He grabs me in a hug that crushes all of the air out of my lungs. The room blurs out of sight through my tears as I hug him back. His hands close around my arms, gently but firmly as he pushes me back so he can see my face. He looks like he aged ten years since I saw him last night.
“How is she? Did they tell you anything yet?”
“No.” I swipe at my tears. “Not yet.”
I know Connor wants to do more for me. I know he and Elle both do. But that has nothing on how much I wish I could erase Dad’s pain in this moment. More of those precious seconds tick by as we hold onto each other, and he starts to shake. My Dad, the one person in the world who I can always count on to make things better, is as scared as I am. I squeeze my eyes shut, my tears freely flowing as that realization pitches me into complete desperation.
What if we lose her? I can’t be all that Dad has left in the world. I’m not enough.
The E.R. doors swing open, and I jump. A man wearing scrubs and a face mask hanging below his chin steps out into the waiting area.
“Ms. Lin?”
I clutch at Dad’s arm for balance, the floor feeling like it just dropped from under my feet.
“Yes?” I squeak.
The doctor seems to notice Dad for the first time. “Are you immediate family of Grace Lin?”
He nods. “I’m Grace’s husband. How is she?”
The doctor rubs his forehead and gives us both a stiff smile. Dad puts his hand on mine, and we stand together and listen. I went to the bathroom not too long ago, but I suddenly feel like I have to pee.
“Your wife is in relatively stable condition at the moment, but she’s not out of the woods yet.”
Stable condition. Not out of the woods yet. I start breathing again, the words repeating themselves in my head. Careful phrasing that doctors use in an attempt to reassure but at the same time try to prepare people for the worst. Only there are no words that can prepare anyone for the worst.
He’s still talking, and I try to concentrate on what he’s saying, recognizing some terminology from my anatomy and physiology classes. Deep vein thrombosis. Pulmonary embolism. Two broken ribs from when CPR was administered. Oh, Mom… I grip Dad’s hand a little tighter as he goes on to explain, and my own heart aches as he tells us that Mom hadn’t had a true heart attack. Her heart had undergone arrest in the pool but they were able to confirm with a scan that it was because of a blood clot from her leg that traveled to her lungs. Had we noticed her being short of breath? Had she complained of chest pain prior to this?
My dad looks as shell-shocked as I feel. Mom had complained about being sore, begged off from swimming, was limping but dismissed it. She must have felt what the doctor is describing but downplayed it because she hadn’t wanted us to worry. I saw some of the signs, but I hadn’t put any of it together.
My legs feel weak, and I glance over at the chairs where Elle’s now sitting next to Connor. I wish for all the world that I didn’t have to stand here and listen to this. The doctor is still talking, throwing out specialized terms left and right. Terminology that not even I understand and I’m sure my dad doesn’t, either, and I’m starting to become angry on top of everything else. The doctor looks young, can’t be more than a few more years older than me. He seems competent, but his bedside manner leaves a hell of a lot to be desired.
“She’ll be on bed rest with anticoagulant treatment until we can be sure that there’s no danger of clots reforming. And of course, we’ll need to do an echocardiogram to check for damage to her heart.”
“Please. May we see her?” Dad manages to keep his voice steady, but I can pick up how anxious he is.
“Yes. She’s sedated now but you can see her.” He hesitates. “Your daughter said your wife didn’t have any underlying medical conditions. Is this correct? Is there any family history of clotting issues?”
Dad’s posture grows rigid, and I look at his face. White as a sheet.
“Grace hasn’t ever had an…embolism. But her father had one. That’s actually how he died.” His tone takes on a different kind of agony as he averts his eyes from me.
What? I blink, the rest of me feeling paralyzed at the news, over the fact that I’m hearing this for the first time. I had never known my grandfather because he died before my mother had met my dad, but I was always under the impression that he had passed away because of a simple heart attack. But they must not have thought the details were important to tell me. Maybe not, but it still comes as a shock.
