“I feel fine. Better than fine. I can finally breathe.” Mom pulls out a pair of sweatpants I brought for her. “And I’m not spending one more minute with my backside hanging out, thank you very much.”
She might say she’s feeling okay, but I can see the bags under her eyes and how winded she gets just pulling on the pants.
“Sit down.” I sigh and take a long sleeve shirt from the bag. “Let me help you.”
There was an incision under her arm and another right in the middle of her chest, so she struggles to lift her arms, but together we manage to get the shirt on her. We’ve barely finished before Aunt Joan saunters into the room, all smiles.
“I’ve got two empty bags, let’s get packing,” she says, just as eager as Mom to get us out of here.
My feelings about leaving the hospital are more jumbled and uncertain. I’m relieved, but also surprisingly sad. This sterile, cold room has become an odd sort of home. Mom’s been taken care of here. There are nurses available around the clock to answer my questions or help when there’s a problem. I never thought I’d be hesitant to leave, but I am. It feels like losing a safety net, and I’m not sure if I’m ready. What if something happens? What if I mess something up?
Aunt Joan reclaims the romance novels she lent us, shoving them into her bag. There are two on the table by the bed she hasn’t gotten to yet, and I slip them into my purse. I’m gonna need the distraction when we get home. I could ask first, but I’m not ready to admit I like them. She’ll gloat about it for years. Besides, she brought them for us to read, and she gives them out like candy to the nurses, so I know she won’t mind.
By the time the nurse comes in, Aunt Joan and Mom have everything of ours squeezed into five canvas bags, and I’ve twisted my stomach into knots of anxiety. Mom signs the paperwork in a rush fromher seat in the wheelchair, and then we’re free to go. Just like that. It feels like there should be more fanfare or something. Instead, it happens abruptly with just a few signatures.
The nurse, a smiley Asian woman we haven’t had before, tells us an orderly will be by in a moment to wheel Mom to the exit, and for a flicker of a second, I consider asking if she can call Cosmos to help instead. Then I think better of it. Residents don’t walk patients to their cars.
It feels strange to leave without seeing him one more time, but maybe it’s better this way. I still don’t know how we’re able to stop time—we’ll probably never know—but it doesn’t matter. Parting ways is the natural outcome of this story, so it might as well happen now.
As soon as the nurse leaves the room, Mom gives Aunt Joan a look that I know is the precursor to trouble.
“Ready to bust out of this joint?” Aunt Joan asks.
“We need to wait for the orderly,” I say. “It’s hospital policy.” My protests are weak. I already know they aren’t going to listen.
“Never been more ready for anything in my life.” Mom grins at her friend. Aunt Joan steps behind the wheelchair and tilts it back like she’s doing a wheelie. “Let’s bust the hell out of here.”
I sigh, knowing I’m not going to win this one and grateful for Mom’s laugh as Joan rushes her from the room. At least she didn’t insist on walking.
We barely make it to the elevator before someonegrabs my arm to stop me. Cosmos looks more frazzled and out of breath than I’ve ever seen him, like he’s been running. He lets go of my arm as soon as I spin around, but he’s not looking at me. His cheeks are pink as he smiles at Mom and Aunt Joan.
“Did we forget to sign something?” I ask. “Is the nurse upset that we took off without waiting for the orderly?” I elbow Aunt Joan before shifting the bag I’m carrying to my other shoulder. “I told you they were going to be upset if we just left.”
“It’s none of that,” Cosmos says, seemingly unfazed by my angst. “Mind if I borrow Hazel?” He winks at Mom and Aunt Joan.
My heart skips forward, hope fluttering in my chest, but I try to stamp it down.
“You can have her as long as you want,” Aunt Joan says with a chuckle. “She’s a grown-ass woman with her own car.”
“But what about Mom?” I step away from Cosmos and touch Mom’s shoulder.
“I’m fine.” Mom brushes off my hand. Her smile is soft, but firm. “Go talk to the cute doctor.”
The elevator opens, and Aunt Joan takes my bag from me before I can protest. She gives me a little shove toward Cosmos, causing me to lose my footing and stumble. Thankfully, I catch myself before landing on my butt or, worse yet, in Cosmos’ arms like a heroine straight out of a romance novel.
“We’ll see you at home, Hazelnut,” Mom says. She and Aunt Joan grin wildly at me from the elevator before the doors close.
I glance at Cosmos, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. His dimples are out in full force as he looks me up and down. “Hazelnut?”
“I know you didn’t chase me down to tease me about my nickname. What do you need?” The words come out harsher than I intend, and I cringe. It’s not that I don’t want him to be here. I’m just not sure why he’s here or where this is going, and uncertainty makes me edgy.
“If you’d follow me for a moment,” he says in a tone of pure professionalism. He holds his arm out, directing me to go ahead of him.
My brows pinch together and I hesitate, my thoughts a whirlwind of hope and fear. “Okay,” I finally whisper. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cosmos leads me down the wide hall, waving his badge to open a set of double doors. We make two lefts before he stops, looks both ways, then grabs the cuff of my sleeve and pulls me through a small door. “In here.”
