Page 101 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

Tam got up, taking Hen in her arms and patting her back. “I know, baby. I know.”

Her dad got up, standing with us, and Hen pulled back from her mom’s embrace. “Is there any news?”

Murphy repeated what Hen already knew—that it was a bad break and that there would be an emergency hip replacement the next day. Other than that, it would be a waiting game to see how well she recovered from surgery and which “skilled nursing” facility would take Cordelia.

Hen and I exchanged a look. We both knew that last part wasn’t going to be an option.

“I need to see her,” Hen said.

Tam replied, “It’s just Bertrand in there now. She’s allowed two visitors at a time.”

I reached for Hen’s hand. “Do you want me to come with you and see if he’ll trade?”

Hen shook her head, patting my hand with hers. “I’ll be okay. You can go home if you want.”

My eyebrows drew together. That wasn’t even something I’d considered, leaving her when she was going through this. Why would she have thought that’s what I would want? “I’ll be right out here,” I replied.

She nodded and slipped her hand from mine, the absence of her touch making me feel cold all over. Then she left the room and was gone.

I felt a hand on my mid back and looked to see Tam standing next to me. “Don’t take it personal, honey. She’s always been close with her grandma. I tried to get her to stay there in Texas, but you know how she is.”

A faint smile touched my lips. “She loves her family more than anything.”

And for a guy who claimed to love her, I was being unforgivably selfish for hoping to take her away.

60

Henrietta

Confession: I can’t do this anymore.

This wingof the hospital set me on edge. I could hear moaning down the hall, beeping from various monitors within the rooms. The nurses I walked past didn’t say anything, barely met my eyes.

I counted down the numbers until I reached Grandma’s room, then slowly pushed the door open. Bertrand sat at the chair next to our sleeping grandma’s bed, holding her hand that wasn’t hooked up to an IV.

There were two bags there, dripping fluid into her veins. And she looked so frail, her brown skin and silver hair a deep contrast to the stark white blankets and pillow behind her head.

At the sound of my footsteps, Bertrand turned to look at me, surprise clear in his face. “I thought you were in Texas.”

“I was,” I whispered, folding my arms around my middle to hold myself together. My legs felt weak, seeing Grandma like this again when I thought we were in the clear. It was so much like Grandpa lying in that hospice bed, fighting for each breath.

“Here,” Bertrand said, reaching for the wheelchair behind him and wheeling it next to the bed.

I sat in the chair, locking the wheels for stability.

“It was crazy, Hen,” he said, his voice low. “All of a sudden we heard this crash and then a scream. I can’t get that scream out of my head.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder. It must have been awful to witness. “I should have been there to make sure the walkways were clear.” Bitterness leached into my voice. We shouldn’t have been here on Thanksgiving night.

“It was a freak thing, truly. Kenner was trying to get a toy to come apart, and it slipped from his hands and flung back toward Grandma just as she was getting up to use the bathroom. Johmarcus and Laila feel awful, and Kenner was crying so bad to see his great-grandma hurt.”

My anger didn’t dissolve at the knowledge that it was a true accident and not just carelessness. It changed. I was mad at myself for not being there to support my family when shit hit the fan. I’d been off galivanting in Texas, riding horses, having sex, beingselfish. What other moments, tragedies, would I miss if I moved away to be with Tyler?

Bertrand slowly removed his hand from Grandma’s. “I’ll give you two some time.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Of course.” He patted my back one more time before leaving the room.

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