Chapter 19 – Hannah
Chapter Nineteen
HANNAH
S itting back down on the hard waiting room chair, I pick up my knitting needles—Devin was kind enough to run back to the shop and get our projects for us to work on while we’re at the hospital—but I haven’t finished two stitches before I set them back down.
It’s been over an hour since we heard anything about Maya, and I’m about to crawl out of my skin.
From her spot in the corner where she’s crocheting, Alexis smiles at me. The expression doesn’t reach her eyes, but it’s good to know that she understands how I’m feeling. We’re not in this alone.
Even though we’ve only been a crafting group for a few weeks, it already feels like I’ve known these women my whole life. I can’t imagine going forward without them.
Flashbacks of Maya outside Knit Happens return. The way her words slurred, her eyes closing as she went limp. We didn’t know what had happened, and thank God she came to less than a minute later. According to the doctor, she’d probably passed out from pain.
I shake my head, almost wanting to laugh. People with chronic pain are the toughest. We can walk around all day long, every day, smiling our way through pain that would have most people on the floor. As awful as it is, you kind of…well, not get used to it. More like learn to live with it.
Or live in spite of it.
Sighing, I spin on my heel and start pacing. It sucks that Maya thought she had to grin and bear it, but I get it—and I’ve been guilty of doing the same thing many times.
Which makes me wonder if I’m getting dangerously in over my head. This last week, my schedule has been jam-packed, what with classes, the shop, and finishing up my grant application. I should probably slow down, but I’ve been having too much fun. Especially when Michael is involved.
“Excuse me,” a middle-aged woman in one of the chairs says. “What is it you girls are working on?”
I follow her gaze to Alexis, Devin, and Flick, all three of them knitting or crocheting away. “Oh. We’re making some pieces for the firefighter’s fundraiser. Scarves, hats, and things like that to auction off.”
Her eyes brighten. “I’ve always wanted to knit. It looks so calming.”
“Would you like to learn how to now?” I ask, not even thinking about it.
She looks surprised but nods eagerly, and the next thing I know, we’re sitting side by side as I teach her to cast on. The few other people in the waiting room take notice, and I invite them over. With the needles that are in the bottom of the basket Devin grabbed, I have enough for everyone.
It’s funny. When I was sitting trying to knit by myself, I couldn’t get in the zone. But teaching makes me feel hyperfocused, like nothing could pull me out of the reverie that is yarn, the clicking of plastic on plastic, and the slowing down of thoughts.
Nothing except Michael, that is.
I swear I sense him come in. It’s a shift in the air, like the electric charge that comes on before a big storm. Looking up, I see him striding through the automatic doors, a monolith of comfort and security.
He’s not alone. Katie and Cynthia flank him, all three of them carrying canvas tote bags.
Michael’s gaze sweeps the area and lands on me. I trail off, forgetting where I was in my lesson for this impromptu class, and put my needles down.
“Uh, hopefully that can get everyone started.” I stand. “I’ll be right back. Flick can help if you have any questions.”
Skirting around the pots full of peace lilies and scheffleras, I meet the three of them by the check-in desk. “Hi. What are you doing here?” I shake my head, realizing how rude that sounded. “Not that I’m not happy to see you. Um…hi.”
“We brought you dinner,” Katie announces.
“Enough for everyone,” Michael adds.
“You did?” My jaw drops. Talk about going the extra mile. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course we didn’t.” Michael’s gaze holds mine. “But we wanted to.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I wish we were alone so that I could sink into his arms and show how grateful I am for him—in a way that requires privacy. And it’s not just about tonight; it’s about everything he’s done for me since we’ve met.
Trekking over here with bags of food is just the cherry on top.
“Thank you,” I sigh. “The cafeteria here sucks.”
Cynthia chuckles. “Oh, we know.”
“Hannah,” Michael says. “This is my mom?—”
“Cynthia,” I finish. “We actually met earlier today. Thank you for coming,” I tell her.
“You’re welcome.” She pats my shoulder. “How is your friend?”
