"It,” I say, grabbing it in my hand. “It was my grandmother’s." My voice trembles as I look down at the locket I got when I was seven. "She wore it every single day. The day of her accident." I close it in my fist. “She forgot to put it on." I wipe away the tear running down my face. “Thank you,” I say, and he nods at me and puts the bag down on the bed.
"I need some help," Mayson says, looking at Quinn. “Can you come and help me?"
He looks at him and then looks at Chelsea. They share a look, and he nods. "I’ll be right back." Quinn looks at me, and I nod at him.
My finger taps the bed beside me. “Willow," Chelsea says. “I don’t know what happened to you."
"I told Mayson," I start to say, and she shakes her head.
“The only thing I know is that you got hurt because of me,” she says and puts her hand in front of her mouth. She laughs and cries at the same time. “I said I was going to be strong for you.” I look at her. “We are in debt to you.”
“You don’t have to,” I say, not sure I can take what she has to say.
“You have to let us be there for you,” she says. “Just give us a chance.”
“What is in this?” Quinn says, saving me from having to say anything to her. I look over at him and see him carrying a big green bag.
“Well, that,” Chelsea says. “Quinn’s mom and I thought you might need a couple of things for when you get out of here."
I sit up as I look at the big green army bag. “We had to borrow Ethan’s bag."
"I can’t take that." I look at the bag that looks like it weighs a hundred pounds.
Chelsea puts her head back and laughs. “There are three more bags at Quinn’s house."
I sit with my mouth open as I look at her and then back at Quinn. “My family can be a touch …"
"They are the best," Mayson says, looking at me. “It can be overwhelming in the beginning, but if you just let the love in, it’s going to be everything."
I can’t say anything to either of them. “We should get going so you can get some rest," Chelsea says. “But if it’s okay." She looks down nervously. “I can come back some time with my cousin Amelia."
"Um …" I look at Quinn, who just smiles. “I guess so."
Chelsea claps her hands together. “She’s going to be so happy,” she says, and my head just turns around and around.
Chelsea walks up to Quinn and gives him a hug, and Mayson shakes his hand. I watch them walk out of the room, holding hands, and then turn to look at him. “You have to take that bag." I point at the green bag. “And you have to tell them to take it back."
He puts his head back and laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh so freely. "No chance."
"You have to." I shake my head.
"With the women in my family, you have to learn when to pick your battles." He looks at me, walking over to the pie and cutting a piece. “And this is a battle that one, I know I’m going to lose, and two"—he shrugs his shoulders—“I don’t want to." He walks over to me, and I see his eyes crystal tonight as he smiles and hands me the plate. “Hopefully, you will be able to eat a bit more by tomorrow."
I look down at the pie in my hand. “Where is Shirley?" I ask him, and he looks back at me as he walks over to grab another piece of pie for himself.
"She clocked out two hours ago. Doris is here.” He turns to look at me from head to toe. “Do you need anything? Are you in pain? Is it your head?"
"No, I’m fine. I was just wondering if I could have some juice,” I say, then I look down. “It’s fine. I’m good with water."
"I’ll be right back," he says, walking out of the room, and I want to kick myself for even asking. I take a bite of the pie, and as soon as it hits my tongue, I close my eyes.
"This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my whole life,” I say to myself, taking another bite, and then I look up when I hear footsteps coming closer and closer to my door.
Quinn walks into the room, and his hands are full. He walks over and dumps the juice on the bed. He picks them up and shows them to me. “Apple, orange, pineapple, grape, cranberry, strawberry kiwi.” He holds that one up. “I don’t think this is real juice, but who knows.”
“Oh my God.” I look down at them, trying not to let him see that I’m crying. How would I explain that I’m crying because this is the nicest thing someone has ever done for me?
"I also got grapefruit juice.” He picks up the last one. “But I don’t know if you can drink it. I have to ask Doris." He looks down at the bottle in his hand, and then he looks up at me. “Which one did you want?”
“You bought me all the juices, didn’t you?” I ask him, surprised but somehow not. How do I tell him that every single time I turn around, he is blowing my mind with his kindness? How do I tell him that if it wasn’t for him, I would still have some fear in me? How do I tell him that when I close my eyes, he is the one who helps fight off the demons?
"I didn’t know which one was your favorite, and I was assuming you wouldn’t tell me, so this"—he smirks—“was my last resort."
"Apple," I tell him, looking down at the bottle. For the first time in my whole life, I admit, “Apple is my favorite." He opens the apple juice, and he pours a bit in a cup and then holds the cup up for me. I take a sip as the sweetness hits my tongue right away.
"Little sips,” he says when we hear a knock on the door.
I look up to see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Her blond hair is hanging down, and she smiles at Quinn. "I’m sorry. I should have called before just stopping by." She comes in, and I see how well put together she is. My head spins as I wonder who this person is.
"Mom," Quinn says, walking to her and hugging her. I just look at her looking up at him with such love, and my heart speeds up as I watch him smile at her. Then she looks back at me, her whole face filling with a smile. “Willow,” he says my name. "I’d like for you to meet my mom, Olivia."
She comes to me, stopping by the bed, and her eyes fill with tears. “It’s so good to finally see you up,” she says, and I look at her, confused. “I would come by when you were sleeping." She looks at Quinn. “We were all so worried about you,” she says. She reaches out to grab my hand, and it’s warm just like her son’s.
“Um,” I say, not sure what to say. “Thank you.” I’m shocked that someone other than Quinn would be worried about me or my well-being. This is uncharted territory, and I have no idea what to do about it.
"I would have brought you something if I knew you would be awake,” she says and looks back at Quinn. “I feel silly showing up empty-handed."
“You don’t have to bring me anything,” I tell her, hoping she doesn’t feel bad. My hands shake but not from fear this time, it’s from being nervous about making a good first impression. I don’t know why I care. Everyone usually just looks at me like I’m dirt. But for reasons that I won’t admit, I want her to look at me without disgust.