“You didn’t deserve it. I know you liked her, and I’m sorry I ruined your relationship.”
“I’m not. She had an agenda. I’m not going to say what you did was okay, because your betrayal cut deep, but in a weird way you actually protected me.”
If I hadn’t been so smashed and so determined to hurt my brother, that bullshit the bitch spewed would have made me seriously mad. At least we won’t have to worry about Hollis coming between us again; her father has sent her to an all-girls reform school in Switzerland. An asshole at school recorded some of the events that night, and the video found its way into her father’s inbox. He shipped her out of the country two days later. Can’t say I’ll miss her. She was nothing more than a tool to hurt my brother. A fresh wave of shame crashes into me and I hate what I did to East.
“Let’s sit you upright a little so I can give you some of these ice chips. The nurse didn’t leave any water, only these.” Mom tenderly cups my face. “I’m so glad you’re okay. We were so worried.”
“I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake,” Dad says, as East presses a button on the side of the bed and it slowly elevates. Dad leans down and kisses my brow. “It’s good to have you back, son.”
His words carry a double meaning, and they linger in the air as he leaves to get the nurse. The gentle whirring as the bed raises is the only sound in the room.
I am sitting propped up in the bed with Mom feeding me ice chips when Dad returns with a nurse. She makes a fuss over me, checking my vitals and promising to send a doctor in to talk to us and some food if he gives me the all-clear. She reappears a couple of minutes later with a large glass jug of water and some plastic cups. Mom holds my hand while she helps me to take small sips as if she is terrified to let me go.
I guess I fell asleep after that because when I blink my eyes open the room is brighter, and little rays of daylight filter through the gaps in the blinds.
“Hey.” Mom’s beautiful face swims in my line of vision as she looms over me. “How are you feeling?”
As soon as the words leave her lips, I’m acutely aware of all the aches and pains ricocheting through my body. “Sore,” I truthfully admit. “Can you help me to sit up?”
“Let me,” Dad says, and I move my head around, watching him enter the room holding two paper cups.
My brother is asleep in a chair alongside my bed, his head thrown back, his lips slightly parted as he softly snores. The sound is like music to my ears. For years, East and I shared a bedroom until we became teens and he started snoring, waking me continuously during the night, and it became apparent I needed to start sleeping in my own room. Occasionally, when we stay up late watching TV or playing video games, I crash in his room. It always reminds me of the closeness we share and how much of a support system he was for me when I first moved in with them and it felt like my entire world ended when Lori died.
Dad hands a cup to Mom before setting the other one down on the bedside table. Then he elevates the bed and fixes the pillows behind my back.
“Where am I?” I ask because I have no recollection after I passed out on the sidewalk outside the bar, having crawled from the alley.
“You’re at Southern California Hospital at Culver City,” Mom explains.
“What do you remember?” Dad takes his cup and sits beside Mom. They pull their chairs in closer to my bed.
“All of it.” I wince a little as I sit up straighter in the bed. “Unfortunately.”
The nurse shows up then to check me over, but I refuse her offer of more pain meds for now. I want to talk to my parents and my brother. I have so many things I need to get off my chest and it can’t wait any longer.
I have put them through hell, and I need to fix it now.
She leaves after promising to send a light breakfast in for me, but food is the last thing on my mind. East is still asleep, but I don’t want to wake him or delay this conversation.
“Do you feel up to talking about it?” Dad asks, sipping his coffee as he watches me with laser-focused eyes. “The cops have been around, but they weren’t able to tell us much other than you were found in front of a dive bar in West Adams, bleeding out and beaten up.”
A strangled sound erupts from Mom’s mouth, and tears glisten in her eyes. I squeeze her hand, only imagining what she must have felt when she heard the news.
Dad circles his arm around Mom and holds her close. I don’t even know if he realizes he has done it. It just comes automatically to him. When I’m older, I hope I find someone to love as much as they love one another. It’s couple goals for sure.
“They will be back to take a statement from you, most likely at some point today,” Dad adds.
“You’re awake,” East says in a hoarse voice, and we all turn to look at him as he rubs sleep from his eyes.
“He just woke a few minutes ago.” Mom stretches across the bed to hand him her undrunk coffee. “You look like you need this more than me.”
“Thanks.” He accepts it without protest, immediately taking a mouthful and forcing himself more upright in the chair.
A woman enters the room with a tray holding two pieces of toast, a glass of juice, and a Styrofoam bowl with some chopped fruit. Mom insists I eat all of it before I begin explaining. They fill me in on my sisters and how worried they were when they got the call from the hospital while I eat.
“I’m really sorry you were worried. I know I’ve been horrible to everyone.” Tears prick my eyes, but I don’t fight them. If I’m going to do this, I’m doing it right. That means no more shielding things from my family.
Dad removes my tray, setting it over by the window ledge before reclaiming his seat by Mom’s side. Mom clings to one of my hands while my brother holds the other.