Chapter 4
The following afternoon, I heard my mother’s voice at the nurses’ station before I saw her.
Sharp.
Offended.
Certain the world owed her an exception.
“I am her grandmother,” she said. “You cannot keep me from my family.”
A nurse answered in the calm voice hospital staff use when someone is making their day harder than it needs to be.
“Only approved visitors are allowed in the pediatric ICU room right now.”
“Her mother is upset,” my mother said. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
Marcus stood up.
Josh looked at me.
I felt my stomach drop before they even entered the room.
My parents swept into Emma’s ICU room dressed like they were headed to lunch, not standing beside a child’s hospital bed.
My mother had her oversized purse hooked over one arm.
My father did not look at Emma first.
He looked at me.
“That bill wasn’t paid,” my mother said. “What’s the hold up?”
The room froze around that sentence.
The nurse at the doorway stopped with one hand on the chart.
Marcus’s paper cup crumpled in his grip.
Josh looked up from the wall phone like he was not sure he had heard a human being say that in a pediatric ICU.
Emma’s monitor kept beeping, steady and small, the only thing in the room still doing its job.
“Get out,” I said.
My voice sounded calm because anger had burned past language.
My father folded his arms.
“We drove all this way,” he said. “The least you can do is stop acting hysterical and explain yourself.”
I looked at the plastic water pitcher by the sink.
For one ugly second, I imagined throwing it hard enough to make him finally hear me.
Instead, I kept my hand on the bed rail.
I pointed to my daughter.
“Look at her,” I said. “She almost died. She still might. Leave.”
My mother barely glanced over.
“She is asleep,” she said. “Enough with the theatrics. Charlotte needs that money today.”
I reached for the call button.
That was when her face changed.
Not guilt.
Not fear.
Not even shame.
May you like
Calculation.
“You would not dare humiliate us,” she hissed.
