Chapter 39 Jesse
Jesse
NOW
I’ve gotten up to stretch my legs no less than twenty times since they took Fia back an hour ago.
In the bathroom, I splash my face with water, purple circles forming under my green eyes.
My stubble has grown in, and I feel as crap as I look, but Penny is going to be here any moment, and I have to hold it together for her.
When I told her I knew Fia was going to be fine, I actually meant it. She is strong as hell. But that doesn’t erase the worry lingering in every corner of my mind.
Just an hour ago, I was crawling into the back of the ambulance with the EMTs, eyes glued to Fia. Her red hair was coming out of her ponytail, wrapping around her face, and it felt like I failed her.
Big brothers are supposed to protect, right?
“What’s going on?” I asked the medic twice, trying to make my body small and stay out of the way as they administered a shot.
Blood sugar’s dangerously low is all I heard, and I stared helplessly at Fia’s pale face as she stirred, near tears of relief when her eyes fluttered open. She was groggy, but there was barely time to explain anything before they rushed her into the ER.
I exit the bathroom in no less of a daze and decide on a second cup of shitty coffee.
As I’m waiting at the vending machine to fill my small paper cup, emptying granola bar wrappers from my pockets—my dinner—a small blonde tornado flies by. The machine finishes sputtering out the hot brown coffee just in time for me to spin around and call out to her.
Black streaks stain Penny’s face as she clutches the counter at reception, her pink sweater bright in this beige waiting room. The small woman at the counter meets her with an apathetic expression. Penny’s chest heaves up and down.
I glance at my watch. There’s no way she got here this quickly without doing a hundred.
“My sister is here…Fia Hanson…I need to see her,” she stutters out, and the woman starts rifling through papers, but I swoop in, resting a hand on Penny’s shoulder.
She jolts but looks up, and her face scrunches. Penny throws her arms around my shoulders, leaning all of her weight on me.
I pull her into my chest and nod at the receptionist.
“Let’s sit…” I murmur into her hair, holding her hand and leading the way to the green vinyl chairs. My limbs are restless, but I’m afraid that if I don’t get her to sit, she will run laps around this place, or bust the doors down to locate her sister herself.
“Sit, Penny,” I instruct, and she does. I hand her my black coffee, and she takes a sip, eyes glazed over. She drinks half the cup before breathing.
She hates black coffee—that’s how I gauge her level of distress.
I’m almost afraid to ask if her car made it here in one piece. Pretty sure there’s a chance that if I went outside right now, it’d be parked on the sidewalk.
Chaos stirs around us, but I focus on her, holding her hand in my lap.
“We’ll find something out any minute,” I whisper, and it’s not a lie, but a hope.
She leans on me as I wrap my arm around her, feeling the softness of her sweater, of her hair. I hate seeing her red-rimmed eyes.
She grips the white cup, gulping the remaining coffee, and turns to me, sniffling. “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”
Exhaling, I recap what happened, leaving my fears and dramatics out of it. Just facts. “I came home from the shelter, walked in, and Fia was lying on the floor next to the kitchen sink. She was on her side, she didn’t land on her stomach, not that I could tell.”
Penny nods, and I don’t even think she notices her fingers digging into my arm.
“Tank was lying next to her, pawing her. He knew something was wrong.” I scrub my jaw, my five o’clock shadow pricking my palm. “She texted me a few minutes prior, telling me she was going to take him for a walk, so she wasn’t out long.”
Penny isn’t talking, so I squeeze her hand.
“The medic said she had a small cut on the back of her head, might’ve hit it on the counter.
She was breathing, so I didn’t move her, in case of a neck injury.
Paramedics were there less than five minutes later.
I rode in the ambulance with her, and they gave her a glucagon shot for low blood sugar, and she was becoming alert when we got here. They rushed her back immediately.”
Penny drops her face into her hands. “I can’t lose another sibling.” She sobs into her hands, and I pull her in tighter.
Just then, the doors open and out walks a nurse, searching the faces until she sees me. She nods, and I nudge Penny.
Penny shoots up next to me as my chest constricts, trying to read the nurse’s face before she speaks.
“Is she awake?” I ask.
“Yes, she is awake.” She offers a tired smile, and Penny sighs deeply. “But right now, only family can come back.”
