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She reached for his hand, but he pulled away. She understood: he wanted her to know that he didn’t want to be here. When it came to her family, he might be beside her, but she was alone.
On the fourth floor, they exited the elevator and walked down a beige, brightly lit lobby toward the ICU. A place she knew all too well.
She saw her father and grandmother in the waiting room. Dad looked up, saw her. She slowed, feeling both fragile and defiant in his presence.
He stood slowly. His movement must have alerted Grandma Margie, because she got to her feet, too. Grandma frowned—no doubt at Marah’s heavy makeup and pink hair.
Marah had to force herself to keep walking. She hadn’t seen her dad in so long; she was surprised by how much older he looked.
Grandma Margie limped forward and pulled Marah into a fierce hug. “It can be hard to come home. Good for you. ” Grandma drew back, looked at Marah through teary eyes. She looked thinner since the last time Marah had seen her, skinny enough to blow away. “Grandpa’s at home, waiting for your brothers. He sends his love. ”
Her brothers. Marah’s throat tightened at the thought of them. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them until right now.
Dad’s hair was grayer than she remembered. A day’s growth of beard shadowed his jawline. He was dressed like an old rock star, in a faded Van Halen T-shirt and worn Levi’s.
He came closer, moving a little awkwardly, and pulled her into a hug. When he let go and stepped back, she knew they were both thinking about the last time they’d been together. She and Dad and Tully and Paxton.
“I can’t stay long,” Marah said.
“Do you have something more important to do?”
“Still judging us, I see,” Pax said lazily. “Big surprise. ”
Dad seemed determined not to look at Pax, as if ignoring her boyfriend could change the fact of his existence. “I don’t want to jump into this again. You’re here to see your godmother. Do you want to see her?”
“Yes,” Marah said.
Behind her Paxton made a sound she knew well, that little snort of derision. How many times had he reminded her that her family didn’t really accept her unless she was Good Girl Marah, who did what they wanted and looked a certain way? And hadn’t Dad proved the truth of it last December?
That’s not love, Pax had said. They don’t love the real you, and what’s the use of anything else? I’m the one who loves you for you.
“Come on,” Dad said. “I’ll take you to her. ”
Marah turned to Paxton. “Will you—”
He shook his head. Of course he didn’t want to go. He hated pretense of any kind. He couldn’t pretend to care about Tully’s health. That would be dishonest. It was too bad; she could have used a hand to hold right now.
She and Dad walked down the hallway. There were people all around them, coming and going. Nurses and doctors and orderlies and visitors, all speaking in hushed tones. The muted conversations underscored the silence between her and her father.
Outside a glass-walled room in the ICU, he stopped and turned to her.
“She’s in bad shape. You need to prepare yourself. ”
“You can’t prepare for the shit life throws at you. ”
“Words of wisdom from Paxton Conrath, I’ll bet. ”
“Dad—”
He held up his hand. “Sorry. But you can prepare yourself. She doesn’t look good. The doctors have lowered her body temperature and put her into a medically induced coma in hopes that her brain swelling will go down. A shunt is supposed to help with that. They’ve shaved her head and she’s bandaged up, so be ready. The doctors think she can hear us, though. Your grandma spent two hours today talking about when Tully and your mom were kids. ”
Marah nodded and reached for the door.
“Baby?”
She paused, turned.
“I’m sorry about what happened in December. ”
