Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Now
Raine
T here is a part of my mind that is always preparing for the worst and another part that believes that if I prepare enough for it, the worst won’t happen. That’s what I’m hanging onto for dear life as I sit next to my Papaw, clasping his hand tightly, reminding myself that all of this is, in fact, real. I wish I could summon some comforting words to say to him, but this is one of those moments where I choose to be silent, as no words can express what we’re all feeling deep inside.
Instead, I choose action and squeeze his hand, letting him know that I’m here with him, and lean my head against his shoulder. A deep exhale escapes him, and he sinks further into me. I know it means a lot to him that I’m here. I can see it in his light-blue eyes and feel it in the way he leans back against me. There is comfort in knowing I made it in time to be by his side during all of this.
What I wouldn’t give to have my Mamaw wake up and be back to her normal self. A repeating prayer of healing has been echoing inside my heart since I received the news. She needs a miracle, and I beg God to consider it .
We’ve been sitting in the waiting room for hours. I’ve dozed off a few times because the waiting is agonizing. I honestly don’t know how Papaw is keeping himself together. He is quieter than usual, lost in thought, but he answers questions when asked and has held a few conversations. He amazes me with his strength.
My phone buzzes in my lap, and I peer down to see Samuel’s name on the screen. Crap , I forgot to text him. I’m sure he’s worried despite us breaking up.
Sam
Did you make it safe?
Yes. I’m sorry for not letting you know sooner.
Sam
It’s okay. How is your grandmother?
I’m not sure. We’re waiting for an update from her MRI.
Sam
I’m sorry you’re going through this.
Me too.
I watch as the three dots shimmy but I click my phone off and turn it upside down in my lap. Felix Grady takes the seat next to Papaw and is whispering something to him. Olivia and Luke walked outside a few minutes ago, and I wish I went with them.
I look around the room, studying who all is left waiting and only find a few others. My mother and her new husband sit in the back of the room along with my Uncle Jack. I turn when I notice my mother’s face shifting my way. I’m still not sure why she is here. This isn’t her family. I can feel her eyes on me, and it causes a hot prickle of awareness to take over. My composure is starting to crack, I notice the shaking of my hands intensifying.
I understand that my biggest problem, especially with my mother, is that I haven’t forgotten what happened in the past—the feeling of abandonment, her issue with alcohol, her poor choice in men. No matter how hard I try to forget, the memories and the pain stick with me. This has been my fatal flaw, and I’m not sure how to keep it from becoming my own destruction.
The agony I’m trying to hide between quiet breaths is starting to eat me alive. Being here in this hospital with the unknown status of my Mamaw, facing my mother for the first time after that night, and being around Ryland is all too much.
I shoot up from my seat, and without saying a word or looking at anyone, I beg my feet to move. I push open several doors without thinking of where I am going. I desperately need to put distance between me and them . My mind is spiraling, the shaking in my hands getting worse, and I know it won’t be much longer until I break. I need a quiet place to let this eruption building inside of me out .
I find a small room with a handful of empty chairs. I rush inside and plant myself into one of the chairs. I’m used to wearing a thousand different faces daily, all to hide my own, but right now, I erase them and allow a tear to run down my cheek.
“God, I’m not ready for this,” I whisper, allowing the pain to swallow me whole.
I sit here in this tiny room and come undone. I’m not sure how much time passes. I don’t care, in all honesty. It feels good to be alone, to allow my true feelings to escape just for a little bit before I have to return the fake mask I plaster onto my face when I’m around others.
The sound of a door opening causes me to jump and jerk my face away from my hands. Standing before me is Ryland with a foam cup in each hand. His dark brows are pushed together in concern as his eyes pierce my own. He places the two cups onto a glass table by the door, and in two swift steps, he sits down next to me.
“Hey,” he says softly and reaches his hand out to touch mine. He hesitates for a moment before patting the top of my knee instead and intertwines his fingers together in his lap.