“Good to know,” the doctor says. “I’d advise running some extra tests, with your consent of course, to see if she tests positive for one of several possible genetic clotting disorders. And of course there’s always diseases like diabetes and lupus which come with the increased risk of deep vein thrombosis…”
He goes on and on about possible tests while I go into a mild trance. Some of those diseases he’s mentioning are heritable, and if my grandad had the same thing, it’s possible that Mom has it, too. But I’m jumping ahead of myself now, and I don’t want to take the next leap and think about what it might mean for me...
“...No matter what, Mr. Lin, I promise we’ll get down to the cause of this. Hematology is my specialty,” the doctor says a little smugly. “Your wife is in good hands.”
“Thank you,” Dad says. “I’ll sign the consent forms for the testing, of course. It’s best if we know.”
I need to know, too.
23
Connor
“God, I’m such a mess inside, for all of them.” Elle sits next to me, her head leaning against my shoulder. We’ve been here all afternoon, and she’s been trying to entertain me for the past hour by reading me random stuff from her phone. I’ve been tolerating it.
“Yeah, I know,” I say.
“Like I don’t see my parents very often, but I think I’d be wrecked if my mom had a heart attack or embolism or whatever.”
I don’t respond to that. If Cruz hadn’t told me our father was still alive, I wouldn’t have necessarily assumed he was. And to hear that our father was dying did nothing to me emotionally. He’s been dead to me for years.
“It kinda makes you think about your own mom, you know?”
Okay, Elle. You can shut the fuck up now.
She jerks away from me, her hand over her mouth as what she said finally hits her. “Oh, shit. Connor, I’m such an asshole. My head’s not on straight right now. I didn’t mean to…”
“I know,” I interrupt.
I sound like I’m on repeat today, but I don’t know what else to say. I’m not gonna tell Elle that it’s okay, because it’s not. She hits herself on the forehead with her fist and invites me to do the same. But the damage is done. Her words make me think about my mom.
I haven’t allowed myself to remember her for years, because my most vivid memory of her was from that day that Cruz and I came home from school and she was gone. We tore through the house to find a lot of her stuff missing, and then we waited all afternoon for her to come home. I finally gave in by evening and called my dad at work – something we were never supposed to do. Cruz yelled at me the entire time to not call him. He was right. We both got our first bad beating from our father when he got home that night.
All of my hope slowly died as the days and weeks passed. It was about six months before I could finally admit to myself that she’d never be back. By then, I stopped talking about running away and finding her. Cruz would get angry whenever I mentioned her, anyway. He knew from almost the day she left that she didn’t want us anymore.
If I make myself try, I can remember – the way she snuck a special note into our lunches for school every day. How she always smelled like the flowers she arranged at the shop where she worked. The sound of her sweet, lilting voice when she told me and Cruz stories before bedtime. We didn’t have many books, and the stories were usually ones she’d heard from her own mother or had made up herself.
Elle’s my family now, and the only thing I know for sure is that we’re here together,
united. And that I want to be here for Alex, if she’ll let me. She’s been back out to the waiting area periodically throughout the afternoon to give us brief updates – or to give Elle the updates, since she hasn’t once made direct eye contact with me – but she’s been gone for almost an hour and a half this time.
I don’t want to think about the things I loved about my mother. I don’t want to remember. But as I sit here with Elle and with my thoughts full of Alex, those good memories release from where they’ve been locked up in my head for so long. Maybe because I’m pretty sure that’s all that Alex is doing right now. Thinking about her mom and all the things she loves about her.
Right as I have the thought, Alex steps out into the waiting area, and she’s like a shadow of herself. If I could erase her pain, I would. In a heartbeat.
Elle and I both jump up at the same time, and Alex looks a little surprised that we’re still here, but it hasn’t even been a question for either me and Elle. We both decided independently that we’re not leaving until Alex does.
