The discharge nurse walked me through the rest of the forms I needed to fill out.
An orderly pushed my mom’s wheelchair. Her foot rested on the foot rest in a brace. Arrows and signs pointed toward the pharmacy.
“I can get her pain meds and meet you out front.” The man nodded and pushed her in the opposite direction.
One person stood in line at the window. At least this wouldn’t take too long.
My muscles were wound tight, there was a faint throb at the front of my head, and my stomach was clenched like I was preparing for a blow. Never again.
Italy looked even better with each day. I still hadn’t talked to LJ about it. Like an escape pod I’d tucked away in case things went bad, but also because I couldn’t give it up just yet. I’d dreamt about wandering the city and the country since I was little, like a princess locked in a tower, only mine had been built of glass bottles. One summer hadn’t been enough to scratch the surface, but leaving…what happened if I left?
The last time LJ had told me he loved me, it had scared me. Those were the kind of words you couldn’t walk away from. They were the kind that meant promises, and I’d been let down and left behind so many times before it made it hard to believe they could be true.
And that they would remain true. What the hell did forever even mean? I could barely think past graduation.
“Marisa?” A familiar voice broke through my insecurity spiral.
“Jill.” Like a ray of sunshine breaking through clouds hanging over me, she walked up and hugged me.
“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Her smile was warm, but eyes creased with concern.
“It’s my mom.” Who I don’t want anywhere near you. The meetings between LJ’s family and my mom had always been cringe city with me finding any way possible to make a quick exit for us both. “She hurt her leg.”
Charlie walked up behind Jill. “Hey, Marisa.” His hug was strong and comfortable, fatherly. The closest to one I’d ever had. The closest to one I’d ever have. Letting him go, a jab of sadness knocked into my stomach.
Jill’s eyes widened, looking past me. “Terri, what happened?”
I turned, and sure enough, the orderly was pushing my mom toward us. No. No. No. I needed to go.
Misery was written all over the orderly’s face. Who knows what she’d done to badger him into finding out what was taking me so long after the five whole minutes she’d had to wait while I filled her prescription.
My muscles, which had thawed a few degrees, were right back to ice solid.
“Tripped while rescuing orphans from a burning building.” My mom’s sarcastic tone dripped with an attitude she always had around anyone she assessed to be even remotely nicer, happier, friendlier than her, so everyone.
Jill let out a startled laugh. This time I did see a different smile from her. It was thin and reedy, polite and appropriate, but nothing like the one she’d given me. “Sorry to hear about your leg.”
My mom opened her mouth, but I cut her off, not wanting her to set her sights on landing a dig in no matter what.
“Is everything okay?” I looked between them. The anxiety knot in my chest doubled turning into dread.
Jill tugged at her earlobe. “We’re here for another round of tests after Charlie’s six-month check-up. There were some issues with the last one. Some were inconclusive, so they wanted to do a few more to double check.” Uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
My vision tunneled. “More tests?”
The last time had been so hard on Charlie and Jill. They’d both been so strong, trying to keep their family’s heads above water while dealing with so much. He’d been so frail and pale, pain etched in every gaunt line while he tried to keep a brave face. The dread pit deepened, sending sharp spurs into my stomach.
“Does LJ know?” All moisture was sucked out of my mouth.
He’d freak out. The first time his dad was sick, he’d found me on the bleachers between third and fourth period in tenth grade, laid his head in my lap and broke down. The tears didn’t stop for a long time, but I’d been there for him. I braced myself for needing to be the strong one again.
“I let him know yesterday. With him flying to Chicago, I didn’t want to, but he’d made me promise to always let him know when we were going in for a visit.”
My head was woozy and light-headed. His quiet detachment before getting on the plane. I’d chalked it up to nerves about performing in front of every pro scout in the country up against all the top players from every other team. But now…
“I hope everything will be okay.”
Her gaze brightened and she straightened her shoulders. “I’m sure it will. Don’t worry about it. I’ll leave you two, so you can get your mom home.”
His distance. The worry, but he hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t told me. Why wouldn’t he have said something? I’d always been there for him before, and he’d kept it to himself. The spiral sped faster. The rails were coming off.
“Let me know if you need anything, Jill.”
She patted my shoulder and nodded.
All those plans he’d made had probably entailed the Marisa Magic lasting. If something happened to Charlie, would he even want me around? Would I be cast out? How would he even be able to look at me again? I mustered up a numb-lipped smile and cleared my throat.
The fact that I was even feeling sorry for myself shifted my worries to disgust with myself.
I wanted to stay. I wanted to be there with them and make them laugh and joke while they waited. I wanted to not have to spend another minute with my mother.
I walked alongside my mom while the orderly pushed her to the curb.
“Wow, you’re really getting in there deep, aren’t you? Offering up help without a grumble or someone even needing to ask. How many times did they have to call to get you to come?”
My jaw ached. “Stop it.”
“What?” She feigned innocence, complete with big wide eyes and fingertips splayed on her chest.
I left her at the front of the hospital and went to the short-term parking lot to pick up LJ’s car. Part of me wanted to keep going straight onto the highway, instead of pulling around to the front of the hospital.
At the entrance, there were moms cradling new babies, people on crutches, and my mom sitting in a wheelchair in her cast, radiating bitter drunkenness.
Waiting to pull into an empty spot, I tapped out a message to LJ.
Me: Good luck today. Thinking about you. I’ll be watching at 3!
The text bubble popped up, indicating he was typing, and just as quickly disappeared.
My throat tightened, legs wobbled and my heart squeezed like someone had gripped it tight, twisting to test the integrity. Failure was imminent.
After helping her into the car, I stopped off at the grocery store and bought her enough lunch meat and bread to last a week. It took longer than I’d hoped, and the countdown to three got even closer. I’d planned on watching it at home alone where no one else would be bothered by my shouting. I definitely hadn’t planned to watch with my mom.
Every mile on the road in LJ’s car, my head was a maelstrom of anxiety. I compulsively checked my phone at every red light, but the phantom buzz came up empty every time.
Walking into my mom’s house—I couldn’t call it mine anymore—felt as weird as it had when I’d stopped by on Christmas Eve. It looked and smelled the same, but it wasn’t home. I had no home.