Chapter 14
The hallway was the same as when Daniel had come down it. I hadn't realized how long it was until we all walked it together.
Daniel went first. He didn't do the slow silhouette thing anymore. He just walked with his hands at his sides, his bomber jacket making a soft sound when he moved. The light from the kitchen behind us made his shape less dark, and I could see the gray in his hair under the overhead light we'd left on. Mom's hand was on my shoulder. Not pulling me, just there. Warm through my white t-shirt. Her thumb moved a little, like she was checking I was still there.
We passed the spot where he'd first appeared. The floor still reflected that low light. But it didn't feel like someone was coming to get us. It felt like we were leaving together. My socks were quiet on the hardwood. Mom's shoes clicked once. Daniel stopped at the front door and waited for us, holding it open, and the night air came in. It was October air, cold and clean.
In the driveway Mom's car was already unlocked. Daniel had parked his old dark sedan on the street, but he came with us. Mom drove. Daniel sat in the passenger seat and turned around to talk to me in the back. I had my seatbelt on and the photo in my jacket pocket and the folded paper in my other pocket. The paper was the one from the envelope, the acknowledgment. I hadn't signed it. It felt heavier than paper should.
We didn't talk much on the county road. The streetlights passed over the car in flashes. Gas stations and the closed diner went by. Then Daniel shifted in his seat and looked at me.
"He's nervous," he said. His voice was low, calm like before. "Michael is. He asked me to tell you that."
I held the armrest. "Why would he be nervous?"
"Because he doesn't want you to think he didn't want you," Daniel said. He paused. "He did. He just didn't know how to be there. And then he was sick. He told me to tell you, even if you don't sign anything, even if you just say hi and leave, you were loved the whole time. Even without knowing."
Mom's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. I saw them there. She didn't interrupt.
"What if I don't know what to say?" I asked.
Daniel nodded like that was a normal thing to say. "You don't have to say anything perfect. He's the one who should be worried about that, not you."
We turned into the hospital parking lot. It was big and almost empty. The lights were bright and white and made everything look flat. Mom parked under one of them and turned the car off, but none of us got out right away. The engine ticked as it cooled. I could hear my own breathing.
Daniel got out first and opened my door for me. The air out there smelled like rain on asphalt. We walked toward the main entrance together. Mom stayed close on my left, Daniel on my right. Automatic doors slid open and warm air came out that smelled like cleaner and coffee.
Inside, the hallway was long and quiet. Not dark like our house hallway, but bright with that hospital light that hums. A nurse walked past with a clipboard. Our shoes squeaked a little on the linoleum. Daniel knew where to go. He walked ahead but not too far ahead, checking back to make sure we were keeping up.
We stopped outside a room near the end. The door was half open. I could see a bed and a monitor with a green line moving slow. I could see a man's hand on the blanket. I stopped walking.
My hand went into my pockets. In one, the photo with the crease down the middle. In the other, the folded paper that wasn't signed. My fingers were cold.
Mom leaned down a little so her face was near mine. Her hair was still pulled back, and I could see her gold earrings. Her voice was just a whisper.
May you like
"You don't have to decide tonight," she said. "Whatever you want to do, we do it together. Okay?"
I nodded but I didn't move forward yet. I just stood there at the threshold with both things in my hands, looking at that open door, with Mom's hand back on my shoulder and Daniel standing a step ahead, waiting for me to be ready.
