Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Cassius
I haven’t blinked in hours, I swear. All I can do is stare at Chrissy to make sure she’s still breathing and hope like hell she wakes up soon.
Doctor Crouse is confident she will wake up, but waking up doesn’t mean we’re in the clear.
There could be any form of brain damage.
Something minor to something extreme. I’m well aware of how this can go.
I obsessed over it when she was younger and had seizures more often, before we got her meds right.
I’d researched the hell out of it while I was in school, to the point I’d get in trouble for not doing work.
There were only certain days we could go on the computers, but every chance I got, I was looking up seizures and epilepsy.
I never trusted my mother with Chrissy. I saw the way she took care of me and Cammy—if she couldn’t do that, there was no way she would take care of a child with this sort of disorder. And I was right.
How she had three sympathetic and caring children, I’ll never know, especially considering I’d bet my ass that our fathers are all pieces of shit too. Chrissy’s definitely is because he stood around long enough to get to know us… then he took off and didn’t look back.
It’s always been nice having Cammy help me take care of Chrissy.
It was easier than handling it myself. There is only a three year difference between Cammy and I, but I remember taking care of her when she was little.
I also remember her hitting the age when she realized our mother was an asshole and that she needed to be independent as soon as possible or she’d never survive.
It kicked in for her at four, a little younger than I was.
But that’s because she had me to help her realize it.
I had to figure it out on my own, so it took a little longer.
I don’t remember much before I started school, but I do remember that a lot of my realizations happened while I was in school and around other people.
Kids would come into class in nice clothes and with colorful, healthy snacks.
I didn’t know what fruit was until I saw it at school.
I didn’t know there was food outside of stale cereal and canned goods.
By the time Cammy learned what was going on in life, I was already seven and a pro at dealing with our mother.
I don’t remember a time when I tried to make her do what she was supposed to.
There was never any begging on my part. All my memories are of me doing what I needed to live.
I don’t remember a time when I loved her, either.
I’m convinced she ruined that when I was little. A toddler, probably, and wanted nothing to do with me, so I learned to go on without affection and love.
Maybe that’s why all of this was so easy with Harmon. I didn’t know what normal affection looked like, so why not have him boss me around and tell me to kneel for him? I wasn’t craving anything else because I didn’t know what it was. Yet it happened anyway. And pretty quickly.
If there was any part of me that was questioning love, it no longer is. I am certain of it now.
It felt right when I said it. And I loved hearing him say it. But after today… after all this thinking, I know that it’s real.
I don’t need to see what love looks like because it’s different for everyone. I know what I feel, and I love Harmon Stone.
It’s not because of what he did for us today—it’s everything. All of it together. Who he is as a person. How he makes me feel. All of it mashed together, to me, equals love.
And the fact he will not leave my sister’s side, despite it being late and him having work tomorrow… well, I guess that’s one of the reasons why I love him. He’s thoughtful, caring, and so supportive.
The constant beep, beep, beep of the machines hooked up to Chrissy have been going steady for the last eight or so hours.
She hasn’t moved, outside of breathing, and that too has been rhythmic.
Steady and slow, like it normally is when she’s sleeping.
So, when her breath stutters and she takes in a quicker, sharper breath, I jerk forward.
“Chrissy?”
The leather on the chairs crunch, as Cammy and Harmon turn their attention this way.
I get to my feet, moving to the side of her bed. Cammy is there, just as Chrissy lets out a soft whimper, frowning. Her eyes blink open, squinting as she adjusts to the light.
“I’ll get the nurse,” Harmon says, leaving the room quickly.
My chest aches and I’m holding my breath, waiting for… an answer. Waiting to know what our future will look like. Will Chrissy wake up fine, or will we have a huge change in our lives in the way we take care of our sister…
“Chrissy, how are you feeling?”
Her eyes flick to me. Good sign. But her frown deepens. She says nothing.
I run my hand over her head, her hair soft beneath my hand. “Are you in pain?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “Can you say something, please?”
Another quiet groan leaves her. Harmon walks back into the room, a nurse following after him.
“Hi, Chrissy. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”
Chrissy stares at the nurse, confusion on her face.
Still not saying a word.
My heart starts to pound. I’m going to throw up.
Cammy reaches for my hand, grabbing on tightly.
I feel Harmon close by. Just knowing he’s there if I need him is helpful, even though he can’t fix this.
If she is… if Chrissy is… it’s not fixable.
Not a single cent of Harmon’s money could make this better.
“My name is Hannah. I’m going to take your vitals, okay?” the nurse says sweetly.
“Okay,” Chrissy rasps out, and then the tears fall. I feel like I’m floating out of my body. The relief is unimaginable.
