Tulsi nodded. “Yes. Thank you,” she said, gratitude flooding through her chest as he smiled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “And if you could get a couple of Clem’s stuffed animals from her room, too, that would be great. It won’t be the same as Snuggly Blanket and Monster Princess, but I’m sure she’d appreciate something to cuddle when she wakes up.”
“I’m on it,” Pike said, with a wink, before he turned and started toward the front desk.
She watched him go, silently thanking the universe for the host of miracles that she’d witnessed tonight, before she reached for her cell.
“Let me step outside and call your mom,” Mia said, touching her hand to Tulsi’s arm. “I’ve got her number. You stay here so you can go back the second Clem’s ready for visitors.”
“Thank you,” Tulsi said. “Thank you for everything. I’m so glad we’re still friends.”
Mia grinned. “Family. And no sense staying mad at family, right? And since I get the feeling you’re going to be my sister for real before too long, it would be even stupider to hold a grudge. Just be good to Pike, and I’ll consider us square for life.”
Tulsi nodded seriously. “I will. I love him so much, Mia.”
“He’s pretty crazy about you, too,” she said, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe I didn’t see it before, but I guess sometimes we only see what we’re expecting to see.” She slipped her cell from her purse as she backed toward the sliding doors. “I’ll call your mom and be right back.”
“Thanks,” Tulsi said, Mia’s words resonating. For years, she’d done the same thing. She’d only seen what she expected to see, refusing to see the options that were right in front of her. From now on, she was determined to look at the big picture and realize that, no matter how bleak things seemed, there was always hope and paths that led out of the darkness.
A few minutes later, Nurse Amy returned and took her back to see Clementine, who looked even smaller than usual lying in a big hospital bed with tubes in her arms and bandages covering most of her chest. Tears sprung immediately to Tulsi’s eyes, but she forced a smile. She refused to cry or do anything to scare Clem more than her daughter had been scared already.
“Hey, bug. I’m so happy to see you!” Tulsi took her daughter’s small hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, wishing she could draw Clem into her arms and rock her all night the way she did when she was a baby.
“Where’s Grandpa?” Clem asked, her forehead wrinkled. “Is he okay?”
“He’s going to be fine,” Tulsi assured her. “He’s already resting and doing great. How about you, baby? How are you feeling?”
“Everything hurts. All over.” Clem’s blue eyes swam with tears. “I don’t like it here, Mommy, I want to go home.”
“I know,” Tulsi said, heart breaking. “But we need to stay until you’re better. The doctors and nurses are doing a great job taking care of you and in a few days you’ll be stronger and we can go home.”
“I don’t like the nurses. They’re mean. They wouldn’t let me see you when I woke up,” Clem said with a pitiful sniff. “I said I wanted my mommy, but they wouldn’t go get you. I was so mad I wanted to push them and run away, but everything hurt too bad.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” Tulsi smoothed Clem’s hair from her forehead. “I know it’s confusing, but they weren’t trying to be mean. They just had to make sure you were okay before they came to get me. Those are the hospital rules. But now I’m here and I’m sticking to you like glue. I’ll sleep right by your bed and be there whenever you wake up.”
“You promise?” Clem said, her eyelids already drooping.
“I promise,” Tulsi said. “A team of wild horses couldn’t drag me away. Mr. Pike is getting my things from the house and he’s bringing your stuffed animals, too. Next time you wake up you’ll have animal friends in your bed, and I’ll be here to get you anything you need. We’ll rest and watch movies and play cards and do whatever we can to keep your mind off the bad stuff until you’re all better.”
Clem blinked sleepily. “Can we play for candy?”
“Of course,” Tulsi said, swallowing hard as she watched Clem’s eyes close. “Of course we can play for candy.”
She managed to hold back her tears until she was certain Clem was asleep, but then they came in a fresh wave, pouring silently down her cheeks. She was just so grateful—so grateful to hear her baby’s voice, to hear her complain about the mean nurses, to know she was still plotting ways to increase her candy stash. Her little girl was going to be okay and they were both going to have a fresh start, with even more love in their lives than they’d had before.
The past six years had taught Tulsi that her capacity for love truly was limitless. On the day Clementine was born, she’d assumed nothing could surpass the love that had flooded her heart the moment Clem looked up at her with those wise and beautiful baby blue eyes. But with every passing year, Tulsi had come to treasure her daughter even more. Loving Clem was a blessing that had taught her that the heart isn’t a fixed entity, it’s a mansion always under construction, with an endless number of rooms and always more space for love and light.
And so when Tulsi woke up in the hospital folding chair the next morning to see her father sitting in a wheelchair by Clem’s bed, watching his granddaughter sleep, she didn’t hesitate. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, padded in her sock feet around the edge of the bed, and wrapped her arms around her daddy’s shoulders.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Daddy,” Tulsi said, kissing his cheek. “I love you so much.”
“We almost lost her,” Dale said, remaining stiff in her embrace. “After the crash, I was trapped on my side of the truck. I sat there watching her cry and bleed and I couldn’t help. And then she closed her eyes and I thought that was it…that she was gone…”
Tulsi hugged him harder and whispered, “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Dad. But we didn’t lose her. And we’re all here and we’re a family. It’s going to be okay.”
“You should never have sent her away to camp,” Dale said in a gruff voice. “She’s just a baby. She should have stayed home with you and me, where she belongs. So we could keep her safe.”
“She was with you when it happened, Dad,” Tulsi said gently as she stood up. “Not at camp.”
“So it’s my fault, is it?” he asked, glaring at Clem’s bedspread, his jaw clenched tight.