“We’re both family,” Penny replies hastily, already three steps ahead. She's ready to run down the hall, so I reach for her hand as the nurse motions us back through the door.
“Is she okay? What’s happening?” Penny starts talking a hundred miles a minute.
The nurse pauses outside the room, glancing down at her clipboard momentarily.
“Your sister’s blood sugar dropped dangerously low. It appears she passed out from a hypoglycemic episode, which can be very serious yet not uncommon in the second trimester. We administered a glucose shot, she is on an IV drip for hydration, and she needed a few stitches in her head.”
Penny nods, tears rolling down her face. She wipes them quickly. It takes everything in me not to wrap my arms around her.
The nurse looks at me. “They said you found her within minutes. She’s very lucky for that.”
Penny gazes up at me, eyes welling, and the nurse slides the clipboard into the pocket outside the door and pauses.
“She’ll need to monitor her sugar levels for the remainder of her pregnancy. And we’d like to keep her overnight for observation, to ensure the baby is okay before discharge.”
We both nod, Penny still speechless.
“Thank you. May we?” I ask, and the nurse leads us into the room.
“Your family is here,” she says more brightly to Fia as Penny rushes to her side.
“Oh my god, Fia, you scared the living hell out of me!” She throws her arms around her little sister, and Fia cracks a tired smile.
She’s leaning back in the bed in a blue gown, with a beeping monitor and an IV drip next to her. Her hair is messy, from the stitches, I’m guessing, but her eyes shine when she sees us.
“Hey, kid. Glad you’re okay.” I walk to her other side.
Penny’s hands are cradling her sister’s face. “You need to eat. I’m not leaving your side; you’re going to eat every ten minutes. You cannot scare me like this.” She kisses her head.
“I promise you, I will. I’m sorry for freaking everyone out,” Fia apologizes, and I shake my head, nudging her arm.
“Don’t apologize. We’re just glad you’re okay, Fi. I think you scared Tank more than anything.” I rest my hands in my pockets, shrugging.
Her head whips my way. “Oh my gosh, the poor baby, is he okay?”
“He will be once you’re home.” I smile at her, my chest tight.
Fia yawns, reaching for the water cup on her side table.
Penny won’t take her eyes off her sister, and I can’t take my eyes off Penny.
As I watch her stand here, selflessly giving everything she has to her sister, all I see is the Penny I fell in love with, the Penny she still is. The one who’s generous and kind, the one who holds everyone else up. The one who forces you to be the best version of yourself.
She doesn’t see it; how lucky we all are just to have her in our lives.
After ten minutes of fluffing Fia’s pillows and triple-checking all the papers the doctor left, Penny glances at me, then back at her sister, whose eyes are barely staying open.
“We should probably let you rest, huh?” Penny asks.
“Yeah, I’m exhausted.” Fia rouses, flashing a tiny smirk. “Just don’t forget to pick me up tomorrow.”
“I’ll be back first thing. You sure you don’t want me to sleep here? I can drop Jesse off and be back in thirty minutes. I just—”
Fia reaches for her sister’s arm. “Penny, please go home. I’ll be okay.”
She slowly reaches for her purse on the chair next to me.
“Hey, how was Danny?” Fia asks, her breathing shallow as she fights to stay awake.
Penny’s eyes go wide, and she turns away from her sister. “Oh, fine, it was good.” She waves, avoiding eye contact with both me and Fia. “We’ll talk later. Get rest and call me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all, I’m here. I’ll see you at 7 a.m. sharp, okay?”
“Okay.” Fia nods, and we both take turns hugging her goodbye for the night.
“Thanks for saving my life. You’re a hero, Jesse,” she whispers to me.
I shake my head. “Just the right place, right time. Love you, kid.” I ruffle her hair, and Penny stares at me blankly.
I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about, but it will have to wait till we’re home.
“Get some rest.” I place a hand on Penny’s back, gently guiding her out of the room and down the corridor. People walk by us, busy with their own purposes, but my eyes stay on the back of her head.
She doesn’t walk in a straight line, digging in her purse, clearly shaken, and I wish I could reach out and steady her, tell her to breathe. But something stops me.
Something happened at the prison, I can feel it in my bones. And I need her to talk to me about it, because I can handle a lot, but being shut out by Penny is something I don’t think I can live with.
Not again.