Page 2 of Most Valuable Players
I stand and stretch. “Come in.”
I grab my purse, prepared to celebrate my dad’s birthday. My brother and his new wife are meeting us. It should be fun. Although, it doesn’t really compare to a pool party with all the coolest kids at SH High.
When I open the door, mother’s face is not of happiness or celebration. My stomach drops, and my body tenses in preparation of receiving bad news.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Honey, it’s Gabby.”
* * *
People talk around me.My brain catches and fixates on single words. Hydroplaned. Unconscious. Critical. Brain Trauma.
I don’t care about any of it. I just want to see her. I want to march back there and see Gabby pop up out of bed and tell me it was all a big joke to get me out of the house for the night.
But it’s two long days and nights of sleeping in the waiting room before they let me into her room in the intensive care unit. I’ve been warned about the trauma of the accident, internal and external, but when I see her lying in bed bruised and covered in bandages, I run to her side and grab her hand. It’s only relief and happiness that brings the tears to my eyes as she tries to smile around the cuts on her face.
“Gabs.”
She opens her mouth and then closes it, frowning. “I…”
“What is it?”
A single tear slides down her face. “I can’t remember your name.” More tears fall, and each one breaks my heart a little more. “I know you’re important. I can feel it in here.” She slowly lifts a casted arm to her chest and taps. “But I can’t remember who you are.”
A nurse in blue scrubs enters the room. “Gabriella, I need to take you downstairs for a scan.”
The use of Gabby’s full name opens the floodgates, and every emotion I’ve felt in the past forty-eight hours assaults me at once.
“I’ll come back, Gabs.” I squeeze her fingers lightly and then flee like a coward out of the room.
Tears blurring my vision, I stumble into the small sanctuary of the hospital and let the sobs wrack my body. I curse God and then apologize and send up a quick prayer. I’m not sure where I stand on God, but this doesn’t feel like the right time to snub divine intercession.
A small head pops up in the front row, and I halt two rows back, leaving a respectable distance between us. A girl, no more than ten, turns and offers me a small smile. I wipe my face and nose and give her a half-hearted wave before settling into the pew. The wood creaks beneath me, and I gaze forward to the huge cross nailed to a cement block wall.
Little feet skip down the side of the room and a mass of blonde ringlets bounces beside me. “Hi, I’m Sunny.”
Of course she is. She exudes light and cheer, which is saying something in this shitty excuse for a house of worship.
“Hi, Sunny. I’m Blair.”
“I like your bracelets.” Her eyes track my arm as she studies the colorful adornments with wide-eyed wonder.
“Thank you. They’re friendship bracelets.” My voice breaks and I swipe at new tears.
“It’s okay to cry,” she says with reassurance. “Momma says we gotta cry out all the sadness to make room for hope to grow. Positive thinking attracts miracles.”
The door to the chapel opens and a woman looks in, finds Sunny and motions for her. “That’s my mom. Gotta go.” Sunny doesn’t wait for my goodbye, she runs into the arms of her mom. I watch as the frail woman hangs her head low and clings to the bundle of sunshine.
It’s too much, so I turn forward, giving them privacy and letting Sunny’s words take root. Positive thinking attracts miracles, huh? I close my eyes and say another prayer because, devoted believer or not, I’m willing to call in favors just in case, and then I push away all negative outcomes and only allow myself to imagine the future with Gabby by my side.
1
BLAIR
Present Day
“Well, that pretty much seals my fate.” Vanessa flashes her test, showing off the red F at the top of the paper. “Wanna come with me to get a drop slip?”
