Page 111 of Unbreakable
Jeanine and the girls rounded the corner as I was trying to pull myself together. So many emotions crossed Jeanine’s face when she saw me: concern, anger, outright fury, and the one that hurt the most, disappointment.
“What did the doctor say?” she asked as she got close. “What’s wrong?”
“Girls, go talk to Grey, okay?” I said, opening the door to his room for them.
Then it was just me and Jeanine and all the rightful animosity she felt toward me.
“He, um . . .” I started.
“What?” she asked, her face paling. I slid my hand into hers and gave it a squeeze, but she didn’t return it.
“He might have an infection. They took a sample off his wound, and they’re starting with an ointment. It’s early and they’re being proactive. She said she didn’t want to sugarcoat it—” Emotion choked my words.
Jeanine’s face crumpled as she held my eyes, a tiny squeak coming out of her throat. A hot tear dripped down my cheek.
“This is all my fault, J,” I whispered.
She didn’t disagree with me, and that was the worst part. Even if it was true, I just wanted some signal that she wouldn’t hate me forever.
“What are they doing next?” Her voice was graveled.
“They’re putting ointment on it and checking it again after his labs come back.”
Her jaw clenched and she swallowed. Her fist balled and unballed.
“Jeanine, I’m so sorry,” I cried.
She didn’t offer to hug me. “I’m mad at myself,” she muttered.
“Why would you be mad at yourself?”
“None of this is nice,” she said, looking at the narrow space between our feet.
“That’s okay. I deserve it.”
She raised her eyes to mine, striking a tear from her cheek. Her words came out in bursts, shaky breaths escaping through her nose between phrases. “I’m mad that I knew what you did was stupid and I didn’t stop you. I decided to stop being your mom, and that was the moment when you really could have used it. If I hadn’t let my guard down, we wouldn’t be here right now. Greyson would have enjoyed his first day of winter break this morning instead of into post-op.” Her whole body shook. “You don’t want me to treat you like the kids? Act like their parent.”
She wiped her tears on her shirt sleeve, stood in front of the door to Greyson’s room, drew a deep breath, straightened her smile, and went in.
Everything she said was true. I had to change.
A couple hoursand a few cartoons later, a social worker knocked on the door. A Black woman with waist-length braids and stylish glasses, she immediately put Grey at ease. “Hey Greyson, I’m Jasmine. I heard you’re into Spiderman. Which one’s your favorite movie?”
“Across the Spider-Verse,” Grey answered quickly.
“That’s my favorite one too! I know you can probably walk, but just in case, let’s put you in this chair and we’ll go down to the playroom.”
Alice and Bella got a kick out of helping wheel Greyson to the room, which had a vestibule where we could still see them but talk privately with the social worker, decorated with festive window clings. Jeanine sat in the single chair probably meant for the social worker and not on the couch next to me.
The social worker didn’t miss a beat, sweeping her braids over one shoulder, straightening her glasses, and handing us each her card. “Like I said, I’m Jasmine and I’m a social worker for the hospital. I’m here for anything you might need to get through Greyson’s surgery and recovery. I understand he’s here because of a tubing accident.”
“Yes,” Jeanine bit out while I nodded.
“A lot of accidents are just one-off, but do you have any concerns for Greyson’s safety at home?”
Jeanine’s eyes were cast to the floor as we both said, “No.”
Jasmine nodded, jotting a note on her clipboard before putting it aside, folding her hands in her lap, and giving us her full attention.
