Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (78 page)

Because
Mom was back on the phone when we got back to the waiting room, Tegan asked
Travis, “Have you heard anything yet?”

He
shook his head, grimly, and Tegan and I went to sit. Luke was stretched out
across the room, near Mom, on the other couch in the waiting room while Skylar
was still seated in the same seat as before, listening to her iPod and thumbing
through a magazine. Her eyes weren’t moving across the pages, though; I
suspected her thoughts were elsewhere.

I
sunk into my seat and took a sip of Pibb Xtra. Tegan gave my arm a reassuring
squeeze. We sat quietly for a few minutes before she gave my arm another
squeeze and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

I
nodded and watched her leave, assuming she sought out the restroom.

I
tapped my feet nervously for a few seconds, but I couldn’t stand sitting there
alone. I moved over and took the seat next to Skylar.

She
looked over at me and pulled the buds from her ears. “You okay?”

I
shrugged. “You?”

“I
just don’t like waiting,” she answered on a sigh.

I
nodded my agreement.

“Where
did Tegan go?”

I
shrugged. “Bathroom, I think.”

She
nodded, and we sat quietly for a few minutes before she said, “I called Stevie.”

“Is
she coming here?”

“Yeah,
she should be here soon.”

  Good,
I thought. As much as we loved each other, sometimes a different kind of
support was necessary. I imagined Skylar felt she could only speak openly with
Stevie the same way I talked to Tegan.

“How
do you think Luke’s doing?” I wondered. As far as I knew, he hadn’t called
anyone.

Skylar
glanced over her shoulder toward Luke. “I think he’s okay,” she said after a
moment’s consideration. “His answer in the face of a crisis seems to be to
sleep through it.”

“I
wish I could sleep at a time like this,” I sighed.

“No
kidding,” Skylar scoffed.

When
Tegan showed up several minutes later, I asked, “What took you so long?”

“Couldn’t
find the bathroom,” she shrugged, sinking into the seat next to me.

We
sat quietly, listening to Mom talk on the phone. She’d long since called all of
the family, but the phone had rung a few times. I presumed it was family
calling back to check in for news. If it weren’t keeping Mom composed, I’d have
been annoyed on her behalf.

My
eyes drooped a few times; I was running on only a couple of hours of sleep, but
I always jolted awake. I wondered how Mom and Skylar were still going. It was
after three in the morning the last I checked the time. As far as I knew, Skylar
hadn’t made it to bed before Mom called, and I knew Mom had been awake since
early the previous morning.

Because
it was so late, there wasn’t much activity in our area of the hospital, so when
I heard footsteps echoing down the hallway, my first thought—hope or fear, I
couldn’t be sure—was that it was the doctor finally coming to us with news.
Skylar looked up as well, probably expecting Stevie, so I was sure I wasn’t the
only one surprised to see Jackson step into the waiting room.

His
hair was an even bigger mess than usual, sticking up every which way, and his
clothes were wrinkled, but his eyes were alert and worried. He only glanced
around the room once before he strode over to me.

I
stood, dumbstruck. Jackson was the last person I’d expected to see walk into
the room. He cupped my face in his hands when he reached me and whispered, “Are
you okay?”

I
nodded. “How did you . . .”

“Know
to come?” he finished for me. I nodded. “Tegan called.” That nugget of
information came as a shock, but I realized that must have been where she’d
gone instead of the restroom. Jackson pulled me from my thoughts. “Have you
heard anything from the doctors?”

Frowning,
I shook my head.

“They’re
probably still operating,” Jackson reasoned as he pulled me into his arms. I
was so glad to see him. I felt so safe and warm in his arms. I was so grateful
to Tegan for calling him.

He
released me from his embrace, but he kept me close, squeezing my shoulder
reassuringly.

“Hey,
Tegan,” he greeted. She returned his nod, and then he looked to my sister. “How
are you doing, Skylar?”

She
shrugged.

He
squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Hang in here,” he said.

He
sounded so calm; it reminded me of Tegan. I felt so blessed to have such
goodhearted people in my life.  

