Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
I hear my mother before I see her. Paulette and Grandma Janet rush towards my hospital bed, their eyes wide with relief.
“God is good!” my mother says. She stares up at the ceiling, raising both her hands.
Grandma Janet nods her agreement. “Praise Him.”
My mother crosses the tight space. Her fruity perfume overtakes the smell of antiseptic that’s prevalent in the hospital. She grabs my face and turns it over in her hands to get a good look at me.
“My head’s fine,” I say, waving her off with my good hand—the one not in a cast.
“We were so worried when we got the call that you were in an accident,” my mother says. “Why you ever decided to start riding that death trap, I’ll never understand.”
Grandma Janet sits down on the empty chair by the bedside. “God spared your life child,” she states. “You must give him thanks.”
I almost roll my eyes, but I’m not trying to get into a theological debate with them right now. The two of them have been trying to indoctrinate me into their church since I popped into the world. In their minds, it’s only a matter of time before I stop sinning, trade in my pants for frocks, and marry a man. But it will take more than a near-death experience for me to make that kind of change.
“You didn’t need to come all this way,” I say. “I’m quite all right.” I was admitted to St. Joseph’s Hospital. For them to get here, on public transit, it would have taken more than an hour and a half.
They both tsk at me at the same time.
“Of course, we came,” Paulette says.
“But you didn’t have to. As you can see, I’m fine.”
My mother frowns. “You are not fine. You crashed. Your hand is broken.”
“They told me it was a clean break,” I reply, waving my casted left hand for effect. “They’re even releasing me soon. I’m just waiting on the prescription. I appreciate you coming, I really do, but I hate the thought of you both taking two buses and a train to get here. If you called me, I would have told you not to come.”
“We did call. You didn’t pick up.” Grandma Janet says. “But you needn’t worry, we got a ride.”
“Uncle Weston dropped you off? Is he here?” I ask, hating that I inconvenienced yet another family member. Or maybe they took an Uber. If they used the ride-share app, I can pay them back. It’s the least I could do.
“No, your roommate, Noémie, gave us a lift,” my mother says.
As if her name being called summons her, Noémie suddenly comes into my line of view. She saunters towards the curtained off enclosure where I’m laid up. Seeing her makes my heart do a stupid little flip. I’m mad at her. She’s the last person I want to see right now. But I’m also glad to see her.
Noémie’s dressed like a celebrity trying to go incognito. She is wearing a pair of cargo shorts and an oversized Nike t-shirt. Her auburn hair is scooped under a Blue Jays baseball cap, and her face is scrubbed clean of makeup.
Coming to a halt at the foot of the bed, Noémie forces a nervous smile. “Hey, Jordan.”
“Shouldn’t you be flying to Honolulu right now?” I ask coldly.
Noémie’s smile falters. I look away from her.
This whole situation is awkward. I want to escape it, but I’m trapped. I can’t go anywhere. I have to wait for the doctor to come back and discharge me.
Minutes tick by. I stay silent.
My mother leaves to find the washroom, and my grandmother nods off in the chair. I feel Noémie’s eyes on me, beseeching me to look at her. I don’t.
Thankfully, the doctor doesn’t keep me waiting long. He’s a tall, balding man with bags the size of quarters under his eyes. He doesn’t really acknowledge me as he examines the chart in his hands and prattles about the types of pain medication I’ll be getting. He mentions something about me needing to get more X-rays in the future and something else about physiotherapy.
I should probably be paying more attention to what he is saying, but all I can think about is that Noémie is here. She isn’t at the airport. She didn’t go to Hawaii. Even as I want to hold on to it, the wick of my anger towards her is fizzling out.
I get discharged, and we all head for the exit. It’s still raining outside. Reaching Noémie’s Tesla, I opt to sit in the back with Grandma Janet. Noémie drives us all to Yorkville. My mother and grandmother fawn over Noémie’s home for a hot minute before remembering why they are here. Despite being a grown-ass adult, they insist on tucking me in and praying over me. It’s ridiculous, and I hate it. But I guess it’s kind of heartwarming. I guess I’m kind of glad they’re here with me.
Noémie offers to take them back to Scarborough. They accept her offer, and suddenly I’m alone. Well, maybe not entirely alone.
Céline paws open the door, slipping through the crack. Now she’s curled up on the rug at the foot of the bed. Her beady eyes are relaxed but ascertaining, as if she can sense that I’m hurting more on the inside than the outside.
My arm throbs, so I pop a couple pain pills as per my prescription. I begin mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. Not long into it, my eyelids grow heavy and I fall asleep.