by Jeff Moberg
***
When I woke up the next morning, Andrea was taking my vital signs again. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she said softly. “How are you feeling today?” I didn’t think it was possible, but I actually felt worse than I had the day before. I smiled weakly. It was a lying smile. Mom was in a chair next to my bed, sleeping. I knew that she had been there all night and I wondered if she had gotten any sleep at all.
During the next three days, I slowly healed, I slowly recovered, and I slowly felt better—little by little. I had many visitors, including Luke and his mom every day after school. Family members brought flowers and cards, and the entire girl’s varsity basketball team, including Ms. Marshall, came by with a bunch of balloons that said, ‘Get Well Soon!’. Mabel squeezed my hand and whispered, Coach M kicked Janet J off the team—and Old Looney suspended her for five days!”
My dad came in every morning to check on me and he said I was doing great. I had to admit that Andrea had been super sweet to me and I was starting to feel OK about her. On the last morning of my hospital visit, Mom and my dad both came in. My mom sat down next to the bed and said, “Your father has something to tell you honey.”
I was a little worried by the way she was acting. “Is something wrong?” I had had bandages on my face and my nose and cheeks felt swollen and numb, but everything was starting to feel better.
My dad stood on the other side of the bed and leaned close to me. “No, no, Punkin. Nothing is wrong. You are doing great and everything is healing up just fine.” He looked over at Mom. I couldn’t tell if she was happy or not. I knew it was hard for her to be around Andrea, since she was so young and cute, but she seemed to be handling things OK. My dad continued, “When they brought you in here, honey, you had a badly broken nose and a cracked cheekbone. I had to do surgery to fix the cheekbone and I also had to clear your breathing passageway. So… since I was already working on your nose, I just figured that I might as well fix it like you had asked me to before.” He glanced at Mom again. “I hope you’re OK with that honey.”
Suddenly, I had tears streaming down my face. But they weren’t tears of sadness. When the best reconstructive and plastic surgeon this side of Hollywood tells you that he just fixed your bent, crooked nose, you’re not sad. I was crying tears of joy. At first, he was worried that I was upset, but then I hugged him and whispered, “Thank you Dad. I love you.”
