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Dorothy pressed her lips together. “Nervous habit. ”
Margie reached over and held Dorothy’s hand. It still surprised her sometimes, the easy intimacy she’d found with Margie; it surprised her, too, how much it could mean to simply be touched by another human being who understood you. “I’m afraid,” she said.
“Of course you are. You’re a mother. Fear is the job description. ”
Dorothy turned to look at Margie. “What do I know about motherhood?”
“You’re a fast learner. ”
“What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she wakes up? I don’t know how to go back to who I was without her. I can’t just walk up to her bed and say hi. ”
Margie’s smile was sad, as tired as the look in her eyes. “She always wanted something to do with you, Dorothy. I remember the first time she asked me what was wrong with her, why you didn’t love her. It broke my heart, honest to God. I told her that sometimes life didn’t work out the way you expected, but that you never gave up hope. She was seventeen then. Your mother had just died and she was afraid of where she would live. We took her in, gave her a place to live. That very first night, when she was in bed in Katie’s room, I sat down beside her and told her good night. She looked up at me and said, ‘She’ll miss me someday,’ and I said, ‘How could she not?’ and Tully said—so quietly I almost couldn’t hear: ‘I’ll wait. ’ And she did, Dorothy. She waited for you in a thousand different ways. ”
Dorothy wished she were the kind of woman who could believe a thing like that.
* * *
Time passed for Tully in blurry images and nonsensical vignettes—a white car, a woman in pink saying something about feeling better now, a moving bed, a TV tucked up in the corner of a white room, voices that were a distant drone. Now there was only one voice. Sounds came at her, breaking apart, forming … words.
“Hello, Tully. ”
She blinked slowly and opened her eyes. There was a man standing beside her. A man in a white coat. She couldn’t really focus on him; the light in here was so dim. She missed light. What did that mean? And she was cold.
“I’m Dr. Bevan. You’re in Sacred Heart Hospital. You got here about five days ago. Do you remember?”
She frowned, trying to think. She felt as if she’d been in darkness for hours, years, lifetimes. She couldn’t remember anything. Just something about a light … the sound of running water … the smell of green spring grass.
She tried to wet her lips—they felt painfully dry—and her throat was fricking on FIRE. “Wha…”
“You were in a car accident and sustained a serious head trauma. Your left arm was broken in three places, as was your left ankle—though that was a clean, simple break. Both bones healed nicely. ”
Car accident?
“No, Tully, don’t try to move. ”
Had she been trying to move? “How … long?” She didn’t even know what she was asking, and by the time he said something—she had no idea what—she was closing her eyes again. She would just sleep for a minute …
* * *
She heard something. Felt something. She wasn’t alone. She took a deep breath, released it slowly, and opened her eyes.
“Hey. ”
Johnny. He was here, beside her. Behind him stood Margie and Marah and … Cloud? What was her mother doing here?
“You’re back,” Johnny said quietly, his voice uneven. “We thought we’d lost you. ”
She tried to find her voice, but even with her best effort, her words came out garbled. She couldn’t think clearly.
He touched her face. “We’re here. All of us. ”
She worked hard to focus, desperate suddenly to tell him something. “Johnny … I…”
Saw her.
What did that mean? Saw who?
“Don’t worry, Tul,” he said. “We have time now. ”
