“Not that we know of,” David sighed, taking the coffee Joanna had brought him. “Mom and Dad are still with the doctors.”
“I just don’t understand,” Rachel gulped as she lifted her head off of Wally’s chest. “It’s like just yesterday, he was walking and talking and laughing and acting as if he weren’t even sick, and now he’s unresponsive and more doctors are being called in. Everything is just happening too fast.” Rachel put her arms around Emily, lovingly stroking her hair as Emily, sleepy-eyed and sobbing, fought sleep, waiting for word that Grant’s condition had improved.
“He has good doctors; we have to believe they’re going to figure out what’s going on,” David said, adjusting Leah in his arms and taking a sip of his coffee.
The sound of footsteps approaching made everyone look up eagerly, but it was only Melissa returning from the parking lot with Leah’s blanket in hand. She tucked the pink blanket around her sleeping daughter and kissed her husband’s cheek. “No word from your parents?”
“Not yet,” David answered softly.
Granny Miller groaned as she woke from sleep. “Nora Jean?” she asked.
Melissa sat down next to Granny, taking her hand. “She’s still with Grant’s doctors, Granny.”
Granny reached for her back. “I declare, these chairs they’ve got out here don’t make the waitin’ any easier, do they?”
Melissa smiled understandingly. “Granny, why don’t you let David run you home? You need to stretch out in your own bed. We can call you as soon as they let us know anything.”
“Yeah, Granny,” Joanna agreed. “You’re already going to be as stiff as a board from sitting in here so long.”
“I’m not as young as I used to be,” Granny argued, “but I will be right here until I know that Nora Jean and my grandson are okay.”
Hailey stood, and, stepping over Jessica, she began to pace, the sleeves of Grant’s hoodie pulled over her hands as she walked back and forth, her thoughts a million miles away. How long had it been since she had slept? Maybe twenty-four hours, maybe closer to forty-eight…she wasn’t sure, nor did she know how long she would continue walking the same path back and forth; she only knew that it was a way to deny her body the sleep it craved.
Hailey’s mind was void of thought, either good or bad, when she felt Nora’s arms around her, jarring her instantly back into reality where she was totally aware of the answers she was waiting for. “He’s awake,” she heard Nora cry. “He’s awake… and he’s asking for you.”
Misty arrived in the hospital’s ICU waiting room carrying a small, plastic, Wal-Mart bag of clothes, only to find Hailey asleep in the middle of the waiting room floor. There were others sleeping on either side of her, pillows and blankets everywhere, evidence this room had been made into a personal campsite over the past couple days.
Jessica and Emily were sitting in two chairs next to the wall, and they smiled easily at Misty. They had just returned from Hope Hull that morning, after much needed showers, changes of clothes and a good night’s sleep in their own beds.
“I brought some snacks and a change of clothes for Hailey,” Misty whispered as she sat next to the girls. “I know she won’t leave the hospital, but I figured she would feel better if she at least changed her clothes and washed her face.”
“We brought a backpack of her things from home,” Jessica gestured toward the chair next to her, “but she won’t take off Grant’s sweatshirt.”
Hailey woke, as if on cue. “Misty?” she asked, rubbing her red, bloodshot eyes as she rose.
“Hi,” Misty smiled, standing to hug her friend.
Instinctively, Hailey’s eyes searched for the clock, making sure she had not slept past ICU visiting hours.
“You have another hour before you can go back and see him,” Emily assured her.
“Dad went across the street to McDonald’s to get everyone coffee and breakfast,” Jessica told her.
There was coffee in the waiting room and a vending machine with Texas cinnamon rolls, honey buns and cookies, but everyone, it seemed, liked an excuse to get outside for a moment.
“They think they’ll get to move him out of ICU today,” Hailey’s eyes sparkled as she relayed the good news to her friend.
“You told me on the phone,” Misty nodded. “I’m here on Grant’s behalf. If he’s well enough to be moved from Intensive Care, then he’s alert enough to realize that you, my sweet friend, look like a hot mess.”
“Thanks, Misty,” Hailey rolled her eyes.
“It’s true,” Jessica agreed as Hailey tried to smooth her hair away from her face. She reached into the seat next to her, picked up Hailey’s backpack and thrust it toward her sister.
“Come-on,” Misty smiled, taking her friend’s arm. “I saw a bathroom right across the hall. Let’s go brush your hair and make you presentable for our boy.”
“Grant told me I looked beautiful,” Hailey said as she reluctantly followed Misty.
“Well, those are some good drugs,” Misty said, determined to keep the mood light.
Hailey smiled as she pulled the bathroom door open.
She stood at the bathroom counter, brushing her teeth, watching Misty in the mirror as she dug through a bag and removed a bath cloth and a blue tube of Noxzema.
Misty placed the bag’s contents on the counter and gently removed the ponytail holder that still held a small portion of Hailey’s hair back. “How’s he doing?” she finally asked.
Hailey finished brushing her teeth and rinsing her mouth before she answered.
There was a straight back chair against the wall, and, pulling it in front of the mirror, Misty gestured for Hailey to sit.
As Hailey spoke, Misty managed her hair with tender attentiveness.
“He’s just lying there,” Hailey shrugged. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to have complications this soon. Maybe if we had just caught this sooner. He was supposed to start chemotherapy and, once his blood counts were stabilized, continue to get chemo as an outpatient procedure. We were supposed to go home. I was supposed to be able to help him through this every step of the way.” She shook her head, making it difficult for Misty to continue working on the ponytail she had started. “He’s hooked up to so many machines; there are so many needles…and the smell of the drugs make me sick to my stomach.”
Misty finished fixing Hailey’s hair. “Wash your face,” She gulped. “I’ll get you out some fresh clothes.” Misty began digging around for the bottle of perfume she had brought. “Clinique,” she said proudly, as she pointed the bottle at Hailey, “a Christmas gift from Paul.”
“Don’t,” Hailey shook her head, as she gently pushed the bottle away. “I can’t wear perfume. It makes Grant sick.”
