Chapter 4 - Waiting Room Light
The waiting room smelled like coffee that had been sitting too long and the cleaner they used on the floors. I sat between two empty plastic chairs and tried not to swing my feet.
Mom hadn't let me ride in the ambulance. She'd said I could come in the car with her and Dad, and I'd held onto the door handle the whole way to the county hospital while Dad drove too fast over the county road bumps. The light through the windshield had been too bright. Now everything inside was white and buzzing.
Mom sat to my left with her purse in her lap, both hands wrapped around the strap. Her beige blouse had a wrinkle down the front from where she'd leaned over Grandma Rose's bed. Dad sat to my right with his elbows on his knees, his dark blue shirt pulling tight across his shoulders. Nobody had talked since we'd checked in at the front desk.
A TV played low in the corner with the captions on. An older man across from us coughed into his sleeve. I counted the tiles on the floor from my sneakers to the double doors that said AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. I got to forty-two before the doors opened.
The doctor who came out wasn't old. He had short hair and tired eyes and a badge that said PATEL. He looked at his clipboard and then at us. "Family for Rose?"
Mom stood up so fast her purse slid. "Yes. I'm her daughter, Elena. This is my husband Mark and our daughter Lily."
He nodded at me, then back at Mom. "She had a stroke overnight. A pretty significant one, on the left side. Right now she's critical but stable. We're going to keep her in observation and run more scans."
I felt Mom's hand find my shoulder and squeeze. "Overnight?" she said. "When?"
Dr. Patel glanced at the clipboard. "Based on the presentation, likely several hours before she was found. Early morning. It's hard to be exact."
Dad made a noise next to me, like he'd breathed in wrong. He rubbed his hand over his mouth and his stubble made a rough sound.
Mom kept her eyes on the doctor. "Can we see her?"
"Briefly, in a little while. A nurse will come get you. One or two at a time." He looked at me. "You doing okay?"
I nodded because my throat felt closed. He gave Mom a card with a number on it and went back through the double doors. They swung shut with a soft hiss.
For a minute nobody moved. The TV kept playing. Mom sat back down and pulled her purse back into her lap.
Then Dad said, quiet, "I heard something."
Mom turned her head. "What?"
"Last night. Around three. I thought I heard — from her room. Like the bed creaking. Or — I don't know." He wasn't looking at either of us. He was looking at his hands. "I figured she was just getting up to use the bathroom. I didn't get up."
My stomach went cold. I remembered waking up once in the night because the house had settled, that loud crack sound the wood floors made. I hadn't looked at the clock.
Mom's fingers tightened on my shoulder. "Mark."
"I should have checked," he said. "If I'd checked at three —"
"Stop," Mom said. Her voice was low and flat. Not loud, but it cut. She glanced at me, then back at him. "Don't do this here."
Dad finally looked up at her. His eyes were red around the edges. "She was lying there for hours, Elena."
"We don't know that," Mom said quickly. "He said it's hard to be exact. Don't —" She paused and her gold necklaces caught the overhead light when she breathed. "Don't say that in front of Lily."
I stared at the tiles again. Forty-two tiles to the doors. I could feel both of them trying to be still for me and failing.
"Did Grandma call out?" I asked. My voice sounded small under the buzzing lights.
Dad opened his mouth. Mom answered first. "She was sleeping, honey. The doctor said overnight. That's all we know right now."
But Dad had said three a.m. He'd heard something at three a.m. and stayed in bed. Mom didn't want him to talk about it.
I looked from Mom's hand on my shoulder to Dad's hands hanging between his knees. They weren't agreeing. I could see it in the way Mom kept her chin up and Dad kept his head down, like they were pulling in different directions even sitting that close.
A nurse in blue scrubs came to the desk and called another name. Not ours. The older man stood up coughing and followed her back.
Mom reached over and smoothed my ponytail, the way she did when I was little. Her hand was shaking a little.
May you like
"We'll see her soon," she said.
Dad didn't say anything. He just kept staring at the double doors.
