“I came to visit her, and she wasn’t feeling so well,” Vicky says agitatedly.
“What do you mean, Vic, what’s wrong?” Feels like my air pipes are thinning. “Is she . . . conscious?”
“She complained about arm and chest pain in her left side,” Vicky’s voice breaks. “And she was pale and broke out in a cold sweat and claimed her vision was blurry . . . Anna,” Vicky urges. “Please, just meet us there, okay?”
“Of course, of course,” I say through a numbing fear. “I’m getting an Uber right away.”
If you asked who drove me here, how long the drive was, or how many times I checked my phone on the way there I couldn’t answer. The drive to the hospital was a blur of panicked thoughts, the ones that are there but you really can’t make sense of, besides the fact that they scare you. It takes me a couple of moments to orient, figure out where I need to go, once I enter the emergency entrance.
“Anna,” I hear my sister’s voice calling as I approach the nurses’ station. I turn around to a blanched version of Vicky. I take her hand in mine. Vicky squeezes my hand in return. “We got here about ten minutes ago, they took her to—” Having a hard time expressing herself she gestures with her hand to the double, closed doors with the little round windows behind us. “They’re checking her now. She was . . . I don’t know. She didn’t look well, Anna.”
“Do we know anything?” I ask, worrying my lips.
Vicky shakes her head. “They’re checking her— I guess they will let us know soon.” And then my usually composed and under control sister breaks. I wrap my arms around her. “I’m no expert but all these symptoms—” her voice slightly shivers, muffled a little by my shoulder. “It sounds like a heart attack. And she wouldn’t let me call an ambulance. I just hope I did the right thing.”
I hug my sister tight, utterly terrified; fighting myself to brush away worst-case scenario looming thoughts. We break apart after a while, standing in silence, each with her own frightening thoughts.
“Anna?” Hearing his voice releases the emotions I managed to trap inside so far, and a rebel, solitary tear escapes my eye. I turn to Liam who’s walking toward us in scrubs and a white coat.
Everything about this version of him deems authority, possession of utter control, and respect. From the cadence of confidence in his gait to the gravity of his attention as he listens to the person walking beside him with his head slightly cocked, to the furrow between his brows above astute blue eyes as he studies me. The only thing that dares to renegade from the sheer control are the hems of his white coat, flapping by his sides, but even they march to the rhythm of his stride. He says something to the person next to him, nods, and stops next to us. “Anna, what’s going on?” he asks, cocking his head, concern emitting from his severe expression.
I wipe my cheek and sniffle. “My mom is in there.” I point to where Vicky indicated a moment ago.
He nods, asking me for her full name and the reason we brought her in. He nods again, sending his hand to my cheek. Lightly holding it, he says, “Wait here, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Not long after he disappears behind the intimidating, hefty, doors.
I’m on my second tea and Vicky is nursing a coffee, both of us on edge. We hardly exchange any words, waiting anxiously for some news. “I’m going to walk around a little,” I say, standing up. “I can’t sit right now.”
Vicky nods in understanding.
I walk over to the large window and look outside, not really taking in the view. I just stare blankly, trying to catch up with the whirlwind of fears in my head.
I think about the last twenty-four hours; it feels like one minute I was standing on the shore looking at a perfect sunset and all of a sudden the tide comes in and my feet are stuck and there’s nothing I can do. I need someone to lean on because I can’t take much more. I stand there confused, gnawing my shivering lips just before being wrapped in a warm, sturdy embrace.
I don’t need to look back to know who’s holding me. I melt into him. He presses his mouth to the center of my hair and keeps it there. Silently giving me the strength I need not to fall apart. For some long, comforting moments Liam just holds me. “She’ll be okay,” he whispers next to my ear. I swallow a cry of relief. Still holding me, supporting me, Liam says in a leveled tone, “We ran some tests, EKG, chest X-ray, blood work. Medically, she’s fine.” He then adds, “She had a panic attack. We gave her something to help her relax.”
I turn around to look at him, a little relieved yet very confused. “Panic attack?”
He nods. “So it seems.” His brows pull in. “Has she experience anything like that before?”
I shake my head. “Not that I’m aware of.” Suddenly I remember that Vicky is here, and we need to let her know that mom is okay. “My sister,” I say.
“I saw her on the way and updated her,” Liam assures me.
“What do we do now? Can I see her –my mom?”
“She needs to talk to someone, her GP, a therapist. Obviously, find out the root cause of her distress.” His stare doesn’t leave mine, as though making sure I’m alright. “You can see her. I think your sister is with her now.”
“Thanks,” I say, not entirely sure what else to say, given how things were left between us the last time we were together.
“Room 205,” he says next. “I’ll be here all night. If you need anything ask the nurses to page me.” He then hugs me again, a hug that brings tightness in my throat.
When we break apart, I take a deep breath and walk away.
If possible, Vicky looks even tenser when I enter the room. My mom, on the other hand, looks sedated, her eyes land on me somewhat out of focus. Her lips soften into a woozy smile.
I lean down to where she lies on the bed and kiss her on the forehead. “You gave us a good scare tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Bean.” She sounds exhausted.
I shake my head and rest my hand on hers. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better, sweetheart,” she says a little slurred.
I sneak a peek at Vicky, finding her deep in thought, nothing but unsettled. She catches my eyes and frowns. Unspoken, Vicky tells me that we need to talk.
“Mom,” I chance a smile. “What happened tonight? What made you so stressed?”
Mom darts a warning glance at Vicky and turns to me, her tender smile intact. “Nothing you should worry about, I’m okay now.” She pats my hand and her eyes flutter. She yawns and it’s clear she’s struggling to stay awake.
I lean in again to press another kiss to her forehead. “Try to get some rest.” Not long after, she gives in and shuts her eyes.
As soon as mom falls asleep, Vicky tips her head at the door, signaling me to follow.
Behind the closed door, I ask, “What is it?” She obviously knows something.
Vicky closes her eyes and rubs her forefinger between her brows. She inhales deeply, slightly shaking her head. “From what I understand she made some bad investments and lost quite a lot of her savings and then some.” Leaning on the wall, she trains her eyes on me. “She had to take a second mortgage on the apartment. There are some debts that should be cleared . . . immediately.” Cursing under her breath, Vicky adds, “Terrible timing. Terrible! I just paid for my own place; I don’t have any extras to help with this.”