Page 22 of Songs for Libby

“Have people been lurking?” I didn’t want the stupid media poking their noses where they didn’t belong. I didn’t want to end up in a news article. Again.

Claire shook her head. “Security is doing a good job and now that he’s settled in a room, this area will be tightly controlled. Things should be fine.”

I nodded to myself. “Good.”

“Don’t worry,” she said as she finished up and headed toward the nurses’ station. “We’ve got things well in hand.”

♪♫♪

I parked myself in the waiting room during Sean’s surgery and fell asleep on one of the couches. There was a crick in my neck when I woke, and I sat up, trying to rub it out. When my eyes focused, I saw the lady from the night before sitting across from me, a coffee cup in hand. She held it out to me. “You should have gone home to sleep. Rookie mistake.”

I blinked in surprise, then took the coffee from her and murmured my thanks.

“I’m Naomi, by the way,” she volunteered.

“Libby.” I took a sip.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You’re back early,” I commented when I realized the sun hadn’t been up for long.

She shrugged. “I have a day job, which means I have to check on him during my ‘free’ time. Is your friend okay?” she asked.

I looked around, catching the eye of the nurse behind the counter. She said nothing. I shrugged. “I think he’s still in surgery.” My leg bounced up and down, worried that it was taking so long. Or maybe he was done, but no one had told me.

“Um…” I stalled, trying to decide what to do. “Maybe I should go make sure he’s not back yet.”

“Okay.” She kept her seat, sipping from her own coffee cup.

My body faced the direction I needed to go to get to Sean’s room, but my feet wouldn’t follow. Eventually I checked my phone and then sat down. If he was out of surgery, Randy would have texted me.

Naomi’s mouth lifted in an understanding smile. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” My sigh was resigned. “No matter how much it hurts.”

She looked me over, her eyes assessing, then tilted her head down the hall. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

I drifted mindlessly beside her, allowing her to steer me down corridors and elevators until we reached a larger waiting area with a coffee cart and vending machines. “Sit,” she commanded and I took up residence on one of the couches, while she set her purse and jacket into the seat next to me. The presence of her personal items finally registered. “Your dad doesn’t need you?” I asked.

“He’s asleep. You don’t mind if I eat a little something with you before I go, do you?”

I shook my head.

She smiled and excused herself.

Left once again with my own thoughts, my mind quickly spiraled into the realm of worst-case scenarios. Possible complications with the surgery. Sean not gaining back full use of his hand. Not being able to play the guitar again. He would realize this life was killing him and he’d finally hate me for pushing him into it. He’d push me away and then he’d nose dive and there would be no one there to pull him out.

Naomi came back with a random assortment of vending machine items, piling them on the table in front of me.

“Hopefully I picked something you’ll like,” she said as she took her seat.

A wisp of a smile crossed my face. “This is great. Thank you.” I found a granola bar and pulled it open.

After a couple minutes of silence, Naomi spoke up. “He’s going to be fine,” she assured me.

I huffed, feeling slack and tired. “He doesn’t have great luck.”

“Maybe not, but he has great surgeons.”