by Hazel Kelly
But maybe he could sense my feeling behind those promises.
Or maybe praying was no more useful than worrying, but at least it gave me something to do to keep me from imagining the worse.
Besides, I sure as hell wasn’t going to have Sophie not walk out of the hospital just cause I was too stubborn to pray.
So I did. Just in case.
It was my own composition- a hybrid of the few prayers I’d learned by heart as a kid- but hopefully it was the thought that counted.
“So are you a single dad?” Ashley asked.
“I am, yeah,” I said, picking up by her tone of voice that she was expecting me to participate for a second.
“Wow.”
I forced a smile, trying to give her the benefit of the doubt that she was just one of those young women that feared the weight of a moment’s silence.
“That must be hard,” she said.
I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. “Usually it’s okay,” I said, wringing my hands together. “But it’s times like these when I feel like a fool for thinking I was ever up to the job.”
Chapter 8: Addison
When the elevator doors closed, I put my hands on the wall and looked down at the floor, trying to steady my breath.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He’s a dad. With a kid, a kid in a coma with blond hair and a tangle of friendship bracelets around her tiny wrist.
My throat closed up as I thought of how helpless she looked surrounded by all those serious faced people in scrubs.
Poor Wyatt. It was hard for me to see Sophie like that. He must’ve been beside himself.
The elevator door opened, and I lifted my head. When I saw the nurse and the man in the wheel chair, I scooted into the back corner to make room for them. The old man’s face looked like worn leather and the skin on his neck looked like bunched curtains.
I smiled at him.
“Sarah?” he said, looking at me. “Is that you?”
The nurse behind his chair shook her head. “Don’t mind him.”
“It’s been so long since you came to visit me.” His voice sounded scratchy in his throat.
“Dementia,” the nurse said. “Sarah’s his daughter who never comes.”
“How long are you staying?” he asked me.
The nurse put her hand on his shoulder and lowered her head to say something-
“It’s okay,” I said, crouching down. I put my hand over the man’s frail knee. “I can’t stay. I just wanted to say hello and see that you were okay.”
“Thank you,” he said, patting my arm with his free hand. “But you should’ve brought my grandchildren.”
I swallowed.
“Next time,” he said.
I nodded. “I will if I can.”
His kind eyes seemed to sparkle from being acknowledged.
“That was nice of you,” the nurse said as the elevator dinged. “He’s lonely most of the time.”
I watched her wheel the patient off the elevator, wondering if I did the right thing. I mean, it was scary not knowing what was going on with him or through his head. But I swear I could see in his eyes that he was just desperate to recognize something for what it was. The doors closed again, and the elevator kept going up.
Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe that was a weird thing to do. Whatever. If it helped him not feel lonely for a second that was okay, right?
The nurse didn’t seem to disapprove anyway. Oh well. It was too late now.
I stepped off on the fourth floor, my eyes scanning the walls and ceiling for a sign pointing towards the cafeteria. I found it on the wall to my right and followed the arrows.
As I walked across the shiny, beige tiles, I wondered how many other lonely people were stuck in that building, past their fighting fit prime. I wondered if my parents died in a hospital. Or if they were still alive.
And if they were alive, did they have dementia, too? Or did they remember me? Would they recognize me if they saw me? Or did they have other children who visited them wherever they were, and I was just a dirty secret that nobody recalled anymore?
I got a chill as I turned the corner. It was so cold it was eerie, as if the hospital administrators were keeping the place extra cold so if one of the healthy people croaked, the frigid air would preserve their organs better. I rubbed my forearms with my hand, trying to warm up my skin.
I wondered what Sophie’s skin felt like. Was she overheated and hot to the touch? Or were her thin arms feeling the cold?
I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine what Wyatt must’ve been going through. I had no idea what it was like to be responsible for someone else. And she was nine? And her mom was dead? How was a guy like him even coping? Or was he not the guy I thought he was at all?
Maybe I had him all wrong. If this morning had been my first impression of him, I would’ve been positive that he was a father above anything else, whereas the previous forty eight hours had me convinced that he was merely a seductive user with gifted hands.
Not that I didn’t want to be used.
He was the first guy ever- besides the professor I had a silly crush on- that I actually willed to use me. And he’d introduced me to all these new things. I mean, I didn’t exactly swim, but I did get in the boat, and I managed to give him a blow job that he seemed to approve of. Or at the very least, I hadn’t exposed myself as the sexual rookie that I was.
Or maybe he was just too polite – or grateful- to say anything. But at least I’d kept my teeth out of the way. Wasn’t that the most important rule?
I took a deep breath and blew the air out slowly. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that right now. It wasn’t appropriate. Then again, I was so confused. Everything that had happened in the last hour revealed a totally different Wyatt than the one I thought I knew.
And yet I wasn’t turned off.
