Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (76 page)

I’d
always felt that friends were more important and should always come before
guys, but now that I was actually in a relationship, I realized it wasn’t so
simple and that priorities had a way of shifting without a person even
realizing it. I couldn’t just discard Jackson or Tegan in favor of the other,
though. I hated that things were changing between Tegan and I, but I didn’t
know what I was supposed to do or how I could make this all better.

“Sil,
I think she knows she’s important to you,” Jackson said. “Sometimes it just
takes time to adjust to changes in relationships, you know?”

I
nodded. He was right, of course, but that didn’t make me feel any less glum. 

“Come
on,” he heaved a sigh. “I’ll take you out for ice cream. We can even rent a
movie if you want. Any movie, your choice.”

“Even
a cheesy chick flick?” I asked, looking up at him, hopefully.

He
grimaced, then sighed a long-suffering sigh, and nodded. “God, help me; yes,
even a cheesy chick flick.”

Jackson
was good company throughout the evening even though I was wallowing in my
sorrow. He stopped by the movie theater to pick up his check, and after
stopping by the bank, we went out for ice cream. The scoop of caramel latte and
dark chocolate in a waffle bowl from Cold Stone Creamery helped to perk me up.
Jackson also let me sample his Cold Stone’s “Chocolate Devotion.”

I
should have been on a sugar high by the time we went to pick up a few movies,
but I was shockingly mellow. I picked
Little Miss Sunshine
and
Poseidon
,
and, because I was feeling generous, I let Jackson pick the last; he chose
X-Men:
The Last Stand
.

Back
at my house, my parents were both home and getting ready to go out for dinner
at the country club.

“They’re
having a live band play tonight,” Mom enthused. “Would the two of you like to
come with us?”

“No,
thanks,” I smiled, trying not to let my melancholy show through. “We’ve got big
plans.” I waved the movies at her.

Mom
nodded, as if she’d expected as much, and she and Dad left shortly after, but
not before Dad locked eyes with Jackson, giving him the typical nonverbal
warning to keep his hands to himself.

Despite
my worries about Tegan, I had a surprisingly pleasant evening parked on the
couch with Jackson. I snuggled up to him during
Little Miss Sunshine
,
and when his stomach started to growl at me, he suggested we order in. We ate a
lovely spread of fried rice, Sweetfire chicken breast, peppercorn shrimp and
cream cheese Rangoon from Panda Express while we watched
X-Men
.

When
Skylar arrived home from work, she ate the food we had leftover and hung out to
watch
Poseidon
with us. In typical Skylar fashion, she kept asking
questions about the movie, as if Jackson and I held all of the answers, so I
was glad when she finally decided to leave us to take a shower.

When
the movie was over, Jackson decided he should probably head home. “I’ll talk to
you tomorrow, okay?” he said, cupping my face.

I
nodded as he leaned in to press his lips to mine.

“Don’t
stress yourself out over Tegan. It’ll all work itself out.” He sounded so sure,
and I wanted very badly to believe him, but, despite my earlier determination,
I didn’t share his same conviction.

Once
Jackson was gone, I went up to my room and fixed my top eight on MySpace before
deciding to call it an early night, foregoing my usual nightly reading. As I
drifted to sleep, I could hear Skylar blow-drying her hair in the bathroom down
the hall.

I
felt as if I’d only just fallen asleep when I found myself being shaken back to
consciousness. Through bleary eyes, I squinted at the clock on my nightstand
and determined, in actuality, a couple of hours had passed.

“Leave
me alone,” I muttered to the evil person who was trying to wake me.

“Silly,
come on.” Said evil person turned out to be Skylar. She didn’t sound annoyed,
as she so often did when she was charged with the task of waking me. There was
something different in her voice that stopped me from just rolling over to the
other side of the bed and going back to sleep.

“Sil,
I mean it.” She shook me again. “Mom called. We have to go to the hospital.
Now
.”

At
her words, I suddenly felt wide awake, and I was able to discern what was
different about her voice; no, there was no annoyance, only panic.