Stevie
showed up only a few minutes later just before Dad’s parents arrived. I
realized Mom must have called them almost immediately, or they’d just really
made good time. With so many people arriving, Jim and Sherry decided to leave.
Travis stayed for a while longer before finally deciding to head home as well.
Jackson offered Tegan a ride home since she didn’t want to leave me.

Grandma
and Grandpa Granger were even more stoic than usual, which I guessed meant they
were incredibly upset. It was ridiculously quiet for a room full of people, but
it seemed no one knew what to say or do.

Mom’s
anxiety seemed to resurface when she had nothing else to busy her. She
alternately sat and paced, occasionally wondering aloud what was taking so
long. I empathized with her, understanding just how difficult it was to sit and
do nothing.

I
rested my head on Jackson’s shoulder and closed my eyes, though I didn’t fall
asleep. Even though Jackson and Tegan both assured me they’d wake me if the
doctor came, I couldn’t help but feel I needed to stay awake. Both Jackson and
Tegan seemed so convinced everything would be okay. I wished I shared in their
sense of certainty.

Skylar
had only just drifted to sleep with her head on Stevie’s shoulder when the
doctor finally entered the room. Mom stopped pacing, and I stood immediately.
Stevie shook Skylar awake, and she was up and alert in a second. Jackson went
to Luke and shook him to consciousness. It seemed he hadn’t been sleeping quite
as contentedly as it appeared because he was up in a flash and joined the rest
of the family to hear what the doctor had to say.

“How
is my husband?” Mom asked directly.

“He’s
fine, Mrs. Granger,” Dr. Davenport replied. “The surgery took longer than we
anticipated, but things went relatively smooth.”

Mom
sighed; her relief visible. Grandpa Granger patted her on the back and said, “I
knew Theo would be all right. He’s a Granger. He’s too damn stubborn to die.”

The
doctor smiled. “He’s in recovery right now.  A nurse will come to get you once
he’s settled.”

“Thank
you,” Mom said with sweet sincerity as she teared up once again. She shook his
hand before he turned and left the room.

Mom
motioned Luke, Skylar and I closer. As she had when we first arrived, she
pulled the three of us close in a tight embrace. “Everything is going to be
okay,” she whispered.

For the
first time all night, I actually believed those words.

When I
was finally allowed to see Dad, conscious, after his surgery, it felt like the
first time I was able to breathe in fresh oxygen in days. I’d spent hours,
waiting and worrying, and hoping for the best while trying to wrap my head
around the possibility that Dad could die. Hearing the doctor say he’d come out
of surgery was entirely different from seeing it myself. It was one of the few
things that, despite the various machines he was hooked to and his pale skin,
that actually helped ease my mind. He was alive; that was good enough for me.

Despite
the relief I felt, everything was far from calm. Tegan and Jackson left right
before I went to see Dad for the first time. They were hesitant to go, but I
assured them I’d be okay. They’d stayed with me through the worst of it, which
helped immensely. As much as I would have liked the keep them at my side at all
times, I knew they had lives of their own; besides, they’d given me the
strength—just in knowing they’d be there if I needed either of them—to continue
on without them.

After
Skylar, Luke and I visited with Dad for a little while—he was very tired and a
bit out of it—Mom insisted we go home to get a few hours of a sleep before
freshening up and coming back.

“Mom,
you should come too,” Skylar tried.

“Oh,
no.” Mom shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“You
haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours,” Skylar argued. “You’re running on
fumes.”

“She’s
right, Leela,” Grandma Granger agreed, but Mom refused to leave Dad’s side. In
the end, we wound up bringing her some clean clothes and food when we went back
to the hospital.

Mom
dozed on the uncomfortable recliner by Dad’s bed, off and on, but she seemed to
sleep more deeply when Dad did. He was in and out of wakefulness, and this was
the pattern for most of the weekend.

By
Sunday afternoon, though, they had Dad out of bed, trying to get him to walk
around. It was almost too difficult to watch him struggle to stand on his own
two feet. I was so accustom to seeing Dad as nothing but strong, sturdy and
stubborn. Mom had relayed that the doctors said it would be an uphill battle at
first, but she’d assured us that Dad would be okay. Even he, in his more lucid
moments, murmured encouragements not to worry.

“You
can’t get rid of me that easily,” he’d teased on Saturday evening while Mom and
I were the only ones in the room.

