Chapter 30 Gracie Mae
Gracie Mae
The scent of antiseptic hits my nostrils first. And you would think of all the times I've set foot in a hospital the smell wouldn't be as poignant. Yet it hits me the same every time and the smell won't leave for days. It's as if it imbeds itself in my clothing and sinks in my skin.
With Oak's larger hand swallowing mine we walk side by side to the reception area of the hospital.
The woman whom I had spoken with on the phone, June, is sitting behind the curvature counter with her workspace in front of her. Stopping in front of her I take a deep breath and with a voice that doesn't waver I acknowledge myself. "Gracie Mae Vale, here for Vivian Vale, my mother."
Oak gives my hand another squeeze and I take another deep breath.
June's eyes meet mine sadly yet there is no sympathy in her voice as she informs me, "In the ICU, room number 207. I'll have the doctor meet you there to go over her diagnosis and discuss her prognosis."
I nod my head; afraid my words may fail me.
What if her prognosis is death?
Oak leads me down the hallway that feels colder the further we travel down it.
And I can't help my mind from thinking, maybe it's getting colder because death is here to claim her.
The room number 207 comes before us and the dark clouds surrounding me feel as if they are closing in.
Her fate lies behind those doors and I can't do anything to help it.
"I'm here, baby. I'm not leaving your side," Oak promises me. His front is pressed against my back and the warmth his body emits soothes me.
"I can do this," I say more to myself but he hears the low murmur.
His hands cup my shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Yes, you can. You're strong, Grace. Remember I always have faith in you."
I take another deep breath with the hopes of it gathering me more strength, but it doesn't. It only buys me another moment before greeting the inevitable.
With a hand that surprisingly doesn't shake I open the door to my mom's room.
As I take the first step inside I immediately hear the heart monitor. It rings louder than everything else, as if it's on full blast. The fact that I hear her heart beat should calm me but it does nothing of the sort.
Because how long will her heart beat until it finally gives out from all the abuse she's inflicted upon it?
With Oak's hand at the small of my back he helps lead me further into the room.
And then I see her.
A breathing tube is placed in her mouth and I know the tube continues it's descent down her esophagus. IV's are hooked in her veins; except this time it's filled with medicine and not toxic drugs. Her skin is alabaster white and the bruises that have bloomed on her arms are vivid in color.
She looks so frail, as if one touch from me can break her bones.
Her hair, once the same voluminous and sandy blonde as mine is dirty and lifeless. It's thinned out drastically over the years due to her drug use but seeing it under the fluorescent lights I can see the few bald spots.
She used to be so achingly beautiful. Now looking at her I hardly recognizable the woman I adored.
Tears burn at the back of my eyes remembering the woman she used to be. The woman who was a loving and caring mother.
Why did she have to go?
Oak's hand from the small of my back disappears as I come closer to my mom. I come to a stop on the side of her bed away from the medical machinery.
Somewhere deep inside I have to believe the mom I knew is still in there.
My lips pull upwards but my smile is woeful.
"I used to wish for the days where mom would just be quiet.
When she was itching for her next high she would be quite hateful.
" I pause as I think of all the times she spewed at Connor and me.
"It was a relief when she was silent. But now I find no relief in it at all.
" My smile turns sardonic as my eyes cut over to Oak, whose eyes are filled with pain and concern.
"It's funny isn't it? How life works. It's sick fucking twist of humor. "
My vision blurs as the tears pull in my eyes. Oak becomes a silhouette. "Do you think I'll hear her voice again?" My question comes out more as a broken plea.
Before I know it I’m wrapped in his arms. If I could I would sink myself into him. Embed myself in his skin and stay there until the end of time.
"She'll wake up, Grace," he assures me.
In a muffled voice I ask, "How can you be so sure?"
"Because Alice woke up. Because after three months so did Snake. It might not be today or tomorrow but she will wake up, Grace."
And for some reason unbeknownst to me I wholeheartedly believe him.
A knock at the door has me pulling back but Oak keeps me secure in his arms.
The doctor walks in with a stoic expression upon her face. Her dark hair is pulled back tight in a ponytail with no single hair out of place. Her eyes widen comically at Oak first. That, I can understand. Because although he's beautiful he's also downright intimidating to approach.
