“As long as you need me.”
She opens her mouth to speak, the exact words failing her. For several seconds, she flounders like that, putting into images every thought I’m feeling at the moment. Her struggle with speechlessness ends with the arrival of the doctor.
“Still here, Miss McKenzie?” he asks. “I thought I told you to go home and get some rest?”
“I don’t want her to wake up alone.”
The doctor looks down at his chart. “No chance of that. We’re going to keep her asleep for at least another day to give her body time to heal. We can give you a call in the morning before we wake her.”
“That’s fine.” Aly nods weakly, still stunned and trying to get her bearings about her. “Anything else I should know?”
“Someone should probably stay with her for the next couple of weeks. Is there another family member who could stay with her while you’re at school or work?”
“No. There’s just been the two of us for a while.” Aly stares down at the floor tiles. She’s already adding up the costs in her head. The lost wages, the money spent on these recent hospital bills, and what it’s going to cost her to miss any time from school.
I want to help her. I’m more than capable of doing so. At least for now, until my father finds out I blew off a date with Chloe to be here. Aly would never accept a handout, especially for something like this. Not from me.
“Well, I can put together some resources for you, and we’ll keep her here for a couple of days,” the doctor says. “But you should really start thinking long-term.”
Long-term. God, that sounds expensive, too!I can’t just sit by and watch her get pummelled with expenses like this.
“You want me to take you home?” I ask.
“No. I mean, yes,” she stammers. “Just, not home-home.”
“You can come home with me.”
She’s trembling. I resist the urge to pull her into my arms. “Yeah, I’ll just get my stuff. Would you give me a few minutes alone with my mother, please?”
“Of course.” I make my way out into the reception area. Three women monitor the counter. I check once over my shoulder to ensure Aly is nowhere in earshot. I shouldn’t be doing this behind her back. But she has to see reason. We can’t take care of everything on our own.
Even I’m slowly learning that lesson.
“What can I help you with?” one of the receptionists asks.
If Aly never talks to me over this, it will still be worth it to know she’ll have some relief.
“Can you put me in touch with your billing department? I’d like to make an anonymous donation.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Aly
The first time my mother did something like this was three years after my father’s death.
It hit me hard, came out of nowhere. I knew she’d been sad for a long time. How could she not? She had just lost her soulmate, and things were never the same again after that.
After that, we lived in constant fear of losing the house. In constant fear of the phone ringing because we were trying to avoid debt collectors. I finally arranged something with them after the first year, once I’d started working. That eased some of the stress.
Until it didn’t.
I had spent so much time with my head down, just trying to get from one paycheck to the next, keeping my grades up, applying for scholarships, keeping the house in order. Mom had checked out. She went to work. She came home. Sometimes she would stare at the old magnolia tree my father planted when they moved in. Just sit there for hours, as though she could imagine him still standing there beside it.
When you lose someone you love, it isn’t the anniversaries or birthdays that hurt the most. Not like you’d think. Even the holidays are so full of chaos and family and friends, you aren’t left alone for too long with your thoughts.
It’s those tiny triggers instead that make you crumble. You draw out his features in another person’s face. Maybe a conversation sparks a half-forgotten, inane memory you suddenly treasure. Someone’s voice, their cologne is the same as his.
That’s how it happened.