19. Now
Chapter 19
Now
T he PA system at Sloane Memorial jolts me out of a rocky sleep. I shift my head from side to side, but trying to stretch out the strain of sleeping in an uncomfortable waiting room chair with my head pushed against the wall is impossible. I wince, adjusting to the harsh lights. There’s consistent beeping in the background and an angry tone that draws me fully awake.
“What’s going on?” My voice is groggy.
Amy looks up from the book she’s reading in the chair across the aisle and half smiles at me. “Oh good, you’re awake. Will you please help them settle this debate so we can move on?”
“There is no way he’s the baby daddy.” Jase’s gaze doesn’t lift from the old episode of Maury that’s airing.
“Yes, he is!” Nana shouts. “The baby looks like Ryan.”
“Ryan’s the baby daddy,” Amy adds.
“ Suspected baby daddy,” Jase amends.
“How long was I asleep?” The clock on the wall reads nine a.m. … three hours of sleep after being up all night in the emergency room awaiting some sort of news. “What’d I miss?”
Amy shakes her head. “Just whatever this is about.” She gestures between Jase and Nana, both heated in the father or not debate.
“Whatever what’s about?” Mama asks as she enters the waiting room. A weary Pop shuffles in by her side.
We all stand, palms sweaty, facing Mama, anxious for an update.
Nana steps forward and places her hand on Mama’s shoulder. “How’s Andy doing?”
Mama wobbles backwards, then recovers. She runs her hand through her long, dark hair and sighs. For the first time, I notice the gray strands shining under the fluorescent lights. There are dark circles under her eyes, and her frame droops deeper than yesterday.
“He’s...” Mama swallows, and I can hear the gulp. “Not doing well. He’s going to have to stay in the ICU for at least a few days while they run some tests and continue to monitor him.”
“What happened, Mama?”
Jase moves to help Mama sit down on the nearest chair and holds her hand.
She sniffles. “They said he was having a fine day. He had a slice of pizza and a cup of pudding for lunch, and a short while later, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he started seizing.”
I lean forward. “What could have caused it?”
“The doctors said it’s a side effect of one of the meds he’s on, and they’ve put him on something else, but he’s not out of the woods yet.”
“Sure, but what needs to happen for them to say he’s going to be okay?”
Mama rocks her head from side to side. “I don’t know. They asked us to step out for a few minutes.”
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
She waves me over and pats the seat on the other side of her.
I sit beside Mama and lean back. “You know, these seats aren’t exactly comfortable, but if you want to try and nap on my shoulder, I’m sure Jase could find a blanket for you.”
He stands. “Yes, I’ll be right back.”
“Oh no, it’s okay,” she rebuts.
Jase is already gone, and Mama’s almost asleep on my shoulder, anyway.
Nana stands as Pop grabs her hand to help her up. “Maybe they’ll let me see Andy when they’re done pricking him. Want me to stick him once for you, Katie girl?”
I smirk and mouth, No, thank you .
Nana’s way through a depressing time is to crack a joke. She’s already told me she’d prefer her funeral to be a standup show than a cry fest.
Amy nods as Nan and Pop head toward Dad’s room. “Here for you,” she mouths.
Jase turns the corner back into the waiting area.
Amy pretends to read, but I see her eye glancing over the pages to watch him cover Mama in a blanket, tucking her in as best as he can in a hospital guest chair.
“Thank you.”
The blanket has Sloane High School imprinted on it, and I question him with my eyes.
“I keep a blanket in my car for emergencies.”
“I don’t think my mama would want to be covered in a blanket you’ve rolled around on with unknown company.”
Jase has the decency to step back, his expression hurt. “I think you’ve confused me with my brother.”
“Jack’s gotten his act together, I hear.” I’m aware my voice is a little too loud, but as Mama snores, I relax a bit, knowing I didn’t wake her with my outburst.
Jase snorts. “Is that what he was telling you at the Pumpkin Festival?”
I adjust, trying not to disturb Mama. “Who told you we were talking at the Pumpkin Festival?”
Amy sets her book face down in her lap, eyebrows up, fully invested in this story.
Jase shrugs. “Oh, you know, no one and everyone.”
“You better shut your mouth, Jason Cole. This is how things without merit make their way through the town.”
