Noah
Chapter thirty-nine
"How many more damn days are they going to keep me trapped in this bed?" Mom demands. "My herb garden is surely dead by now."
Damon chokes on his water, so shocked to hear Mom curse, and Cory is suddenly very interested in one of Mom's cooking magazines, both corners of his mouth quivering with restrained laughter.
"The boys have been taking turns watering them, Marie," Dad reassures her with a pat to her hand. "You will stay here relaxing until the doctors tell me it's safe for you to leave, and I don't want to hear another word about it!"
Dad clears his throat, trying to get his temper under control, and Mom pouts, but dutifully sits back against the hospital bed.
We started taking turns after the first night.
The night when Dad said he was proud of me for possibly the first time in my life right before four grown men came spilling into the room with their wives and girlfriends, surrounding Mom with worry and love and so much noise we almost got kicked off the floor.
With Dad too overcome to speak, Henry snapped into lawyer mode to de-escalate the situation.
He promised we would keep the noise within respectable levels and even convinced the hospital staff to let some of us sleep in the room that night.
The women booked a hotel within walking distance, taking Damon—too tall to even attempt sleep in those beige loungers—and Cory with them.
Everyone was back in the room the next day, though, arms loaded with flowers and unapproved snacks and causing the inevitable noise.
The day shift, however, was having none of our shenanigans.
So we had to take turns. Take turns watering the plants.
Take turns picking up magazines, pajamas, Mom's crochet needles and yarn, her Kindle, and whatever else she asked for.
And take turns watching Mom go slowly stir-crazy.
On paper, she's a model patient; her vitals are steadily improving and her response to the medications is encouraging.
But the doctor's orders to rest and relax seem beyond her.
After raising five boys, she's too used to staying active, staying busy.
Fortunately for her, Dad said it's likely she'll be discharged today; it's why we're all here.
Everyone except Maya, who's apparently making a welcome home feast at Mom and Dad's place in Clinton Hill; Kendra, who got stuck in an investor meeting she couldn't postpone; and Camila, who's been holding down the fort at Luxe for a week now.
When she told me she and Awa went out last night, I doubt I hid my longing, nor my frustration when she refused to share any details.
I respect her ability to keep a secret, and I actually love that she and Awa are becoming close—hopefully that'll give me a reason to be in Awa's orbit, even if she decides to leave things where they are—but I'm desperate for even a hint of her, something to take the edge off this gruesome week.
"Did someone order flowers?" Kendra asks as she strides into the room. Almost glides, as if she's on a catwalk even when she's not at work. She's carrying two bouquets. One is large—vibrant sunflowers, daisies, and roses overflowing from a yellow ceramic vase. That one she hands to Mom.
"Oh! You shouldn't have, Kendra!" she gushes, burying her nose in the flowers. Kendra shakes her head.
"Well, thank you, Mrs. Park, but I can't take the credit." She gestures to the bouquet. "I think I saw a note."
Mom leafs through the flowers for a card while Kendra takes a seat next to me, surreptitiously sliding the second, much smaller bouquet into my lap and winking. It's light purple lilacs tied with a purple ribbon, and there's a card tucked between two of the buds.
"Does anyone know an Awa?" Mom asks. I jerk my head up and away from the mystery bouquet.
"What about Awa?" I blurt.
"From the look on your face, she must be someone you care a lot about," Cory says with a chuckle. Henry raises an eyebrow.
"I was honestly surprised not to see her here," he whispers. "Considering…"
I wave my hand dismissively, hoping he changes the subject, but Mom's questioning gaze turns knowing.
"Seems like there's a story there," she says with a teasing smile. "Is she a woman you're seeing?"
I fidget in my seat.
"She's a woman I'm sort of seeing, yes," I admit begrudgingly. "And we went to school together."
"You're only sort of seeing her, and yet she sends flowers for your mother?" Dad asks with a furrowed brow. Damon's cough sounds suspiciously like a muffled laugh.
"And you couldn't wait to talk to her the last time we spoke," Henry persists, proving, once again, that twin telepathy is a myth. Why else would he force me to hash out my failures with Awa in front of the whole family?
"Yeah, well," I glare. "When I went over to talk, shit hit the fan with Yong-rae—Sorry, Dad," I add hastily, feeling his eyes on me. "She had no choice but to put the brakes on things. The conflict of interest was clear."
"I hate it when they want a break," Cory grumbles, and Denise giggles before planting a kiss on his lips. His shoulders immediately relax and his mouth tilts up in a smirk; it's how I imagine I look whenever Awa's around. How I looked.
"There's a long story, then," Mom grins. "Anyway, she wishes me a speedy recovery, and there's a gift card for services at Aman Spa."
Damon whistles.
"We haven't even met her, and she's trying to show us up?" he jokes. Mom and Dad both laugh.
"It's not a competition," Mom offers, inhaling her flowers once more. "But if it were," she ponders a moment later, "I've been meaning to get back into pottery."
"Is there anything you're not good at, Mrs. Park?" Kendra asks.
"Staying put when she needs to heal," Dad mutters, which makes both Cory and me snort.
Their friendly chatter resumes, Kendra venting about an investor who would not stop talking, when I remember my own bouquet. The one still tucked into my lap. Thankfully, no one else has noticed. Is it also from Awa?
I discreetly open the card.
Dear Noah,
I was so sorry to hear about your mom! I wish you felt like you could've told me, but I understand why you didn't. I hope she's back to full health soon. Your stories about her always made her seem like such a sweet woman.
It's only been a few days (a few days of hell!), but I miss you. I wish I could be there for you. With you.
When the dust settles, do you think we could finally give things a real shot?
XX, Awa
I look up to find Mom watching me, and quickly blink away the moisture in my eyes. I've missed her too. Wanted her here with me while all this was going on, even if it was just to hold her as I fell asleep.
Knowing she feels the same way, that she's tired of pretending there's not something between us, loosens the knots in my chest. This is right. She is right. And when things resolve with Yong-rae, as I pray they will, I'm going to tell her so.
"Alright!" Dr. Liebman says as he bursts into the room with a big smile on his face. "Who's ready to go home?!"