Sure, part of me wanted to run for the hills. I mean, he was a dad. I had no business spending any more time with him. And yet, seeing him distraught like that made me want to stay by his side and make sure he was okay. After all, he’d done nothing but try and make me feel good from the moment we met.
And he was clearly out of his comfort zone right now. So naturally I felt like I should stand by him, at least until his family arrived. I owed him that. Plus, he was right. I was cool under pressure.
I just wished there was more I could do.
And that seeing him in concerned dad mode didn’t turn me on so much.
Ugh. What kind of freak was I?!
I turned another corner and almost ran right into a small dumpster on wheels full of medical waste. There was something eerie about the contrast between the sterile smell and the sight of liquids and syringes and bloody gauze in bags.
I crinkled my face. I so didn’t need to see that stuff on the way to the cafeteria.
And then I thought of Sophie again. Did she know her dad was here rooting for her? Did the guy in the elevator know I wasn’t really his daughter? Was I going to die alone?
I walked through the cafeteria doors and saw a line of people looking sickly and green under the florescent lights. Each one was holding a plastic red tray and waiting for their chance to choose whatever warmed food seemed the least offensive.
When I got in line, I realized my skin must have looked just as sallow under the humming lights, and all I could think about was the people in line in front of me and how we were all going to die alone.
Sure, maybe some of us would be lucky enough to have people physically near us when it happened- maybe even people who genuinely liked us- but when the time came, all that would fade away.
And I wouldn’t even be one of the lucky ones.
Not with the way things were going. I mean, if I got my way, I was going to be so super successful I wouldn’t even need friends I’d have so much money, power, and responsibility.
Not that I’d never considered the consequences of my cut-throat ambition before.
But what if
there was more to life than work and I was totally missing the point?
Then again, I adored my job, and it was the only thing I could ever imagine having such strong affection for. People were too unreliable. They’d let you down every time.
Still, being doomed to die alone was one thing.
It was being alone in life that was starting to seem overrated.
Chapter 9: Wyatt
I should’ve been by Sophie’s side. I didn’t even know if she knew I was there. What if she was scarred? What if she only woke up for two seconds and I wasn’t there for her?
Was it really such a big ask for me to sit back there and hold her hand?
I could stay out of the way.
I closed my eyes and sighed. When I tried to quiet my racing thoughts, all it did was give rise to the crying I could hear coming from the hallways off the waiting room.
I wished Sophie would wake up and cry. Unlike a lot of the other drained looking parents in the waiting room, crying would be good in my kid’s situation. It would mean she was awake. It would mean that her risk of brain damage was lower, that she might actually come through this unscathed.
I shook my head. How could she let herself get so low? She was so responsible with her insulin. Ever since she was a little girl she understood how accountable she needed to be for her health, which was a miracle considering her mom’s apathetic attitude towards personal care.
But Sophie’s diabetes was a double edged sword. On the one hand, it was the reason she was so mature, the reason I could take her anywhere and be proud of the way she carried herself. On the other hand, it was like a curse that never lifted, a curse that made it so we both had to be ready for even the most carefree moment to be snatched away and turned into a medical emergency.
Frankly, it was fucking bullshit. Innocent kids shouldn’t get life threatening diseases, especially a good kid like her.
“Can I get you anything?” Ashley asked after her third trip to the water cooler.
“No thanks,” I said. “I’m sure Addison will be back any second now.”
She nodded.
“Actually.” I straightened up. “You really don’t need to stay. You probably have a bunch of campers you should get back to.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because I’m under strict instructions to stay as long as necessary.”
“You should go,” I said. “I appreciate you taking the ambulance over with her, but there’s no reason for you to spend the rest of the day here.”
Ashley looked down and then back at me.
“Do you need a cab or something to get back to camp?”
“That’s okay,” she said, lifting her backpack off the floor. “One of the other counselors will come pick me up whenever I call.”
“Thanks again for staying with Sophie until I got here.”
“No problem, Mr. Jones. It was my pleasure.”
I stood up and shook her hand.
“The other kids and I will be looking forward to seeing Sophie again when she gets out of here.”
I nodded. It was a nice thing for her to say, and if going back to camp was what Sophie wanted when she woke up, I would do everything in my power to get her there.
“Could I ask you something?” Ashley said, wedging her thumbs under the straps of her backpack.
“Of course.”
“Would it be terrible if I asked for your autograph?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Sophie was bragging about you one day and some of the other counselors and I looked up some of your old songs-”
I tried not to visibly flinch at the mention that my songs were old. Then again, Ashley was probably Sophie’s age when they came out.
“And some of them were really good and I just thought- never mind- it’s totally inappropriate of me to even mention it when-”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Really.”
She raised her eyebrows and clasped her hands together. “Yeah?”
“Sure. I don’t mind.”
“Thanks,” Ashley said, slinging her backpack in front of her. “My camp supervisor will be so excited. She played one of your songs at her wedding.”
