Page 100 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

“Hey, is Hen okay?” Liv asked.

I turned in my seat to see Hen on the patio, her elbows resting on the table, her head in her hands. My heart dropped to my stomach, and the smile lingering on my lips quickly fell. “Excuse me,” I said, pushing back from the table in complete silence and walking to the sliding door that led to the porch. As soon as I got outside, Hen turned to face me, the porch light catching the tears streaking down her cheeks.

I hurried to her, dropping to my knees beside the table. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“Grandma—” Her voice broke and she sniffed, looking down at the table at her phone. “Grandma fell again. They think she has to have a hip replacement and she—and she—” Hen began sobbing, and through each cry, she sputtered, “She won’t be able to come home.”

“Oh my god,” I whispered, pulling her into my arms as she continued shaking. I wanted to fix all the pain I could feel rolling off of her. “Hen, I’m so sorry. Do we need to find a way to fly back? I’m sure I could book us something tonight if we need to go.”

She shook her head, pulling back to wipe her eyes. “My mom told me I should stay here, that Grandma has plenty of people around, but I feel so guilty. Like I should have been there for her, like I could have prevented it somehow.”

“What-if is a dangerous game,” I said, accentuating each word so she understood how much I meant what I was saying. “Even if you could have prevented this fall, there’s no guaranteeing it wouldn’t have happened another time when you were at work or busy with friends. We can only focus onnow. So tell me, what feels right in this moment? I’ll do whateveryouneed. Not what your mom wants you to do.”

She bit her lip, her eyes still full of tears. “I don’t want to ruin your family’s dinner.”

“It’s just food. It’ll keep.”

“I don’t want to miss out on meeting Gage. I know how much he means to you.”

“A million points, remember? He could fly us back tomorrow if we wanted to.”

She shook her head at me. “Sitting here and pretending to be happy when my grandma’s lying in a hospital bed feels wrong.”

I nodded, already knowing the answer. “Let’s go.”

We went back inside, and I explained what was going on to my family. Hen apologized a million times, but my mom hugged her and said, “Honey, you don’t need to apologize to us. Family is everything.”

I could have sworn my dad’s eyes misted over when she said that.

Hen hugged my mom back, uttering a quiet, “Thank you.”

Liv came upstairs with us, helping pack our bags back up, and then Hen and I were in the truck, rushing to Dallas. After five minutes on a call with Gage, we had seats on the evening’s last direct flight to LA.

It was the waiting that was the hardest. Watching Hen lean her head back on the truck seat and close her eyes, picturing god knows what.

I reached across the console to hold her hand, but it felt limp in mine, like she was somewhere else entirely. Selfishly, I ached to be closer to her, to be needed and leaned on, but I was doing the best I could, and that had to be okay.

The three-hour flight to LA was almost as torturous as the hour drive to RWE Memorial Hospital in Emerson. We parked in the parking garage, and I had to lengthen my strides to keep up with Hen’s quick pace. We had to go through the emergency entrance since it was nearly midnight, and Hen quickly said to security, “I’m here to see Cordelia Jones.”

The guard looked from Hen to me. “Are you family?” he asked.

Hen nodded.

“Trauma unit, room 1431. Follow the red lines.”

Trauma. The word sounded harsh on my ears. Cordelia was in a trauma unit from her fall? She was tough, but this... it was a lot.

The side door automatically opened with the sound of metal sliding against metal.

Hen took the visitor sticker from the security guard and said, “Let’s go.”

I followed her, the halls mostly empty around us save for the sounds of the night shift. But the smell was there—chemical and sweet at the same time. It made my stomach turn. The fluorescent lights were even harsher at night, slightly orange, and eerie against the painted cinderblock walls.

The sound of talking grew louder as we turned the corner and came to the trauma unit’s waiting area. Almost all of Hen’s family was there. Imani and Raven were there, but I assumed Laila had taken Kenner and A’yisha home for bedtime.

When they saw us, Johmarcus looked up and said, “What are you two doing back here?”

Hen was looking straight at her mom as she choked out, “I’m sorry, Mom. I had to be here.”

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