Chapter 31
Andi
It’s certainly interesting to watch Kevin with his family.
A lot of love flowing in all directions, that’s for sure. But as I hang back, trying not to intrude, I begin to understand why Kevin wasn’t entirely devastated by leaving them to strike out in a new direction. They kind of resemble human steamrollers. They ask him questions and then answer themselves before he can speak. Talk over each other in a way that makes my head spin trying to sort out the various threads of conversation.
They’re loving and enthusiastic…and they take him for granted. He’s not invisible, exactly; it’s more like he’s a piece of comfortable, dependable furniture. Or no, maybe a beloved pet. An old golden retriever—sweet and loyal but not about to make waves or talk back. They talk around him, seeming to assume he’ll be happy to go along with whatever they say.
And for the most part, he just…does.
Kevin’s doctors say they want to keep him one more night but that he can get up and take a short walk as long as he’s not dizzy. A nurse shoos us out of the room and removes his catheter, saying he can start going into the bathroom if he feels up to it, and he seems thrilled. No sooner do they let us back in than he’s climbing gingerly to his feet, shuffling carefully down the hall, one hand on his IV pole, flanked by his brother and CeCe.
His mom has seemed to gain energy and strength right along with him. We watch Kevin leave the room and then she turns to me. “Andi, thank you for taking care of him.”
“He took care of me too, but you’re welcome.”
She brushes at a smudge on her jeans. “He seems…a little different than he used to.”
“Oh?” I see Kevin’s dad listening, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not sure what it is. Maybe it’s because of the shooting? Or maybe…I don’t know. He just seems…livelier.”
Kevin’s dad snorts. “That boy used to be laid-back to the point of being catatonic.”
Kev’s mom—Amy, I’m supposed to call them Amy and Trey—shoots him a look I can’t interpret. “Well. He does seem a little…brighter-eyed now? More interested in all kinds of things.”
I think back to the first night I met him. “I think he’s been like that as long as I’ve known him. Must be something about North Carolina. Maybe it’s his job.” Or maybe he’s just visible to people here and he’s responding to that. No, not fair. Look how they all dropped everything and came as soon as they found out he was hurt.
Amy looks directly at me. “Might be you. You’re a little different than other women he’s dated.”
“How so?” This I really am interested in hearing. I’d especially like to hear her describe that jerk Cheryl.
Amy frowns a little. “At first I wasn’t sure how. But I’m beginning to see that he did have kind of a type. Before. Kind of—” She waves her hand. “Kind of small and obsessively tidy and uptight. All of you have been pretty in your own ways, but…I’m not sure the others were as comfortable in their own skin as you seem.”
I mean, it sounds like it could be a crack about my size and my lack of makeup and my big bulky sweater, which is actually July’s, as are these jeans, but her tone sounds completely sincere. Nonjudgmental. I’m not detecting anything barbed or fat-phobic.
I want to hear more of what she’s thinking, but Kevin and his entourage are back. He looks tired and he’s limping, but there’s a light of victory in his eyes. He pauses by my chair, bends over, and drops a kiss on my lips. “Hi.” As if I’ve just come in.
I can’t not smile back at him. “Hi.”
He moves to the bed, somehow managing to sit and twist and swing his legs onto it without shrieking in pain or flashing any of us. He does look like he needs a nap, though.
Truth be told, so do we all, except for CeCe, who is up and around a lot, never straying far from Kevin’s side (now that she’s vetted me thoroughly on our trip to Ahmed’s), darting glances at him, asking questions…basically, I think, just reassuring herself that her beloved Uncle Kev is really okay.
I totally get that. It’s not easy sitting across the room from him when some still-scared part of me is wanting to confirm and reconfirm that he’s still warm, his heart still beating, his eyes still aware.
Dr. Travels has said that he seems to be doing very well but she’d rather not discharge him in the evening. If all goes well overnight, he’ll be discharged first thing in the morning.
Pete and Kevin’s folks had been discussing who should sleep where, with Amy and Trey staying at Kevin’s—“I get the couch!” CeCe chimes, surprising me, as I’d figured she’d want to be with her brothers and cousins and parents—while everyone else stays at Joe’s building. But suddenly Amy repeats Dr. Travels’s words and her head comes up, her stricken gaze finding Kevin.