Cammy grabs onto me, hugging my arm and crying against my shoulder. I don’t hide that I’m crying too.
“Vitals look good,” Hannah says with a smile. “I’m going to get you some water. The doctor will be in here shortly.”
Cammy and I hug Chrissy, asking her a million questions. One word doesn’t mean all is well, but it’s a start.
She doesn’t answer any of our questions, but she does smile slightly. Her eyes are barely staying open, but she is more awake.
The doctor comes in and introduces himself to Chrissy, offering his hand for her to shake. She lifts it, but struggles reaching his, so he meets her the rest of the way.
“If you all could take a seat, I’ll need some room to do a few things,” Dr. Crouse says.
Begrudgingly, we grab our chairs from the side of the bed and move them back, giving him room. He goes through a series of neurological tests, and asks her questions that she answers, though quietly. The nurse comes back with the water.
“Sorry that took so long,” Hannah says, offering Chrissy a sip with a straw. She drinks and swallows only a few sips.
“Better,” she rasps out.
Maybe she wasn’t speaking because her mouth was dry? Or her throat hurt?
The doctor asks her a few more questions, checks her reflexes. Tells her to remember a list of words he gives. Asks the year. Who the president is. Stuff like that. I can barely make out what she’s saying, but she’s answering—that’s something.
“Well, Chrissy, the good news is you seem perfectly well.” Cammy grabs onto my arm, a happy cry escaping her.
“Other than being tired and maybe a headache, you should be just fine. Though, you will need to see your neurologist as soon as possible, and I am sending you home with a prescription for an emergency dose of diazepam.” He turns to look at me “If she has another seizure that reaches three minutes, you will have to administer the medication.”
“How do we give it to her if she’s seizing? Is it a needle?” Cammy asks.
“It’s rectal,” he says, giving a soft smile. “I understand it’s not ideal, but a lot of patients use this and it’s saved many lives. It was nice meeting you all. Good luck.”
He leaves the room, and Chrissy looks at us and says, “You’re not putting anything in my butt.”
We all laugh.
It’s almost four in the morning when we get home.
“I can walk up the stairs,” Chrissy argues as she shoves me away. “I’m tired but I’m not incapable.”
I hold my hands up and step back, but the moment she starts up the stairs, I go up right behind her in case she falls—I will catch her.
Cammy comes up after me with Harmon on the end.
I told him he didn’t have to stay, but he insisted.
I wasn’t going to argue because sleeping with him is nice, especially after such a stressful day.
Being held by him… it’s exactly what I need.
Chrissy goes right to her room once we’re inside.
“If you think you’re staying in there alone, you’re crazy!” Cammy calls out, sneaking into the room as Chrissy tries to shut the door.
I hear them arguing behind it.
“I don’t need your help, Cammy. I know how to get dressed.”
“Oh, well. I’ll close my eyes.”
Chrissy lets out a loud and annoyed sound, which makes me laugh.
“Glad nothing has changed,” I mutter.
“Want to change into something more comfortable?” Harmon asks.
“I’d love to take a shower.”
He kisses my cheek, letting his lips linger. “Go shower. I’ll get you if you’re needed.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, giving him a soft kiss on his lips before going into the bathroom.
I come undone in there, by the way. I want to get clean but also need a moment alone to shed the weight of the day. Tears fall down my face, mixing with the water. I let it all out, sobbing like a maniac, but when I step out of the shower, I feel a million times better.
They’re in the kitchen and dining room when I get out of the shower. Cammy is cooking something on the stove while Harmon is sitting with Chrissy at the table, staring at something she’s showing him on her phone.
“Should you be on the phone right now?” I ask, holding the towel tightly around my waist.
“Should you be walking around naked?” she retorts.
“I’m not naked, but if you want to see naked, I’ll—”
“No!” she screeches, then laughs as she covers her eyes.
Harmon laughs softly, shaking his head. I hurry to my bedroom to put on a pair of pajama pants, and when I get back to the table, there are a bunch of hot dogs on a plate in the center of the table with an open bag of hot dog buns, the bottle of ketchup and mustard.
“Mystery meat has never smelled so good,” I say as I sit down and grab a bun to shove a hot dog inside of, topping it with ketchup only.
“Honestly, I’m so hungry I’d eat oatmeal right now,” Cammy says.
Chrissy and I gasp. Then Chrissy says, “Well, I’m so hungry I’d eat peas!” And then cracks up laughing.
I chuckle and add, “Oh yeah? I’ll beat you. I’m so hungry I’d eat olives!”
“Yuck!” Cammy says, making a sour face.
“Hey, olives are good,” Harmon says.
We all go silent, until we burst into laughter. Because of course, he would think olives are good.