I wrap my arms around my knees and pull them closer to my face. I lean my chin on my arms and wipe my eyes against my forearms. I’m embarrassed that he found me breaking down and train my gaze on his brown boots. He’s got a bit of mud clinging to one, right at the toe. I try to distract myself by picturing him in his flannel, covered in sweat, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, like he used to look when he would come over and help Papaw around the farm. The memory loosens something inside of me, and it makes me want to be open with him instead of reserved like I should be.
I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” I admit and mean it in so many different ways. I sniffle and wipe away a few fresh tears.
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay to feel the way you do right now.” He puts his hand on my lower back lightly, and I can sense his nervousness before he removes it just as quickly. “I’ve seen you in worse shape.”
I snort, but there is a heaviness with it. “I doubt that.” I return my gaze to the man that used to be my everything . The man I’ve tried hard to forget but have always failed to.
“You’ll make it through this, no matter the outcome.” He would know better than anyone else after losing both of his grandparents.
I don’t know if he can feel it too, but there’s this familiar buzz between us. I wonder if he’s still hurt by my past actions. Am I still hanging onto his? That night has played over and over in my mind, leaving me wondering how things could have been different. Oftentimes, I question if leaving hurt him worse than it did me? Where can we stand today after that?
I feel as if I let go of that heartache a long time ago. We were teenagers, after all. Fresh out of high school with the whole world at our fingertips. We wanted different things, and we both made our choices that night. One of the saddest moments in my life was the love I ran from because of fear. That’s the one thing I’ve hung onto.
It’s why I chose to spend many years single, never trusting anyone with my heart. That was, until I met Samuel. He unlocked something in me. He gifted me silent understanding and a fresh start. Yet, I never could open up to him—not fully—or allow myself to truly love him.
I inhale a daring breath and bravely peek at Ryland. His hazel eyes find mine, and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. I watch, frustration tightening his expression as he considers me quietly.
I can’t get over how different he is now compared to the boy I met when we were teens. Back then, he was loose and comfortable, a little quiet but charming. His smiles were easy and frequent. Here, now, sitting next to me in the small room, the overhead fluorescent lighting painting him in shadows as he sits next to me, he’s got a frown on every line of his face from the set of his eyebrows to the downward tilt of his full lips. I wonder how much of that is my fault.
I open my mouth to say something—anything—but instead, I swallow my words, feeling them form a lump in my throat. His eyes never falter from studying me. I feel the familiar swoop, low in my belly, just like I did the first time I saw him. It’s like cracking open a memory to take another look. Flannel instead of a school sweatshirt. Messy golden-brown hair instead of a backward baseball cap.
His eyes still look the same, still hold a kindness within their hazel color. I notice the small crow’s feet etched into their corners. His hair, messy from running his hands through it, is the same shade of golden brown but is now mixed with a few stray grays near his temples. He has filled out, and the lower half of his face is covered in a brown beard that looks like it could use a trim. Even so, it’s rather striking .
His eyes may be familiar, but they don’t look at me like they once did. Why does that send a pang through my heart? Something I’ve told myself to work on while I’m back in Covewood is to finally put the past in the past. To take that step forward, even though forgiveness often feels like a giant leap rather than a step.
“Raine?” Ryland’s voice snaps me back into reality as he runs a hand through his hair. “The necklace.”
I’m confused at first, but then it dawns on me. I’m wearing the rainbow necklace. In the chaos of events, I completely forgot that I had it on. My hand reaches up, pinching the rainbow in between my index finger and thumb.
“Mamaw sent it with some old photo albums a few months back. I, uh…don’t know why, really, but I put it on before I traveled home.”
He hums, considering me for a moment, before he looks down at the pendant between my fingers. “I’m glad you kept it.”
I give him a small smile, and it seems to loosen something within him. It’s enough to snap me out of our little bubble and return back to this horrible nightmare that is our reality. Being here with Ryland is starting to mess with my emotions. It feels as if the past and present are fighting with one another. With an exhale, I stand up and look down at Ryland as his lips part to say something, but the words don’t come out. I know the feeling because I don’t know what to say either.
“I probably should get back,” I say softly and point to the door.