“We forgot about Kevin! Where will Kevin stay?” Her eyes move from him to me and back.
He’s right here, awake and fully adult.
I move to his side. “I hadn’t had a chance to ask you yet, but Joe and July delivered an air mattress to the cottage for me. I’m hoping, since my place is all one level, you’ll agree to stay with me. It’ll be quiet, and you like the view, and…I’ll be able to help out. Pattie brought my laptop to me at July’s, so I can work from home the next few days.”
His expression is full of too many things for me to read. Relief, I think, and embarrassment…and tiredness. “That would be great. Thanks.” He picks up my hand and kisses it.
“Well,” his mom says after a little silence. “I guess that is better than you having to climb to a second-floor apartment or lower yourself to an air mattress in a big room full of a bunch of other people.”
“Some of whom snore,” CeCe says, shooting a mischievous look at her dad.
I’m not sure how many more people, exactly, are coming. Kevin’s two brothers-in-law are staying in Lincoln to work and take care of the pets, but CeCe rattles off a list of other names too fast for me to count. Including, I think, her cousin who just started college.
Maybe I’m more out of practice than usual at this peopling thing, because the idea exhausts me. Yeah, I work with people every day…but then I’ve always gone home to my little stone refuge in the hills. Even when Gram was alive, that always felt peaceful and mostly quiet. Kevin never seems like an intrusion. He’s a welcome addition to my world. And his family seems lovely, just…lively. And loud. The nurses had to come shush them once, and since then they speak in stage whispers whenever a conversation gets animated.
I like them, and I know Kevin loves them, but when I look at the fatigue on his face, I want to push them all out of the room so he can take a nap. With me.
***
Kevin
Andi looks shell-shocked. She’s so beautiful I’m not sure anyone else notices her exhaustion, but I do. I tug her down so I can kiss her cheek. “You should go home. Get some rest. Have you taken your vitamins today?” She’s on a prenatal vitamin with folate and iron and…I don’t know what all. Sometimes the iron doesn’t agree with her. “How’s your tummy feeling?”
She widens her eyes at me, but no one is listening. They’re squabbling about…where the grandparents should sleep, I think.
“I’m fine. I’d like to stick around.”
And she does, and so does everyone else, and sometimes I nap and sometimes I pretend to nap. I’m not sure why everything seems different to me now. My family hasn’t changed, but I feel different with them. More aware of…myself, maybe? I don’t think it’s just because I was shot.
I think it’s because I’ve changed since I’ve been here. If this were a sci-fi movie, I’d be a creature that started out as a soft blob and is gradually taking on a distinct shape of its own.
I never have thoughts like these. Maybe I’m still drugged up.
It’s late when the others arrive. Just like before, I hear them coming.
Andi has just texted my address and Joe’s address to the others, and now she’s drawing a little town map on a napkin for Pete and Dad, showing them where those two places are in relation to the hospital and the town square. Telling them that if they need good food, July will fix them up.
Four…three…two…one… “Kevin!” my grandmas say, together, from the doorway, and then they pour into the room with my sisters and grandpas and the older kids, all talking at once. Pete’s wife is out in the van with the younger kids, some of whom are sleeping. That’s one of many, many things they tell me.
Again Andi’s pretty eyes widen. She eases to the back of the room and then around to close the door to try to contain the noise. My mom is shushing people as best she can, even as she doles out hugs.
They flock around the bed and I feel like a frog in a specimen jar. One by one they touch my arm or kiss my cheek or give me gentle fist bumps. CeCe’s little brothers clamor to hear the story of How Uncle Kev Got Shot, and everyone else leans forward to listen too, including the ones who’ve heard it before. So I tell the story, making sure to describe Andi’s role very clearly, and soon they are darting her glances full of awe and admiration.
I’ve never seen her blush like this. Even beet red, she’s so dang pretty I forget where I am in the story, my words trailing off as I look at her.
And there’s another of those surprising silences, and then my mom’s mom speaks up. “Well, it’s late, and everybody’s tired, and I think we should all get some rest. What hotel are we staying at?”
My mom and dad start telling them about what Andi’s friends— our friends—have worked out, and Pete shows them Andi’s little map and sends them Joe’s address, and then it happens.
My other grandma says, “But who will stay with Kevin?”
