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I hate how glad I am that he's here. I hate that I want him to sit me down and explain that shit is going to be okay.
I hate that part of me believes he can fix this.
My head is so full it's buzzing. The lack of sleep doesn't help. I need to see Mom, then I need to get into a bed. This will all be clearer in the morning.
I cross the lobby and tap my father on the shoulder.
He looks up at me. "Christoper. You're here."
"Yeah." My fingers curl into fists. I try to fight it, but it's useless. My hands are trained to follow their instincts.
"She's not in the ER anymore. She was admitted a few hours ago." He pushes himself up from his chair and nods to the East wing of the hospital. "It's past visiting hours, but we can sneak in for a few minutes."
Of course we can. Dad has the charm and looks to get entry everywhere. That's half the reason why we're here. If he wasn't so good at getting into women's pants—
I know that's not it, not exactly, but I don't have the energy to dive into the nitty gritty.
My head is spinning. I'm fucking tired. Walking straight is taking all my energy.
I need sleep. Or coffee.
Dad moves past me, to the front desk. He smiles at the nurse working admissions, an older woman in pink scrubs. He turns on the charm, whispering something as he shoots her fuck me eyes.
It works. She smiles, nods to the door, and motions one minute.
I shouldn't complain. I'm getting what I want.
Dad motions for me to follow him into the hallway. I do. It's bleak, too white, too bright, too squeaky.
We stop in front of Mom's room. He goes to pull open the door, but I stop him.
"She's asleep." I can see her through the window. She looks peaceful. Calm. High.
He nods. "It's been a rough day."
"Yeah."
"I found her in bed when I got home. She wasn't moving. I called an ambulance, they rushed her here, pumped her stomach." He plants his hand on my shoulder. "Kit, you listening?"
Sort of. My head is still spinning. I nod yeah.
"It wasn't enough to be intentional, but she'll still have to do a psych evaluation in the morning. If they don't rule it a suicide attempt, she'll be out."
I nod. I know the drill. It never happened to me, but I saw enough friends OD to know the fucking drill.
The hall is squeaking again. Those are footsteps. The nurse in the pink scrubs is walking towards us.
She looks at me with pity. "I'm sorry about your mother."
I nod. I don't need her pity. Or her sympathy. I need Mom to give a fuck about this, to care enough to go to rehab and get clean.
But it's not like I can talk. I've been clean for less than a year. I wouldn't bet on my future.
"Your mother is going to be okay for now," the nurse says. "But at the end of the day, if she doesn't stick with rehab, this will eventually kill her."
I nod. Yeah. This is stuff I know.
Dad nods back to the nurse. "Thank you. For everything. We shouldn't take any more of your time."
