Page 47 of The Cost of Love

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Chanice keeps saying to the oldest while rubbing her head. She holds the youngest in her arms, rocking her. They look so identical that it’s obvious they are related, but they are much too old to be her kids. Still, she takes on a motherly role with them, stepping into the responsibility of being the one to keep it together.

“Do you know what’s going on?” She puts the girl down despite her protests, freeing her arms to hug the other one.

“They didn’t say much; they just took him. We have only been here for thirty minutes, and they said they would update once they got a better look. I told them you were on your way.”

As if remembering how she got here, Chanice turns and looks at me. Her lips pull tight, and her eyes widen a little before she nods once in a thank you.

“You don’t have to stay,” she says.

I don’t know much about what is going on here, or what she has to do with any of this, but I do know I will not leave her to deal with it on her own. If it’s her job to take care of them, then it’s my job to take care of her.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Her shoulders relax a little, and she looks back at the girls.

“I’m going to see if I can get some information.” She walks back into the hallway, and the oldest sinks into a seat, her head falling into her hands.

I’m about to go over to her to try and say something when the other one walks up to me, her arms wrapped around herself, big amber eyes looking up.

“Who are you?”

Technically, I can’t say that I’m anyone to Chanice at this point, at least not anything you can explain to a child. But I have to tell her something.

“I’m Alex. I’m a friend.”

Satisfied with that answer, she wipes her nose and smiles a little gap-toothed one like Chanice’s.

“I’m Gabriella, and I’m hungry.”

Finally, something I can do. I pull out my phone, happy to have a way to help. “We can order whatever you want.”

“Gabby,” the oldest reprimands, pulling her onto her lap. “You don’t have to do that.” She looks at me, her lips puckered.

“I want to do it.”

They both seem to perk up at this, and Gabby starts to name off things from a fast-food shop. My fingers tap along with her words, ordering the food as she goes.

“What do you want, Imani?” Gabby asks.

Imani gives me her order, finishing just as Chanice walks back in.

“We just have to wait,” Chanice says, sliding into the seat next to the girls.

We just got here, and already she looks so tired. I can see her trying to retain control, so she pulls them into her arms and becomes the backbone to hold them up. It’s clear this isn’t the first time she has had to step up for them.

“We are ordering food.” I try to hand her the phone, but she waves it off.

“Always trying to feed someone, huh?” She smiles, and the slight relief at a moment of reprieve lights up her face.

“It’s fast food, so it’s really what they wanted.”

As she looks at the two of them, I can see her whole world reflected there. It’s clear these kids mean everything to her, including whoever is in surgery right now. The questions return, and I slide into the seat next to them to stop them from coming out. Instead, I just watch as they interact with each other.

I recognize the ease and comfort with which they communicate. The non-verbal ways they show their love. Their bond is deep. They have to at least be siblings. I see in them what I have with Olivia. Except the way they are depending on Chanice bypasses the normal depths of this relationship. They need her. Which might have something to do with the fact that no one else has shown up yet. She might be all they have.

While we wait for the food, we are quiet. It continues while they eat, and the whole time, I just observe them. It’s not until Gabby comes to sit beside me that I stop.

In the inquisitive way that kids are, she starts to ask me questions. Every once in a while, she gets distracted and goes on a tangent about a show, a story from school, or something that she loves, happy to have someone new to talk to. We pass the time this way, just talking and learning about each other.