I’m just about to say I think I might sleep better knowing everyone else is getting a good night’s sleep elsewhere when Andi says, “I will. That chair’s really comfy. I used it last night.”
And my grandma says, “Bless you, honey, you are so sweet. But you and that baby need a real night’s sleep on a real mattress.”
And the small unusual silences from before have nothing on the one that settles over the room now.
“Baby?” my mom says in a tiny voice, her eyes going to Andi’s well-hidden belly.
“ Baby? ” my sisters say in a simultaneous not-quite-a-shriek.
Dad and Pete stand there with their mouths open.
And CeCe says, “Aw, Uncle Kev, you’re going to be a great dad.”
“Well,” one grandma says to the other, “I guess we’ve really stepped in it now.”
“Don’t tell me the rest of you didn’t know,” my other grandma says. “ Look at her! She’s glowing up the whole room. And her hair is so shiny! And she doesn’t look like the type to go for implants, so those —”
And oh my god, she’s waving at Andi’s breasts, which are, admittedly, even more spectacular than usual lately, even in that bulky sweater.
Aaaaaaand…Andi’s blushing furiously again. And my nephews are giggling, and Pete is elbowing them.
“All right, everybody. Thank you all for coming. You can see I’m okay, but we’re all tired, so why don’t you all head out? Andi and I will figure out a way for me to see everybody again before you leave…”
Damn if that’s not my voice, taking charge like a boss. Everyone turns to stare at me.
“Oh, honey,” Mom says. “We’re planning to stay a while.”
Andi moves to my side and we reach for each other’s hands.
“Oh, good. That’ll be nice. Thanks.” That stranger inside me speaks up again. “Well, I’ll be discharged first thing in the morning, and then Andi and I will be busy trying to get me settled at her house. How about everybody take it easy in the morning, maybe explore town a little, and later we’ll make a plan to get together?”
Everyone looks around at each other like, Who is this guy, and what has he done with Kevin?
“The town square is really nice.” Andi waves at the map in Pete’s hand. “The kids could run off a little steam there in the morning, and there are nice little shops and restaurants and the library. Our friend July would love to meet you. Her place is on one corner of the square. Best food in town.”
More looks exchanged. Eyebrows raised. “I guess we’re being dismissed,” Dad says, an odd note in his voice. Not anger. Maybe…amusement?
More fist bumps and cheek kisses, a hug from CeCe, and then they actually begin to shuffle toward the door. Pete’s the last through it. He turns at the threshold. “Call me if you need the van to get you to Andi’s.”
“Will do. Thanks, Pete.”
Andi and I watch them leave. Listen to them move down the hall at a volume that is very quiet, for them. Pretty sure I hear a few more “a baby ?”s.
“Well.” Andi resumes her place in the recliner, facing me within hand-holding distance, and then we’re touching without me knowing who reached first.
“Well.”
“So much for nobody being able to tell. How did she know ?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe you should raise that sweater up and let me take a look. See if I can figure it out.”
To my delight, she actually does flash me. Day made, because…damn.
“Might as well. Feels like everybody else in the world has seen me in a sports bra in the past couple of days. You. Every police officer and medic in town. Half the shelter. My stalker.” She sounds glum.
I tear my mind off her breasts and squeeze her fingers. “You okay, really? D’you find out anything about him?”
She shakes her head. “Not much. I talked to police and the shelter a couple of times while your family was here and you were resting. His name is Carl McCarthy. Apparently his wife and two little girls left him and he thinks that the shelter and I have them.” She sighs. “And that the best way to handle that would be to arm himself and catch me alone.”
A shudder runs through me hard enough to jar my leg. I can’t even stand to think about that. “They’re holding him, aren’t they?”
“Yeah.” She shivers and hugs my hand to her. “So I guess we no longer have to worry about how or when to break the news about the baby to your family, huh?”
I’m all for this subject change. “Guess not. They’ll still have a million questions, though. Or my mom and sisters will, anyway. The others will just sit back and enjoy the interrogation.”
“But you bought us a little time to think about what to say.” Her smile is faint but it reaches her eyes. “Well done.”
“Yes I did.” And it worked this time, because they were so shocked at me taking charge. But they are relentless and next time I won’t have the element of surprise.