He stands up and bends his head down to get a better look at me. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay,” he stutters before adding, “Would you like a hug?”
My eyes travel down his shoulders, across his biceps, to his large hands. Oh, how good it would feel to be wrapped in those arms and receive his comfort right now. To feel safe like he used to make me feel. But I know I won’t be able to handle it. Not right now. It’s best to keep my distance. I shake my head no. “I, um… I’m trying to keep it together right now. A hug might get me crying again.”
Life is hitting me like a freight train, forcing me to face the music I’ve tried so hard to mute. Every emotion I’ve worked intensely to tuck away seems intent on returning all at once, and I’m not ready to deal with them. I’m not prepared for this.
“Okay,” he replies softly as he moves around me to grab the two styrofoam cups and hands one to me. “It’s just hospital coffee, but you looked like you could use some caffeine.”
I take it from his grasp and place my hands around its warmth. “Thank you.”
He gives me a nod in return and opens the door for me. As we walk down the brightly lit hallway, he stops near a door and asks, “Hey, would you mind if we go in here together to pray over Johanna. I can go grab Earl to join us.”
My eyes look past him and see that we are standing in front of the chapel. Ryland and I went to church together often in the past, but the fact that he wants to pray over my Mamaw sends an odd yet satisfying feeling into my heart. I nod in agreement and reach for the door handle.
“I’ll be right back,” he assures me and makes his way down the hallway. I take a seat near the window and do my best to breathe encouraging breaths. The last thing I want to do is cry in front of Papaw. I have to stay strong for him.
Within minutes, Ryland returns with Papaw close behind him, and I’m relieved when I notice no one else came with them. It’s just the three of us. Papaw takes a seat next to me, and Ryland sits next to him. I lace my fingers with Papaw’s and give him an encouraging squeeze, reminding him that I’m here for him. He gives me a slight smile, revealing just how strong he truly is.
My heart softens as Ryland takes my Papaw’s other hand and bows his head. I can’t take my eyes off him as he coughs back his nerves and lets out a breathy exhale. I feel so selfish in this moment when I realize how hard this must be for him as well. I have been so self-absorbed in my own suffering. I forgot how close Ryland is with my grandparents. He’s spent more time with them these last ten years than I have. That thought alone twists my gut, and I feel the hot sting of fresh tears fight their way past my eyelids as I shut them and bow my head.
“Dear Heavenly Father, we come to you today to ask that you be with Johanna and her loved ones. Please come near to this family, Lord, and bring them a peace that only you can give. We ask that you place your healing hands upon Johanna and make her whole again. That you usher the medical team into success. Lord, we are not ready for her to leave us,” his voice breaks for a moment with a cough following.
My eyes open, and I watch him as he continues his prayer. “I know we can’t ask of you something that isn’t part of your will, but we're begging you to heal Johanna. Bring her back to us, Lord. Please be near us during this difficult time. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Papaw sniffs beside me and tightens his grip around my hand. “Please Lord, hear us.”
This breaks something inside of me. I thought I cried all of the tears that I could on my drive back to Covewood and then again in that tiny waiting room. Despite myself, more tears find their way down my cheeks. We sit in the chairs and hold onto each other's hands tightly as we stay silent in prayer.
As a few moments pass by, a rush of peace falls over my heart. The icy shock of panic is replaced with a flood of warmth. The shaking in my hands and legs stops. The tightness in my chest loosens and helps my tears to stop flowing.
At this moment, something deep inside of my heart is telling me that my Mamaw is going to be okay. I open my eyes and look at Papaw, who turns toward me.
“Did you feel that?” he asks and then turns to Ryland.
Ryland opens his eyes, and I notice a single tear fall down his cheek. I've only seen him cry twice since I’ve known him. It’s hard to see him hurting. I want to move closer to him and show him the comfort that he showed me moments ago. Instead, his eyes seem to light up as he looks at me and nods his head. “Yeah.”
“Peace,” Papaw whispers next to me and squeezes our hands again. “Thank you for praying, Ryland.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Papaw pushes himself up off the chair, his shoulders already looking lighter, and he shuffles toward the door. “I’m going to head back out there.”
