Chapter 15 #2
His face fell, as though he wanted to sink into the floor beneath us.
“You do,” I accused angrily. “Henry—tell me.”
He exhaled slowly, staring down at the label. “She made me promise not to say anything.”
A sharp, hot anger seared through my chest. My scars felt on fire. “Where is she?”
Henry hesitated.
“Henry, where the hell is she?”
His shoulders slumped. “Norvale Hospital. She’s been there since Wednesday morning.”
“Wednesday morning?” I repeated. “Two whole fucking days?” My voice cracked, tears choking my throat. “And no one thought to tell me? You let me worry, let me think she just—forgot about me?”
“She didn’t want you to worry,” Henry said, exasperated. “She instructed me not to. I’m sorry, Emmy, I know I should have…”
“Well, I fucking know now, don’t I,” I replied, turning away from him and storming outside.
I called Wren.
“Emerson?” There was a loud crash and Wren cursed, then apologized. “I really thought I had dealt with these opossums, but it appears I haven’t.”
“Do you think the opossums could wait and you could help me?”
“Oh, I am sure they’d love it if I left them alone, what’s wrong?”
“I need you to drive me to the hospital.”
Wren suddenly sounded alarmed. “Emmy, are you hurt?”
“No,” I replied, and a lump swelled in the back of my throat. “It’s Winnie.”
Everston didn’t have a hospital. After the accident, I was airlifted to Norvale Hospital, and I spent most of my time recovering in the burn unit.
I remember that, for the first few weeks, I would close my eyes and the only thing I could see was the outline of a Douglas fir.
I would feel heat in the areas of my body that had been burned.
It was strange: no pain, just heat. Eventually the pain set in.
I’d since gone through several debridement surgeries, and I continued needing laser surgery to repair the skin (not that it would ever fully be repaired).
I was no stranger to Norvale Hospital; my stint here earned me some double-chocolate brownies from the nurses nearly once a week and multiple high fives from Dr. Bradman.
They loved me there, and I guess you could say I grew to love them, too, for sticking with me, even in the moments I wanted to unleash the hell inside me.
But I knew why I was there then. Walking in through these doors now, I just wanted to scream into the long corridors: Why the fuck are we here again?
The nurse directed us to the oncology ward, Room 17: the same number of books Winnie and I had read together. The walk there felt like several lifetimes. I pushed open the door gently, and I could see Winnie in the bed. She looked so small, the blankets and pillows practically swallowed her.
She sat up a little when she saw us, her expression shifting to one of guilt.
“My dear Emmy,” she said softly. “I suspected I wouldn’t be able to keep this from you for very long.” She smiled softly. “And Wren! You’ve come along too.”
I couldn’t even speak.
Wren cleared her throat. “How about I go get us a coffee?” she said.
“That would be lovely, thank you, Wren,” Winnie replied.
Wren excused herself and disappeared out into the hallway. I heard her footsteps become lighter the farther away she walked.
“I was so worried about you,” I finally said.
“I know,” Winnie replied. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to be sure I knew the facts before I saw you. You’ve got so much on your plate, kid.”
“What is it?”
“I’m sick, Emmy,” she said softly. “Have been for quite some time, only it’s spread a bit too far to hold it off now.”
I shook my head. “You can’t be sick.”
“Well,” she said, and she winked at me, “how about we just pretend I’m not?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She sighed. “And ruin all that fun we were having?”
A nurse moved into the room, checking vitals and adjusting cords. She smiled brightly at Winnie. “This must be the famous granddaughter,” she said. “Nice of her to visit today, isn’t it, Ms. Langford?”
Winnie looked at me, her eyes light, twinkling. “Oh yes,” she said. “I always love seeing my granddaughter.”
I just wanted to crumble in that very moment. How many other things had I never asked her? How many more moments was I going to get with her?
Wren returned with the coffees and set them on the table beside us. I noticed the nurse was looking at her with an odd expression.
“Do I know you?” she asked, and Wren looked up at her.
“I’m not sure,” she replied casually.
“You look so familiar, do you act?”
Wren pushed her hair behind her ear. “Never in my life!” she said, but the nurse continued.
“You just look so familiar; I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
“I’ve forgotten sugar,” Wren suddenly said. “I’m just going to go grab some, Emmy, I’ll be back.”
She disappeared again, and I wanted to ask the nurse where she thought she’d seen Wren before, but then Winnie reached out her hand, with a small smile, and I felt my heart sink in my chest.
“What are we going to do?” I said, barely above a whisper. I could feel myself shrinking into the chair beside her.
She tapped the book next to her, a slim collection of poetry about birds.
“We’re going to read, of course.”