He laughs. “Oh, I know full well how it turns out. There’s no truth to it?” His voice is a little light, almost hopeful, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
I pretend to gag. “Ew, he’s like a brother to me.”
Jase shutters. “He is a brother to me, so, good.”
Our gazes lock. It’s like a moment years ago when the only thing that mattered was him and me. His green eyes shine into mine, and I can’t remember anything but how much I love him. Loved him —past tense, back then, before I grasped how much a broken heart aches.
Amy clears her throat.
I blink and turn away from Jase.
Nana strolls into the room in a huff. They wouldn’t let her see Dad because his health is too fragile to allow for visitors right now. When they allow people back in, it’ll be one at a time.
Pop shrugs and takes a seat.
I stand, put my hands on my lower back, and stretch. “I’m going to grab some coffee from the cafeteria. Anyone want anything?” Several arms raise. “All right, a round of coffee coming on up.”
“I’ll go with you.” Jase stands.
Amy beats him to it and points to the chair he vacated. “Read the room, lover boy.”
Wordlessly, he sits back down.
Amy tips her ball cap toward him and follows me into the hall.
My best friend waits for the elevator doors to close before turning her attention to me. “Where were you yesterday that Jase gave you a ride to the hospital?”
Pushing the button for the lobby, I sigh. “I needed to see him. I … can’t explain it.”
“I can.”
“Care to share?”
The elevator doors open, and we ride to the cafeteria.
“I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I haven’t seen you look at anybody like that the entire time I’ve known you.”
I glance at my watch. “It’s because I hate him, and the list of people I hate is very small. In fact, both people on it are in this hospital. There’s something for you.”
“I don’t believe that.” She reaches for the coffee carafe. “I don’t think you ever hated Jase, or your dad, for that matter. I think you hate what they did to you, and I think you hate how you reacted, but I don’t think you truly hate them.”
I blink away. It doesn’t matter. The two men I cared about most in the world broke my heart. I’m not dumb enough to let them do it again … am I?
Amy pours another cup of coffee and waves her hands in front of my face. “How much cream for Nana?” Her foot tap and eye twitch tell me it’s not the first time she’s asked.
“Grab a few. She can put them in upstairs.”
She stirs hazelnut creamer in her own coffee and places it in a carrier while I toss her analysis over and over again in my mind. You know, even I’m ashamed to admit Jase is chinking my best friend armor. Blame the way he looks at you and the far-out gaze you get on your face every time his name comes up.”
I pick up the coffee carrier and walk to the elevator while Amy grabs the last coffee and follows me. “Are we done here?”
“Okay, okay. Let me ask one more thing,” she begs.
I relent. “Fine.”
Amy holds up her pinkie. “You have to promise me you’ll make me your maid of honor when you get married.”
“Ame.”
“I know, I know, you ‘don’t love him.’ Except you totally do, and he loves you, too, or he wouldn’t have driven you here, much less sat in the waiting room all night.”
Maybe. I intertwine my pinky with hers.
The elevator dings, and the doors open wide to a sleepy Jase, standing there, jacket on, looking ready to leave. He slips his phone into the front pocket of his blue jeans and shifts his expression to us. “Oh man, a pinkie promise? I interrupted something serious.”
Amy and I unwind our pinkies and shift our free hands back down.
“Coffee?” Amy hands Jase his cup.
“Sure. Thank you.” He accepts the cup for what it is: part caffeine, part peace offering.
Amy pulls the holder from my hands. “I’ll be taking those.” She walks back to the waiting room, leaving me alone with Jase by the elevators.
“I, uh, don’t think the door can close with how you’re standing, so …” His voice drops, and I jump forward.
“Are you leaving?” Please don’t. I try steadying my voice, but I can’t hide the note of disappointment.
He digs his hands into his front pockets and squints his right eye closed. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I have to go open the bar, but I can come back tonight if you want?”
I kick an invisible rock on the floor. “No, it’s okay. Thank you for bringing me and staying through the night.”
“Of course.” He steps closer and pushes the down button to call the elevator. It opens, and Jase moves inside. “Hey, Kay?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m here if you need to talk about … you know, all of this.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
He tips his hat, and as the door closes, I let my mind wander—to all the could have, should have, would have beens. To the where would-our-life-be nows—if he hadn’t broken my heart and if I hadn’t left.