Page 26 of Forever Christmas
Chapter 10: Gavin
The hospital looms ahead. Corabelle’s father circles it, looking for the guest parking lot.
I’m glad we’re not where Finn died. That would have made this trip so much harder. Our baby was life-flighted to El Paso, where a much bigger hospital with a pediatric cardiac unit was housed.
But the Las Cruces medical center is still pretty impressive,all imposing structures and multiple levels.
“You know what room he’s in?” Mrs. Mays asks as we get out of the SUV.
“Main building,” I say. “Fifth floor.”
We wind our way through the rows of cars to the entrance. There’s a gift shop just inside, but I’m certainly not going to buy my dad a balloon.
A security guard points out the elevators.
As we rise through the levels, it hits me that I’mabout to face my father for the first time since Finn’s funeral. He was a big part of why I walked out. That was literally one of the worst days of my life, and the repercussions are only just now getting resolved.
Corabelle squeezes my hand. She looks beautiful, if a little weary. It’s been a long day of desert, wind, car repair, and confessions. But she’s here. I wonder what would have happenedif she wasn’t. Mom would have called. I would have refused to come. End of story.
But Corabelle changes every equation, makes my lopsided sums add up.
The elevator stops.
All hospitals smell the same, so I’m momentarily disoriented by memories. Corabelle, after her scare in the ocean. Finn, those tough days living in the NICU. Now my father.
Our somber party of four heads down the corridor.I pause at an intersection, peering at the signs directing us to clusters of rooms. Then I hear “Gavin?”
It’s my sister June.
I haven’t seen her in six years. She’s a young woman already, fourteen and spindly in red shorts and a striped top. But her face is starting to reveal the adult she will become, all dark hair and long lashes.
June rushes for me and almost knocks me backward with herhurtling hug. “Gavin! You’re here!”
When my arms go around her, I realize I was right to come here. It’s worth a thousand insults from my father to be with her.
My mom appears around the corner. “June, what in the world?” Then she sees me. “Gavin, baby!”
Soon, we’re a big clump of huggers. Corabelle gets in the fray. There’s crying and hiccups and exclamations.
Mom extricates herself first,smoothing down the front of her floral dress. She looks old fashioned in rose pink, a funny little flower pinned in her graying bun.
And old. The six years have hit her the hardest. Her eyes are deep set in a lined face. Gone are her signature mascara and pink lips.
“Your father is in a room,” she says. “They’ve had to keep him stable since the heart attack so he’d be ready for surgery.”
“He’sreally grouchy,” June says. “That’s why we were sitting out here.”
“Are you staying here in Las Cruces?” Mrs. Rotheford asks. “You must be bone tired.”
“We’ve been sleeping in his room,” Mom says.
“Which sucks,” June says.
“Watch your language,” Mom says.
June rolls her eyes.
Man, my baby sister says “sucks.” For the first time since the fuel pump, I manage to crack a smile.