I moved,
as if on autopilot, shoving my covers aside and climbing out of bed. I was only
vaguely aware that Skylar was still in the room as I pulled my pajama shirt
over my head and pulled on the discarded t-shirt from earlier. Thankfully, she
had enough presence of mind to turn around because modesty was the last thing
on my mind. With shaky hands, I pulled on the first pair of jeans I could find
in the dim light.

Even
though I was moving as fast as I could, it still felt like it wasn’t quick
enough. We needed to get to the hospital, and I couldn’t help but feel that I
was delaying us.

“I’m
ready,” I said to Skylar once my feet were socked.

She
nodded, “Let’s go.”

We
hurried down the hall and down the stairs wordlessly. We found Luke waiting for
us in the foyer. I tugged on my shoes while Skylar grabbed our jackets from the
front closet. She shoved my jacket into my hands once my shoes were in place,
and I pulled it on as Skylar and Luke rushed me out the door.

We
took Skylar’s car, and I slid into the backseat and barely had the door shut
before Skylar was backing out of the drive. As Skylar sped along the dark,
quiet streets, I pulled on my seatbelt. I glanced at the clock on the dash; it
was half past midnight, and the sky was a dark, blank canvas. It seemed so
ominous; I couldn’t find the moon or stars.

In
the silence, I tried, for the first time since I’d been woken so suddenly, to
process what was happening. I realized I didn’t know much. Regardless, I knew,
instinctively, it was bad; I just didn’t know
how
bad. My first thought
was something had happened to the baby, but as my mind—despite the fear and
anxiety—became clearer, I realized that didn’t make sense. If it were the baby,
then Dad would have called.

Breaking
the quietude, I asked, “What exactly did Mom say?”

“Not
much,” Skylar admitted. “She just said something happened, and we needed to
come to the hospital as soon as possible.”

“Do
you think it’s the baby?” Luke asked, speaking for the first time since I’d
woke.

“Can’t
be. Dad would have called,” Skylar replied, voicing my thoughts.

“It’s
Dad then,” Luke sighed.

We
were silent the rest of the drive. I tried to push away and cut off the
worst-case scenarios, but it was hard with so many thoughts racing through my
mind.

For
as long as I could remember, I’d been afraid of hospitals. I wasn’t exactly
sure where the fear came from. I’d spent enough time in the emergency room
growing up; Mom joked, “If you don’t stop hurting yourself, they’re going to
start to wonder if you’re being abused.”

Between
the broken leg and arm, several other instances where I needed stitches, and a
concussion once, Mom had a point, but I had a feeling the nurses could tell the
difference between being clumsy and being abused.

The
only non-accident related time I’d spent in the hospital was when—after having
tonsillitis several times—I had my tonsils taken out when I was eight. Everyone
kept going on and on about how it would be fine and how I’d be able to eat as
much ice cream as I wanted; liars, the lot of them. I wasn’t able to eat
anything besides orange Popsicles, which I absolutely hated, after my
tonsillectomy. I’d always considered it one of the most horrific experiences of
my life. My family, on the other hand, was greatly pleased that I couldn’t talk
much.

My
tonsil trauma seemed so trivial now. I had that strange feeling that always
began in the pit of my stomach, coiling and curling, until it slithered slowly
up into my chest; thinking on it now, I realized it wasn’t a feeling I got
often. The last time I’d felt this way was when Mark was bullying me, but even
then the sick feeling had been a more diluted version. I just knew that
something was terribly wrong.

Once
we arrived at the hospital, Skylar parked in the first place she could find. We
jumped out of the car, and as we approached the main entrance, I wondered how
we’d ever find Mom in such a huge hospital. Fortunately, Mom’s friend from the
country club, Sherry, was waiting for us just inside the doors.

She
looked a bit worried as she forwent a greeting and instructed, “Follow me.”

She
led us down the hallways to the elevators. Time felt as if it were moving in
slow motion as we rode up to the second floor. Once there, she led us down
another set of hallways until, at last, we entered a waiting room.

Mom
was there, sitting on a sofa, with her head in her hands. Sherry’s husband,
Jim, was seated next her, patting her on the back and speaking quietly, most
likely giving her words of reassurance.

“Mom?”
Skylar said in a quavering voice.