Instead
of the laughter Dad was going for, I’d almost burst into tears. Mom had held me
tight to her side, shushing me while Dad said, “Oh, come on, I’m only joking.”

“I
don’t think now is the time, Theo,” Mom scolded him.

“Cecilia,”
Dad croaked. He patted the hospital bed. “Come up here.”

“I’m
not supposed to,” I argued.

He
waved his right hand as best he could with an IV attached. “You can blame me if
the nurses say anything.”

Sighing,
I moved from Mom’s embrace to sit on the side of the bed. Dad lifted a hand,
pushing my hair away from my eyes and cupping my face. He waited until I lifted
my eyes to meet his. “Silly, I know you’re worried, but I’m okay.” He spoke
unusually softly, in a soothing tone I hadn’t heard in years. It took me back
to my childhood, when he kissed away the bumps and bruises and tucked me
tightly into bed. “We’ll get through this,” he assured me. “You hear?”

I
nodded, sniffling back the tears the memories had dislodged. “Yeah, I hear.”

On
Monday, none of us wanted to go to school, but, much to our chagrin, the
grandparents Granger were staying with us and insisted we go.

“There
isn’t any use in all of us just sitting around a hospital getting in everyone’s
way,” Grandma Granger said.

In
truth, she wasn’t the most sensitive person in the world. She’d also been more
of a hindrance over the weekend than any sort of help, so I was relieved when
Grandpa Granger commented, “Unless something changes at the hospital this
morning and Theo won’t be released from the hospital tomorrow, we’ll be heading
back home this afternoon.”

That
was easily the best news I’d heard since Dad came through surgery without any
complications.

School
was a complete blur, but I was aware enough to notice that the teachers were
all unusually nice. I wasn’t sure how they knew what happened, but I was
grateful that I didn’t get yelled at or have to explain why I kept zoning out
in class. Even Miss Barkley, who was usually so stern and stoic, looked
sympathetic. I hoped—with only a few weeks left of school—that the teachers
wouldn’t choose to cover anything too important over the next few days. On top
of the worry was exhaustion. Despite going home to sleep in between visits with
Dad, I hadn’t rested well.

I
rode to the hospital with Skylar after school, and Luke showed up shortly
after. According to Mom, the plan was still for Dad to be released the
following day. Because it was obvious Dad was tried—probably from a long day of
therapy—and because we’d see him the next afternoon, we didn’t stay at the
hospital long.

We
tried to coax Mom into coming home with us for dinner and a nap; she was still
glued to Dad’s side. I wasn’t sure if it because she didn’t want to leave him
alone or because it hadn’t yet settled in that he really did appear to be doing
okay. She started to refuse, but it was Dad who spoke up.

“Lee,”
he said tiredly, “you need a break.”

“But—”

“You’re
exhausted,” Dad went on. “You haven’t had a whole night’s sleep since I’ve been
here. That’s not good for you or the baby.”

Pulling
the baby card wasn’t something the rest of us had tried thus far. It didn’t
seem to work, though, because Mom argued, “I can just rest here.”

Dad
sighed, clearly exasperated with Mom’s stubbornness; maybe they were more alike
than I thought. “Honey,” he said, “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but
you’re getting pretty ripe.”

Mom
blushed scarlet, and her eyes slid over my siblings and myself. I could tell
she was mortified, probably trying to remember how many people she’d
encountered through the day while smelling less than fresh. It wasn’t entirely
true; nor was it a lie either. The truth was somewhere in the middle. While Mom
didn’t necessarily smell, she had the haggard look of a person who’d been
living on the streets and washing in gas station bathrooms to stay clean.

“Fine,”
Mom finally conceded. “I’ll go home for a while, but I will be back later
tonight.”

Dad
didn’t even bother to try to convince her it wasn’t necessary. He—I
guessed—probably knew it was a waste of breath.

As
Dad started to drift to sleep, Mom dug some money from her purse, instructing
Skylar to stop by and pick up something for dinner on the way home. “I’m going
to check in with the nurses, and then I’ll head home myself.”

“If
you’re not home in an hour, I’ll come back and pick you up myself,” Luke
threatened.