“We, uh, don’t know yet.” My stomach twists. “We’re still waiting to hear anything.”
“Katie,” Cynthia says, “help me serve dinner. Make a plate for everyone in the waiting room. We have more than enough.” She takes Michael’s bag from him, and she and Katie hustle over to the others.
“I’m so sorry.” Michael wraps me in a hug and draws me close. I’m back in that warm, safe place that makes me melt from the inside out. Snug in his embrace, I feel like nothing could ever go wrong. I’m in a cocoon of perfection, worries vanishing like wisps of smoke.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his flannel shirt. Taking a deep inhale, I step back. If I stay pressed against him any longer, I might get too relaxed and fall asleep while standing. At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s only adrenaline keeping me going. “Her ankle was swollen. She passed out. I don’t know if it’s her lupus…”
I trail off. How much of this have I told him? Our phone call seems days ago.
A door opens, and the doctor that we saw with Maya earlier emerges. I nearly sprint to her.
“Is she okay?” I ask.
The woman smiles. “It’s not lupus nephritis, which is good. It’s just a run-of-the-mill kidney infection. A pretty awful one, but she’ll be just fine. I’d like to keep her overnight to monitor her and then send her home in the morning.”
“Thank God.” My shoulders drop with the biggest sigh that’s ever existed. The rest of the crafting group gathers round, asking questions. Knowing they can report back to me, I head for the bathroom.
I need to splash some water on my face. Wake myself up. Now that I know Maya is all right and I’ve relaxed some, I’m even more exhausted.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Michael, giving his hand a squeeze, and then dip into the women’s bathroom before anyone can talk to me.
The fluorescent lights are too bright, and my skin aches. There’s a pounding in my temples, and my whole head feels as heavy as a bowling ball. I just need a little refresher…just a moment to get myself together.
After splashing water on my face, I dry it with paper towels and put my glasses back on. The woman in the mirror looks absolutely drained—which is a shock.
I thought I was doing so well this week. Yes, I’ve been busy, but I’ve been managing it.
The door opens, and in the bathroom mirror, I see my aunt enter. “There you are,” she says.
“Hey.” Turning around, I put on a smile, but she sees right through it.
“Are you all right?” She touches my forehead.
“Fine,” I lie. “And the doctor said Maya will be okay. It’s a kidney infection.”
She nods. “Michael told me.” Her frown doesn’t go anywhere. “Hannah, you need to go home and rest.”
“I know. I am.” With great effort, I push off from where I’ve been leaning against the counter.
Chewing my bottom lip, I lead the way out of the bathroom. I’ll just go home and climb into bed early… Then, in the morning…
Black spots appear in front of me, and the waiting room tilts.
“Hannah!” Katie yells.
I feel her arms go around me, but she’s so small, she struggles to keep me up. I reach my hand up, grabbing on to the back of a chair.
“We got you.” My aunt grabs me from behind, helping Katie to hold me up.
“Hey.” It’s Michael’s deep, calm voice. “Hannah. Sit down. Here you go.”
Someone puts a chair behind me, and I comply. Everything is still blurry, and a searing ache is entering all my joints, from my shoulders to my feet.
“What do you need?” Michael crouches in front of me.
“She needs rest.” Carol’s voice is sharp. “She shouldn’t be here. She needs to be home.”
She sounds angry, but with whom, I don’t know. “It’s not their fault,” I mumble.
“Hannah.” She crouches in front of me, right next to Michael. “I’m calling a doctor to take a look at you.”
Tears fill my eyes. I can’t believe I’m stealing all the attention from Maya. She’s the one hospitalized. “I just need to go to bed. I’m… This is a flare.”
It’s hard to get out, so hard to admit that I haven’t been taking care of myself properly. I pushed too hard again, and the emotional stress around Maya has tipped me over the edge.
Carol’s lips draw thin. “This is worse than the other ones. We’re at the hospital. We can have you looked?—”
“No.” It takes nearly the last of my energy to get the word out.