Mom’s
head shot up, and I was stricken to see her lovely face blotchy and stained
with tear tracks. Her eyes were glassy and bloodshot and her lips quivered as
she stood. Without uttering a word, she rushed over to us, pulling Luke, Skylar
and I into a hug.

I
wrapped an arm around her and could feel her shaking. The panic I’d tried to
keep at bay resurfaced in full force. While Mom was the more emotional of my
parents, she was usually able to stay levelheaded in the face of a serious
situation; for her to be so visibly shaken—especially in front of my siblings
and I—only increased my fears.

“Mom,”
I whispered, “what happened?”

Luke’s
elbow jabbed me in the back hard enough that I was sure there would be a bruise
as Mom clung to us even tighter. I’d been unaware of Mom’s physical strength;
or, I realized, maybe we were all that was keeping her together. The way she
held us tightly made me wonder if she was afraid of what might happen if she
were to let us go. When she didn’t answer right away, I figured she mustn’t
have heard my question, but then, after another minute, she finally released us
from her tight embrace. She swiped away the tears on her face as she stepped
back. She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Your father . . .”
Her voice cracked, and she paused, taking another deep breath. “They were
playing our song.” Her voice hitched. “I talked him into dancing.” The guilt
was clear in her voice. “Then he just collapsed.” She covered her mouth,
shaking her head as if to shake away the memory. “They’re saying it was a heart
attack.”

Skylar
gasped, and my heart rate seemed to accelerate. The room suddenly felt much
smaller, as if the air had been sucked out of the space. For one terrible
moment, I feared
I
might have a heart attack.

Luke
seemed to be the only one still capable of speech. “Is he okay?”

Mom
shook her head. “I don’t know,” she cried. “I’m still waiting to hear from the
doctors.”

“Leela,”
Sherry said, tentatively, as she approached, “why don’t you sit down?”

Mom
nodded and let Sherry wrap an arm around her shoulders and guide her back to
the couch. I glanced between Luke and Skylar on either side of me. The worried,
tired and confused emotions written all of their faces mirrored my own
feelings.

After
a moment, Skylar heaved a sigh and crossed the room to sit in the chair across
from Mom. Luke and I shared a look before he shrugged and followed Skylar’s
lead. I stood there, feeling awkward and uncertain; sitting around hardly
seemed the thing to do, but what else was there? I moved to take the chair
between Luke and Skylar, but before I got even two steps, a man in blue scrubs
strode into the room.

He
stepped around me, looking toward Mom and Sherry. “Mrs. Granger?”

“Yes,
that’s me.” Mom stood, wiping her wet eyes yet again. Sherry and Jim remained
seated while Luke and Skylar stood as well. I made my feet move to join them as
the doctor began to speak.

“I’m
Dr. Davenport,” he introduced, offering his hand. Mom shook it as he added,
“I’ve been working on your husband.”

“How
is he?” she asked quickly. “Is he going to be all right?”

“He’s
stabilized for now, but we need to perform an emergency surgery to fix the
blockages,” Dr. Davenport explained.

“What
kind of surgery?” Mom asked.

“It’s
bypass surgery to create a detour around the blocked arteries,” he explained.
“Normally, we’d go with the less invasive bypass surgery, but in your husband’s
case, it’s going to require open heart surgery.”

Mom
gasped, and Sherry was there, instantly, wrapping her arms around her. Skylar
reached over and took hold of Mom’s hand. I watched her squeeze it, as if to
reassure her and remind her she wasn’t alone.

“How
soon will you be performing the surgery?” Skylar asked; despite looking green,
she sounded surprisingly calm.

“They’re
prepping him right now,” Dr. Davenport answered. “A nurse will be coming out
shortly with some papers for you to sign.”

“Will
we be able to see him before you take him into surgery?” Mom managed to ask.

“I’m
sure that will be fine,” he nodded. “But I have to warn you: he’s been in and
out of consciousness.”

Mom
nodded her understanding, but I wasn’t sure she was really processing any of
this. She looked so much like a deer in headlights.

The
doctor shook her hand again before he exited the waiting room just as quickly
as he’d appeared. We all sat back down and waited. A few minutes later, as
promised, a redheaded nurse came into the room with several papers for Mom to
fill out. She explained a few things before saying, “Once you’ve filled those
out, I can take you to see your husband.”