Page 9 of This Love
The crowd quieted as I walked over to where Gram sat in the front row with our close friends, Maya and Big Harry.
“You were supposed to come from the side,” Gram said. “Change of plans?” Then she took in my face. “Oh, no. It happened?” She knew my fear. Worry about Ava had been a constant for us since the beginning.
I nodded. “They took her to Seton. We need to go.”
Maya leaned forward, concern etched into the wrinkles of her smooth, brown face. “What can we do?”
“I guess let everyone know. Have dinner, maybe?”
She patted my hand. “Don’t worry about us. Harry and I have got this.”
I helped Gram get to her feet. I wanted to hurry, to rush to Ava, but there would be no point.
By the time we got to the hospital, the seizure would be over. Ava would be sitting in a room with her father and stepmother and sisters. She’d be lost, possibly defensive, probably trying to hide her confusion.
And all of us would have become total strangers.
Chapter 4
Ava
Everything itched.
Opening my eyes to see what was scratching my neck and arms was too painful. The light blinded me instantly, so I squeezed them shut again.
My fingers closed over the rough fabric at my collarbone and tore it away.
That was better.
A voice cried, “Ava! Your dress!”
I didn’t know who it was or who they were talking to or why they were so upset, so I ignored it. I needed to work on whatever was irritating my upper arms.
I worked the fabric between my thumb and first finger, and the word for it arrived.
Lace.
Right. Lace itched.
Another voice said, “She’s ruining her gown.”
They were talking about me. The tone made my stomach quiver. I pressed my hand there, willing it to stop. It was uncomfortable and made me feel jittery.
But my body wasn’t still. I was lying down on something, but the something was moving. It bounced, and my head lifted, then slammed onto the floor.
“Owwwwww.”
“Marcus, cushion her head.” The first voice.
I bloomed with pain. I squinted as hard as I could and peeked at my surroundings.
Five faces peered down at me. All their expressions made the jittery feeling get worse, so I closed my eyes again.
“Go away,” I said, covering my eyes with one hand and holding out the other.
Another voice, deeper than the others. “Ava, I’m your father. Do you know what a father is?”
I did. Somehow. I sensed connection. Mother and father and children. Who was my father?