She doesn’t know what my flares have been like recently, because she hasn’t been around. And, of course, that’s not her fault—we live states away. I just wish she understood that this is my body, my flare. I know how to deal with it. There’s nothing the hospital can do for me anyway. If they admit me and I get in to see a doctor, they’ll just look at me like I’m crazy for asking to be seen when I already know how to care for myself.
“There’s no point,” I tell my aunt.
“Of course there is.” She shakes her head, long earrings sweeping against her shoulders. “This isn’t like the other ones.”
“It is,” Michael says. “Her last flare was like this.”
Carol’s face turns red. “I’ve known Hannah for years. If she doesn’t?—”
“And Hannah knows her own body.” His voice is calm and collected but firm. He turns back to me. “Hannah?”
Michael touches my wrist, and I wince. It’s a light touch, but it sends pain up my arm.
“Sorry.” He withdraws his hand. “Let’s get you home. Would you like me to carry you?”
I shake my head. That would be too painful. As hard as it is to walk, I’ll manage.
Carol huffs and stands. “All right. We’ll go home. I still wish you would stay here, though.”
The girls gather around, telling me it’s okay, that I need to get home and they’ll text when they hear more about Maya. All I can do is smile and shuffle my way to the door.
“You need to eat,” Carol is saying. “And we can stop and get you?—”
“I just need to rest,” I say.
She clicks her tongue. “Hannah, stop arguing. I know what I’m talking about.”
“She isn’t arguing.” Michael stands between me and her. “Carol, I know you want to help, but we’re going to follow Hannah’s lead here, and that’s not up for debate.”
Tears of gratitude fill my eyes, and I suddenly realize just how badly my aunt’s nervousness is wearing me down. What hurts doubly is the fact that she doesn’t seem to trust me. She doesn’t believe I know how to take care of myself.
With that realization comes another one. The last place I want to be right now is home. Because that’s where Carol is going.
I suck in a painful breath.
“Hannah?” Carol steps around Michael to look at me.
I swallow hard. “I…”
“Come to our house.” Katie blinks at me with big, caring eyes. “You can sleep in my room.”
It’s like she knows exactly what I need when I’m too afraid to admit it to myself. I need peace. Quiet.
Which I can’t get with my aunt around, as much as I hate that.
I lick my lips. “That sounds good.”
Carol’s face is incredulous. “Hannah…”
“I just…need this…” I trail off, exasperated, so tired at this point that my tongue feels like it’s made from lead. I’m not even sure how much longer I can speak for.
“I see,” she whispers.
“I’ll get the truck.” Michael jogs through the automatic doors.
Carol looks like she’s trying to say something, but she can’t get it out. My chest wrings tight. I’m not trying to hurt her, but how can I explain that?
Michael’s truck arrives, and Katie and Alexis help me into it, my aunt looking on like a lost puppy.
“I’ll text,” I tell Carol, voice cracking.
She frowns, eyes glossy, and then I look away.
Guilt fills me as we drive out of the parking lot, but I still know that I’m making the right choice for myself. If I go home with my aunt, she’ll hover constantly, and I won’t be able to get the rest I need.
Plus, if Michael and Katie are going to be in my life, they’ll see me flare eventually, and it’s better that they know what it looks like now.
That way, if they don’t like what they see, there’s still time to get out.
My chest constricts. Maybe this wasn’t the right decision. Maybe I should have them both stay here and gone home with my aunt instead. Other than Flick, she’s the only person who’s ever seen me have a full flare.
Well, them and Paul…
Who told me I was exaggerating the pain, that I was just stressed out.
The memories flood back, and even though I do my best to keep them at bay, they don’t go anywhere. I did the right thing and kicked Paul out of my life, but even years later, his cruel words and eagerness to make me wrong still linger.
As does the knowledge that it could all happen again.
So far, Michael has been accepting, but he really doesn’t know what he’s in for. He has no idea how bad things can get, how limiting it is to have someone like me around.
And once he sees what it’s truly like, there’s no going back. He’ll either accept it… Or he’ll leave.