“She’s sleeping.” Her face is expressionless, her eyes dull. “They’ll run some more tests later. My dad told me that I should get some rest. And he wants me to go get dinner, but whatever.”
Her words almost slur at the end, and Elle exchanges concerned glances with me. I’d run down to the cafeteria and grabbed something for both of us while we were waiting. I think about doing the same thing now, but Alex might want something that doesn’t taste like cardboard. And she might want to get out of here considering she’s been here all afternoon and part of the evening.
“Did you eat anything today, hun?” Elle asks.
She shakes her head. “Dad had something to eat a while ago, but I’m not that hungry.”
“But a girl’s gotta eat.” I call up the same words she’d used when we went out for burgers, when she was helping me cope with my own shit. When things were better for her.
She still doesn’t look at me. “This girl’s fine,” she says, but there’s no fire in it.
The two of them walk arm in arm to the exit, and I follow with Alex’s bag, glad to be out of here.
“So, my dad’s going to spend the night here with her, but they won’t let both of us stay,” I hear Alex tell Elle. She lowers her voice. “Can I stay at your place tonight? I told my dad I’d be fine in the room, but…” She trails off, like she’s ashamed to say the rest.
I finish the thought for her in my head. She shouldn’t stay in that empty suite all by herself, and she doesn’t need to be ashamed of that. God, I want to take her in my arms so badly that I fucking hurt.
We step outside, and I pick up the pace to catch up to them. Elle hasn’t given Alex an answer yet, and she throws me a panicked glance before commencing to chew on her bottom lip. I know she’s stressing out because she has to go to work in forty minutes.
“Of course, hun,” she says anyway. “Whatever you need.”
I already knew this ten times over, but my cousin is a pretty incredible person. She anticipated this, and she’s been trying to find people to cover her for the last hour, but no go. I know she’ll risk getting in trouble at work by calling in sick at the last minute, that she’ll do it for Alex. Like I know she’d do the same for me if I ever needed it.
“Elle has to work tonight,” I interject, “but you can stay at my place if you want. There’s plenty of room there, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Alex averts her eyes. “I’ll go to Elle’s and wait for her to get back from work. I don’t need you to babysit me.”
Her tone is cold, but I know she has to be hurting bad right now. Elle and I both heard most of what the doctor said, pieced the rest of it together while Alex was out of the waiting area, and all of that is heavy shit for anyone to have to deal with. Exactly why she shouldn’t have to deal with it alone.
I know she has to be feeling pretty messed up inside right now, but I wish she’d let me in, just a little.
“I’ll call in sick,” Elle says quickly, but she looks worried. “It’s not a big deal.”
We get to the cars, and Alex lets loose with a drawn-out sigh. “No. I don’t want you to have to do that. You’ve done too much for me already. I’ll be fine until you get back.”
Elle shoots me a wide-eyed look. I know her shift is seven hours long, and we don’t even have to say anything out loud for both of us to know we’re in agreement. Alex shouldn’t be alone right now. This is a situation I can actually do something about, and I give Elle a slight nod. She blinks and takes Alex by the arm, steering her to the Civic.
“Okay, hun. I’ll take you to my apartment. You can use my bathroom stuff, and I have an extra toothbrush you can use.” She pauses before unlocking the door, looking dubious. “Unless you want to swing by your hotel room first to grab some clothes and other stuff?” I know what she’s thinking, that Alex is a good six inches taller than she is and curvier all around.
“No. I’ll be fine in this.” She gets into the passenger side of the car, still dressed for the pool, in t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops.
“Okay.” Elle shuts the door and runs over to me to grab Alex’s bag. Her eyes are wild as she looks up at me, and she speaks quietly and quickly. “Connor, I haven’t gone grocery shopping yet this week. I have jack shit in my fridge.”
“Don’t worry, Elle.” I hand over the bag, my eyes fixed on the passenger side of the Civic. “I’ll take care of it.”
Elle is practically vibrating with nervous energy when she throws open the door to her apartment twenty-five minutes later. She’s dressed in tattered black with extra spiky hair for work, her makeup excessive and dark.
