Page 69 of Crazy for You
“Can Georgia see my dad?” The hospital rules said only close family was allowed in, but Georgia was family. Besides, if anyone could break the rules, it was Dr. Branson. He was head of the ER.
“Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s see how your dad responds to meds. And we’re about to run some scans on his lungs. Until then, no other visitors.”
“She doesn’t know about Dad,” I said. “I don’t have my phone, either.”
“I’ll tell her. I’ll be back after I have the results of the scan.”
The minute he was gone, I cried hard. The heaviness on my heart was too much. As I had a ton of times before, I checked his chest to make sure he was still breathing, although the monitor behind his bed said he was.
Holding Dad’s hand, I bowed my head. “God, if you’re listening, could you give my dad a little more time with me? And Dad, please pull through. I want a chance to tell you more about Colton. I want to tell you that I love you more than you know. I want to see you smile, to see your blue eyes light up when we reminisce about Mom.” I sighed, trying so hard not to collapse with grief, which was an impossible feat.
Whatever happened next was in God’s hands.
27
Nine solid days of hell had passed since Dad had been rushed to the hospital. I’d barely eaten or slept, and I definitely hadn’t gone to school. I wasn’t leaving Dad’s side even if truant officers tried to pry me away.
Nan had insisted I go home, have a shower, and get a good night’s sleep. I almost laughed in her face. Home was the last place I wanted to be. Too many memories, and Dad wasn’t there.
I couldn’t leave the hospital. I had to be close and able to react at a moment’s notice, especially since Dad had slipped into a coma. He’d had several ups and downs with his fever spiking, then dropping. The scan of his lungs showed pneumonia, which wasn’t surprising. What was, though, was the fact that meds weren’t working to clear it up.
A pine scent mixed with some other type of cleaning solution burned my nostrils as I passed an open door to a restroom on the first floor. The smell seemed to jar my brain and open my eyes just before I bumped into a person in a wheelchair.
I skirted around the old man. “I’m so sorry.”
The gray-haired man gave me an easygoing grin as though people ran into him all the time. I was sure they did. When Dad had gone out in public in his wheelchair, people didn’t pay an ounce of attention to where they were going and often stumbled or fell into him.
I continued down the hall, passing medical personnel. I was on my way to meet Georgia. I hadn’t seen her since the day Dad had been rushed in, and with him in ICU, there were definitely no visitors other than Nan and me. No matter how much pull Dr. Branson had in the ER, he didn’t have a say in the ICU.
I rounded the corner and found Georgia. It was easy, considering that the lobby was empty, save for Georgia and a man in a business suit who was pacing near the entrance with his phone to his ear.
She pushed off the wall, and even though sadness was stamped on her pretty face, I was stoked to see her.
We met in the middle and embraced like lovers who hadn’t seen each other in years.
She cried. I cried.
After a long minute, she guided me to a bank of empty chairs along the wall.
“You look great,” I said.
She was dressed in black skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a knit top that hugged her curves.
She tucked a blond curl behind her ear. “Given what you’re going through, you look good too.”
I smiled weakly. I didn’t think I did. But Nan had brought clean clothes. I’d been able to freshen up in one of the restrooms up on the ICU floor. That day, I was wearing an old pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. They kept the ICU rather cold for some reason.
“I begged my dad to let me see your dad,” she said. “He told me this morning he would get me up to ICU.”
“Really? Dad isn’t awake, but he might be able to hear your voice.” I believed he could hear mine. Anytime I talked to him, I swore the corners of his mouth turned up a tick. Deep down, I knew I was imagining that, but I had to believe he was listening.
She frowned. “Everyone at school is asking about you. Mia wanted to come, but she has a game tonight, and I told her she couldn’t see your dad even if she did.”
I picked at a finger. My nails were gone. I’d bitten each one down to the nub. “Do you know if Colton is still in town?” I swallowed before holding my breath.
I hadn’t heard from him since he’d brought me to the hospital. I had, however, thought about him a lot and about what he’d said:I want to say so many things. But I know it’s not the time. Just know I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.
His last line had found a home in the forefront of my mind as I wondered if he had left after all. Nan had told me the Caldwell house seemed quiet and dark, which she’d found odd. I did too. Colton had planned to stay with a friend in Virginia, but maybe he and his parents had decided to get away as a family. For Colton’s sake, I hoped he could work out his differences with his dad. He didn’t need to shoulder the blame for his brother’s death. Regardless, as much as I would have loved to see Colton, Dad came first.