As the door shuts behind him, I turn to study Ryland more closely. I’m not sure if it’s from seeing him for the first time in years or witnessing him like this, but something within him has changed. More than his appearance. It’s something much deeper.
“Are you okay?” I ask, feeling the twisting in my gut again with the reminder that he, too, is hurting.
His hazel eyes, looking more brown than usual, pierce into mine as he shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I’m barely keeping it together.”
In the past, I used to rely on Ryland for his constant honesty. It draws me to him still as I move to the seat where Papaw sat and place a hand into his for the first time since we broke each other's hearts. The skin there is more callused from years of hard work. I try not to enjoy his touch as much as I am, but it feels so comforting.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I’m sorry that I didn’t think to ask how you were doing.”
“It’s okay. You have your own pain to deal with.”
“That's not a good enough excuse. I know being here doesn’t bring you good memories, and Mamaw is just as much yours as she is mine.”
Something within him deflates with my words. His eyes gloss over, and I can tell that he is trying to fight back his emotions. It takes everything in me not to cry at the sight of him hurting. “I, uh…” he starts, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. “I was there…when it happened.”
It takes me a moment to realize what he is referring to. I squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue. It feels like we’re in this weird bubble of time where both the past and present are held back behind a closed door, and we’ve locked it for now, focusing on this moment and nothing else.
“I tried to bring her back. I tried to get her heart to start.” He bites his lip and closes his eyes tightly.
My other hand flies up and touches my lips, allowing his words to sink in. He was there when she had the heart attack. He gave her CPR. My heart sinks deeper, the peace I felt moments ago washing away.
“Ry,” I whisper, the nickname slipping out of me like a procedural memory.
His eyes open, and another tear travels down his cheek and into his scruffy beard. I remove the hand from my mouth and wipe the tear away, keeping my fingers against the rough texture of his beard.
“I, uh…” He looks down at our hands. “I don’t want you to be disappointed in me—that I couldn’t save her.”
I shake my head. “No, you did everything you could. I’m thankful you were there. And she’s here now. We haven’t lost her.”
I look at our hands together and wonder how we got to this point already. So much hurt and years between us, and yet, somehow, we still have an understanding, this need to be there for one another. That part of us never went away, and I find comfort in it.
I open my mouth to say something but I’m interrupted by the door to the chapel opening. We both look and see Bill Hampton, a close neighbor to my grandparents, standing and staring back at us. He waves. “The nurse came back with the MRI results.”
Ryland and I shoot up, keeping our hands together, and chase after him down the hallway. A nurse stands in front of the group of people waiting to hear about Mamaw. When her eyes land on mine, I already know what she is going to say. I stop in my tracks. Ryland looks back at me with a puzzled expression. I don’t have the strength to move any closer.
He studies me then looks back at the nurse, then back to me. I can’t look anywhere but at the clipboard the nurse holds in her hands. There is a buzzing in my ears as I watch her lips move. I can’t make out clearly all of what she is saying, only parts of it.
“Understand that she died for ten minutes.”
“Her brain didn’t have enough oxygen.”
“There's nothing left of her.”
“Her body is barely hanging on.”
“The family can have a moment to say their goodbyes.”
Ryland stands next to me, and I am suffocating. How is this happening? She was fine. Yeah, sure, she died, but she came back . She can’t leave us. I know she wouldn’t want to leave us. God gave us peace. Why did he give us peace only to take her away?
My mother’s weeping snaps me back into reality. I look toward her, then to my uncle next to her, and then to my Papaw, who is unmoving. A hand is on my shoulder, and I turn to see Olivia and Luke, out of breath from rushing to us.
“Raine?” she asks, and I look at Ryland for a reason I’m unsure of. A mask of despair is hanging on his face, and there’s a glossy sheen layered across his eyes like he’s holding back a mass of emotions. I allow Olivia to wrap her arms around me and feel two others that I suspect are Ryland and Luke, wrapping themselves around us, and I allow myself to come undone, no longer caring.