She slips out into the hall and shuts the door behind her. “Fair warning. Alex doesn’t want you here,” she hisses. “She said as much as soon as we got here.”
Ouch. But given how chilly Alex has been to me all day, I’m not that surprised. I’m not about to lie down and roll over, either.
“I know what I’m doing. Go to work, Elle.”
“Okay, but I’m only agreeing to this because I can’t get any of the other girls to cover me,” she warns in a whisper.
“And because you know I care about Alex,” I add very seriously. I feel the truth of my own words as soon as I hear myself say them.
“Yeah, that too.” Her expression softens a little, and she critically eyes the bags in my hands. “Come in at your own risk.” She rolls her eyes and pushes open the door.
Elle’s apartment is essentially a studio with a kitchen and bathroom tacked on. It’s small, but she’s done well making every inch of it reflect her personality. Dark tapestries hanging on the walls next to provocative pieces of art. No TV, just tons of books spilling out of a tall black bookshelf and an overstuffed dark purple velvet couch to read them on. A bed with a black duvet and a sea of black and purple pillows.
Alex is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, and she gives Elle an accusatory stare as soon as I step inside.
“I need to run in to work, hopefully not for the whole shift, but at least to open,” Elle says firmly. “And I’m not leaving you alone.”
Alex doesn’t say anything to either of us, just turns away and lies face-down on the pillows. Elle hesitates, but I grab her around the neck in a hug, nodding toward the door as I release her.
“Get outta here,” I say. “See ya soon.”
“Bye, Connor. Bye, Alex,” she says loudly.
Alex doesn’t move, but I do. I take the t-shirt and sweats out of one of the bags and lay them on the bed a safe distance from her. They’re mine, and they’ll be way too big on her, but I’m betting it’ll be more comfortable than what she was wearing at the pool.
I walk over to the kitchen area and take out the remaining contents of the bags, putting away most of what needs to be refrigerated but spreading the rest of it out on the counter. I start cutting up vegetables, half an eye on Alex.
“Is there anything you don’t like?” I ask.
My question is me
t with silence, and I let it go. I resume dinner prep until she lifts her head from the pillow and glares at me.
“Right now? You.”
I set the knife down on the counter, wipe my hands on my jeans, and walk over to the bed. She stiffens, and I sit down on the edge of the bed and look at her, keeping my expression carefully neutral.
“Alexis…”
She closes her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It’s your name,” I point out. “Look, I gotta say this. I’m sorry for whatever it was that made you so mad at me at the pool the other night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you today when everything went down – it kills me that I wasn’t. I understand that your mother’s not in the clear yet and that you’re probably terrified right now. But I’m here for you.”
Her eyes are still closed, and she’s lying perfectly still. I take a chance and reach out, lay my hand on her leg. Feel her tense up but keep it there.
“I care about you,” I say firmly. “And there’s no way in hell I’m letting you stay here by yourself right now. So be angry with me if you want to, but I’m not leaving.”
She sits up, her leg almost kicking at me in her haste to move out of my reach, her eyes glazed with unshed tears.
“You want to know why I’m angry?” she spits out. “Do you really want to fucking know?”
She’s lashing out, and I’m the closest target. And I’ll take the hit because I meant what I said. Because I care about her, a whole hell of a lot. Maybe more than I’ve admitted to myself until now.
I meet her anger with as much calm as I can. “Tell me.”
“Because,” she snaps. “I was thinking about you at the pool this morning. I was thinking about how I could help you, about that whole Cruz thing, about how I really wanted you to be there swimming with me.”
I stare at her, frozen in place as she gets up on her knees so she’s eye to eye with me. Her tears are streaming down her cheeks now, her voice strangled. “I was thinking about you the whole time that my mom was stuck under a lane divider. I was thinking about you when I should have been paying attention to my mom. She almost died because of me!”
Losing Enough Page 21