“That’s nice,” I said. “I hope it was a lovely day.”
“It sounds like your song was probably the only good thing about it actually.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Well, I guess that’s something, too.”
Ashley handed me a marker and a blank piece of paper.
“So Sophie was bragging about me, huh?”
“Yeah,” Ashley said. “I think it’s the only reason she gets away with being so bossy in music class.”
“Bossy?”
“Yeah. She can always tell when someone hasn’t tuned their guitar properly.”
My chest swelled with pride.
“And she’s even worse when it comes to the piano.”
I smiled. “That is her area of expertise.”
“I know, and she’s made it very clear that she doesn’t approve of the fact that we let the kids play around without testing them on what the pedals do.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s good. At first the other kids thought she was a bit of a know-it-all, but when they found out her dad was a famous musician, everybody started listening to what she had to say.”
“I’m sure she loved that.”
“Yeah,” Ashley said, her eyes tearing up. “I hope she’s okay. She’s one of my favorite kids and if-”
“She’ll be fine,” I said, laying my hand on her shoulder. “She’s lucky you were on the ball to get her here so fast.”
She dragged the back of one of her fingers against the corner of her eye. “I hope so.”
I handed Ashley my autograph and her pen.
“Thanks, Mr. Jones.”
“You’re welcome.”
She shoved the paper back in her bag. “Maybe we could take a quick selfie?”
“Maybe another time,” I said, feeling the usefulness of the momentary distraction had expired.
“Like when you bring Sophie back to Tanner?”
“Sure,” I said. “That sounds good.”
She zipped up the pocket on the outside of her bag. “Okay.”
“Bye Ashley.”
“Bye.”
Her ponytail swung behind her as she walked out, and I knew I did the right thing by sending her home- or back wherever she wanted to go. She was just a kid, probably working at Tanner because her friends did and because it was a chill summer job, not because she was looking to take trips to the hospital. But I was grateful she’d come, grateful that Sophie hadn’t been in the ambulance by herself with strangers poking and prodding her.
A moment later, I was back to wondering who was by her side. I hoped it was the best they could get. I hoped it wasn’t like one of those TV episodes where suddenly only the interns are available and my daughter’s life was in the hands of horny orderlies with hangovers. Dear god let her be surrounded by the best experts money could buy.
Then again, talk about a situation where money was useless. Ashley might’ve thought I was someone special after Sophie made an embarrassing fuss, but to the nurses and the doctors here I was just another stressed out dad who didn’t understand the monitors his own kid was hooked up to. And no money in the world was going to get me back in that room before the doctors were ready to see me.
I just hoped it was soon because it was freezing in here and all I could think about was her little t-shirt and her jelly sandals and how they were probably frozen against her feet right now. Or if someone had taken them off, what did they do with them?
Because they were the clear ones she liked best and they were so hard to find when they were lost. I’d misplaced them more times than I could count, and Sophie and I would laugh for ages when we found them cause they were always right in front of us the whole time.
I shook my head and swallowed. My mouth felt dry but the glugging water cooler was too far away. What if the nur
se came looking for me and she didn’t see me cause I was getting a drink? I should stay put.
But I needed to do something, something to take my mind off what was going on inside me and around me and down the hall.
If only I’d come up with something more constructive than Googling “Diabetic Coma.”
Chapter 10: Addison
When I finally got to the warm glass cases, my fingers were sticky against the tray.
And I wished I could say the stuff on offer was worth the wait, but I’d never seen a less appetizing display in all my life.
First, I shuffled past the food under the warming lights: dry looking chicken pieces, broccoli hunks floating in standing water, and buttered toast that was damp with condensation.
I felt my gag reflex wretch.
Then I thought of Wyatt. I couldn’t believe I drank him down so effortlessly like that. What kind of foxy vixen was I? I mean, that was the kind of trick I’d expect from a sorority pledge. And while I was doing it I felt so excited, and it was nice to feel excited about something besides out-witting someone at the office.
I thought of the office with its maroon carpet runners and the chipped mug in the kitchen I always went for when it was clean. I didn’t miss the politics. That was for sure.
And as far as the mental and physical energy the job demanded, I hadn’t missed that yet, either… probably cause Wyatt had kept me on my feet from the minute he started banging on that porch.
I wondered if he was done working on the house or if he would pick up again once he knew Sophie was alright. Would this be goodbye? I mean, the guy clearly had other priorities and so did I.
If his kid was even half as demanding of his time as my job was of mine, it would never work out. Plus, I couldn’t have a kid. Or wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure which, of course, but it didn’t even warrant thinking about.
The next section at the food counter was like some kind of stomach curling guessing game. There were dozens of small bowls filled with different colored items, but I couldn’t identify any of the foods because each bowl was topped with super tight cling film that was squashing the contents of every single one.
