. She’s dying , and they?—”
I stopped. The one word sucked all the air from my lungs and from the room, leaving me with nothing to draw on. Dying . All at once, the picture of her slumping forward at the table filled my vision, and the few chips I’d munched felt as if they’d gotten stuck in my throat.
Sumner’s hand slipped from braceleting my wrist to holding my hand, fingers curving around my palm. For one brief instant, I allowed myself to be lulled by the touch, to pretend it meant more than it did. I pulled back, severing the connection. “Don’t. Even if it’s to be comforting, don’t.” Don’t confuse me. Don’t make my heart flutter . Straightening my spine, I started toward the reception desk and the peeping woman behind it.
I only got a few steps away, though, before Nancy, Dr. Conan, and Ms. Jennings all came around the corner of the hallway. Dr. Conan was behind her manning the handles, directing her toward us with a phony smile on his face, and Ms. Jennings walked at his side. Nancy’s expression was in its usual stony grimace. She had on a pair of scrubs with a plastic bag of her clothes in her lap, the knitted blanket long gone.
“Here’s our lovely lady,” Dr. Conan said as he wheeled her closer.
“You’re discharging her?” I demanded.
“Leave it, Margot,” Nancy snapped, finally strength in her voice. She looked better; at least, she didn’t look so gray. Her eyes still drooped, though, like she could fall asleep and rest for a long while. “Quit fussing.”
“Yes, Margot, don’t be so fussy,” Ms. Jennings piped in, laying her hand on Nancy’s bony shoulder. “She doesn’t need the stress.
I squared my jaw at her tone, clenching my teeth around a frustrated sound. “You passed out at dinner.”
“I was a little tired, that’s all.”
“The paramedics couldn’t wake you. Your blood pressure was?—”
“Hot stuff, can you wheel me to the car?” Nancy asked Sumner, cutting me off as cleanly as if I weren’t speaking. “I’ve already signed all the paperwork.”
Sumner looked around all of us before reaching a hand into the pocket of his khakis to pull out the key fob. “I’ll go bring it around.” He looked prepared for me to argue, but I remained stonily silent.
Nancy watched Sumner’s retreating figure, and even though her eyes had been slow to blink, they were certainly fixated on one thing. “You think he does squats?”
“Definitely,” Ms. Jennings murmured, also gawking.
They both ignored my burning glare completely, but of course they did. I switched focus. “Dr. Conan.” I let his name hang in the air, my clear questioning of his license hanging along with it.
He pressed his lips into a line and shrugged. “It’s what she wants, Margot.”
“So, she’s leaving against medical advice?”
Nancy turned her head ever so slightly, threatening with her side eye, and Dr. Conan straightened his shoulders. “I can’t answer that.”
The bag of chips crumpled in my ruthless grip, but it was either the plastic or the doctor’s neck. He must’ve seen the dark look on my face, because he suddenly claimed he was being paged and bid us both a rushed farewell. He gave Ms. Jennings a look that said I’ll call you .
“Where’d your other lover boy go?” Nancy asked, readjusting the bag in her lap. “Couldn’t bother to accompany a poor little old lady to the hospital?”
“Why would he?” I asked coldly. “If you were just a little tired ?”
Nancy smacked her lips. “I don’t care for your tone.”
“Oh, you don’t care for it? I should change my tone, then, shouldn’t I? Because it only ever matters what you want.”
“Stop throwing a tantrum like a child.” Nancy stopped playing with the plastic of her bag and reached for the guards on her wheels. Her grouchy expression matched her voice. “It’s irritating.”
Before she had a chance to wheel more than an inch, my hand slammed down on the arm rest of her wheelchair, jolting her to a halt. “ You’re irritating,” I said, repeating her insult like the child she accused me of being. “You’re acting like your blood pressure dropping that low is normal . That it’s normal to just pass out at a dinner table. That it’s normal to have to be rushed to the hospital.”
“It’s a good thing they hadn’t served the food yet, or else I’d have fallen face-first into my baked potato.”
“You think all this is funny ?”
Nancy glared at me. “What, you think I actually dropped dead at the table?”
I didn’t reply. Instead, the image of her falling over in her wheelchair, as gray as a corpse, flashed through my mind. The words that’d been screaming on repeat followed. Not yet, not yet, not yet . My eyes burned.
Nancy smacked her lips again. “Margot,” she began, huffing at what she probably decided was an overreaction. “I’m old. I’m going to drop dead sometime. You’ll have to get over it.”
“At least have the decency not to do it while I’m watching.”
“If you’re going to act like a crybaby like this, I won’t.” Nancy swatted my hand off her wheelchair, but didn’t reach for the rails again. “If you were this invested in other people, they might like you more.”
Her words were a lash against my skin, biting and painful. It was hardly any different than the barking way we normally spoke to each other, but in that moment, I could’ve screamed. It built in my throat, the pressure about to explode.
Nancy turned up to look at Ms. Jennings. “Ally, drive me home, would you? At least I know you won’t be sniveling the entire ride. Let’s stop by the gift shop first, hmm?”
Ms. Jennings was all too happy to oblige, stepping behind Nancy’s wheelchair and pushing her forward. When I turned around to watch them go, Sumner was there, a few feet away, awkwardly inching closer to the tense conversation. His expression oozed concern and worry and it made the compression in my throat worse.
Anger consumed me, so inexplicable but hot . Unthinkable around. I couldn’t remember the last time rage had consumed me so fully; not even my parents had elicited it in all their demands and patronizing. “And you wonder why I’m not a happy person,” I muttered, only half wanting him to hear. “Tell me, Sumner—what’s there to be happy about?”
For once, I’d struck the ever-witty Sumner Pennington speechless. He pressed his lips together, at a loss.
As I stormed outside, my body trembled with the anger, and the hot summer air didn’t help. My car was waiting on the curb, and I had a brief, exhilarating thought of taking it. Of climbing into the driver’s seat and leaving Sumner behind. I’d top out the speedometer, race away as far and as fast as I could. It wouldn’t matter where I ended up; Bayview, New York, a ditch—as long as I got away from here.
Instead, I ripped open the passenger door and fell into the seat, slamming it shut with a force that shook the car.
I wiped my cheek, my fingers coming away wet, and it only incensed me further. Emotions were stupid. Pointless. And I refused to give into them again.