Her eyes then meet mine and they're no longer wide. "Ms. Vale, I presume?" There's a slight stutter in her voice. From fear or uncomfortableness I don't know.
"Grace," I correct her. She nods her head with a brief smile.
"I'm sorry to inform you about your mother." She nods over to my mom with sympathy in her eyes. "I would like to discuss her diagnosis and prognosis with you but I'm afraid your partner will have to wait outside of the room." Her eyes cut back to Oak with apprehension.
Oak's body becomes stiff behind me, his arm wrapping around my middle tighter, his stance immovable. "I'm not leaving her," he resolutely tells her.
"Sir," the doctor begins hesitantly, "I understand you want to offer her support but-"
"I'm not going anywhere." His voice leaves no room for argument.
She sighs in defeat, waving her white flags in surrender. "If it's okay with Grace," she says on a breath.
"It is," I confirm.
She nods her head again. Walking further in the room she takes the clipboard at the foot of my mom's hospital bed. Her eyes scan over the charts as she flips through the pages. "I always ask, good news or bad news first?"
"How bad is the bad news?" My voice sounds small, childlike.
She offers me another smile out of sympathy but it does nothing for me. "With comas we don't have a clear timeframe. It could take days or weeks. The unknown is the most terrible part, and I wish I could give you an answer but I'm afraid I can't."
"Okay," I swallow, "the unknown." I swallow again, the lump in my throat not disappearing but forming larger. "Is there any other bad news?"
"I assume you are aware of your mother's drug use.
" I nod my head. "Are you aware of the fact that she has suffered a respiratory arrest due to her overdose?
" I nod my head again, this time stiffly.
"I'm not going to sugar coat this for you, Grace, your mother was very close to death.
It's a miracle she didn't pass." My heart clenches so hard it feels as if it's bleeding out from the pressure.
"But your mother does not stand a chance for full recovery if she continues with her drug use.
When a patient wakes from a coma it takes within six months to a year to regain their normal or close to normal lung function.
If this were to happen to her again within that given timeframe I'm afraid I would be giving much graver news. "
Death.
I inhale a sharp breath that burns my lungs. "And the good news?"
"The good news is your mother came in the nick of time. I can't express the importance of time when someone overdoses. And now, only time will tell when she wakes."
"They never told me where she was found. Do you know?"
"At her home in the living area."
Does that mean she had a friend over and they had called to save her? "And who called it in?"
"Mr. Alexander."
The blood drains from my face as I go impossibly still.
"First name," Oak demands in a gruff tone.
She raises a shocked brow at him before answering, "Steven. Steven Alexander."
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. My tongue feels like lead inside my mouth. And I swear on everything that is holy I feel as if I can't fucking breath.
What the fuck was he doing with my mother when he had no reason to be there?
"Are you sure about that?" I hardly recognize Oak's voice when he asks the question. It's darker, rougher.
She nods her head. "He's actually here," she informs us and my eyes bulge out of my head. "Did you not see him in the waiting room?"
I shake my head because I can't find my voice. And I'm afraid once I do the only thing I will be able to do is scream.
"Then he must've went to the cafeteria," she hums thoughtfully.
"He expressed the relationship he has with your family.
" Her eyes become sympathetic once again.
And I want to murder Steven because he had no right at all telling my personal business.
That has to go against ethical law. "He wanted to stay until he could talk to you.
He said he wants to help in any way that he can. "
The only help Steven can give me is by getting the fuck out of my life.
Oak becomes as hard as ice behind me. And I know if I am to look in his eyes they will be cold and cutting.
Sensing the change in the room the doctor sees herself out before telling me she'll keep me posted with updates on my mom's health.
When the door shuts, leaving it to be just the two of us, and mom, I turn in Oak's hold.
And I’m right.
As I tilt my head back to see his eyes they're just as cutting and cold as I thought they would be. Besides the tick in his jaw his expression is stoic.
"Oak," as I say his name it comes out soft yet it's filled with fear. Not from him, but because of not knowing what Steven has up his sleeve. "What are we going to do?"
His jaw flexes again as his finger twitches against my lower back.
With a voice that is chilling, dark and lethally calm he declares, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”