Page 47 of No Place Like You

“Which hospital?” I ask. I look up to see Lucy start walking back toward the elevator to press the call button.

“New York Presbyterian.”

“Okay. I’ll be right there.” I hang up and turn to face Lucy. “Janet’s at the hospital.”

She nods as if she already knows. “Let’s go.”

I don’t bother to ask if she wants me to walk her home first. She’s already decided she’s coming with me. And even though I don’t want to put a damper on her Friday night, it would make this situation a little less scary with her by my side.

We make quick work to catch a cab, staying silent through most of the ride by avoiding questions like what happened or if Janet’s okay. Instead, we let the small talk from our cabbie and the muffled sounds of New York City traffic fill the quiet.

When we arrive at the emergency room, everything moves in a blur. I talk to people, a security guard and a receptionist, before finally being given a bed number in the ER. When I walk to the small room partitioned by a single curtain, I see Janet lying in a gurney, turned sideways in a half fetal position. The silk scarf she usually wears on her head, varying in different pastel colors, is no longer there, and I can see how much of her hair has been thinning. And with the oversized hospital gown she’s practically swimming in, I can really see how thin she is.

I swallow through the constriction in my throat, forcing down the knot that has taken residence there since Charles called me, and step toward her.

“What happened?” I ask. She turns slowly, looking at me over the curve of her shoulder.

“Probably an infection. Bronchitis or something. We’re still waiting on the doc to see me.”

“You still haven’t been seen yet?”

“They’re pretty busy.”

I huff, running a frustrated and aggressive hand through my hair.

“Hi, Lucy,” Janet says weakly at Lucy hovering by my side. She smiles and blinks heavily in our direction.

Lucy waves her hand with a gentle smile. “Hi, Janet.”

“Here,” Charles calls, standing from his seat. “Have a seat. It shouldn’t be too long. We called Dr. Pham, and she should be here soon.” He pulls an additional chair from the corner of the room. Once Lucy and I have settled into the seats sitting side by side, Charles takes the empty spot at the foot of the gurney, putting him closer to my sister.

The four of us sit in silence. The machines at my sister’s bedside aren’t beeping, and the noise outside is somewhat muffled. We hear the occasional chatter filled with medical jargon passing by from the other side of the curtain, along with the coming and going of footsteps. While the quiet is probably the best for Janet to relax and maybe even squeeze in a small nap before things get chaotic, it’s making the time go by slowly. I can feel the seconds tick and tick while the last five minutes feel like eternity. I start to fidget. My hands rub against the fabric on my thighs, and my knee bounces. I almost groan but stop myself when I see my sister’s eyes fall heavy.

I feel Lucy’s hand wrap around my arm, and I suddenly remember she’s here. She’s here, by my side, watching me slowly and painfully fall apart. She doesn’t know what’s going on, what the conditions of Janet’s illness are that brought her here into the emergency room in the middle of the night. But she’s here.

I finally look at her, and she looks at me. She runs her hand along the inside of my arm, and my hand covers her knee. Her lips press together into a small smile as if to silently say,I’m sorry. NotI’m sorry we’re here, butI’m sorry this is happening. We stay like that, looking at each other and forgetting tonight. Forgetting about our cozy dinner at home and the impromptu visit across the bridge. About Lucy’s doubts and reservations and wishing she could see the future. Even Janet laid up in a small gurney a few feet away from us. And it feels like it’s just us two and I don’t have to carry all of the scary and terrifying and heartbreaking things in my life. Like it’s actually going to be okay.

“Janet Greer?”

All four heads in the room turn to look at the person who just entered. The woman, who isn’t Dr. Pham, closes the curtain behind her and faces Janet with a calm, reassuring smile. “Dr. Pham is on her way,” she explains, her back turned to me and Lucy. “But she asked me to check in on you and get some labs started.”

From my side, I feel Lucy’s hand grip me harder and her head lower, her eyes averting toward the ground.

“I’m Dr. Marquez,” she goes on. She unravels her stethoscope from her white coat pocket and places the round drum on Janet’s chest. “Any trouble breathing?”

“Um, a little,” Janets answers. “Mostly when I move around a lot.” She takes a deep inhale while Dr. Marquez continues her examination.

“Any pain?”

“When I cough,” Janet answers. “I feel a little sore.”

Dr. Marquez nods. “Dr. Pham mentioned you’ve had this cough for some time now, so the achiness is most likely from overusing those muscles,” she explains. “We’ll start with some Tylenol for now to get the fever down a bit, and respiratory will be here to start a quick breathing treatment. I’m going to send the nurse in to get things going, and then we’ll go from there.”

Janet nods, and Dr. Marquez stands upright to leave. “Just press the call button if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Janet answers faintly.

In the midst of the back and forth between my sister and the doctor, I feel the relief spread through my body. If the doctor doesn’t appear too worried, then my sister should be fine, right?

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