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“Just being here with us helps. We should go over there and be with them.”
“I was thinking the same thing. I doubt they’re sleeping.”
“I’m sure they aren’t.”
“Eat your lunch, and then we’ll go.”
I feel slightly more alive after lunch and a shower, and by the time we pull up to my parents’ home an hour later, I’m ready to be strong for them. At least I think I am. We left Everly with Austin’s parents so we can focus on mine.
“Hey,” I say to Austin before he gets out of the G-Wagon.
“Yes, dear?”
“Thank you for being here for me and my family.”
“Of course, sweetheart. They’re my family now, too. You’re my family. Milo is my family. I hate that this has happened to him and to all of you.”
“I hate it, too, but I’m coping with it better than I would be without you here to support me.”
He takes hold of my hand. “The best thing about this, about you and me, is we never have to go through anything alone ever again.” Bringing my hand to his lips, he kisses the back of it. “We’re in this together.”
“I’m very thankful for that every day, but especially today—and yesterday.”
“I got you, baby. Let’s go see what we can do for your parents.”
The first thing I notice when I step inside is that the counters are laden with food of all kinds, which doesn’t surprise me. That’s what our community does when someone experiences a tragedy. But we can’t let it sit out to spoil, so I get busy organizing and labeling the trays before storing them in the fridges in the kitchen and garage. With Austin’s help, we get everything put away while making a list of what we have and who sent it so my mother can send thank-you notes later.
People are so incredibly generous. There’s a wide variety of main dishes that run the same rich gamut as our neighborhood, with everything from Cuban to Italian to Caribbean to Puerto Rican and Brazilian. The scents that would normally have my mouth watering in anticipation have the opposite effect thanks to my pregnancy, and by the time we’re done, I’m in a cold sweat from trying not to be sick.
Austin hands me a glass of water and a handful of crackers. “Drink and eat. It’ll help.”
While I know that’s true, it’s nearly impossible to swallow the crackers. I try anyway.
“Your folks are in the family room.”
Nodding, I take another drink of the water and prepare myself to stay strong for them as I go in to see them.
They look terrible, and it’s obvious they haven’t slept at all.
Mom holds out her arms to me, and I go to her, hugging her tightly.
“We got a text from Jason that he’s doing well, resting comfortably,” Dad says. “They’re hoping to move him to the ICU in a few hours. We can see him then.”
“That’s good news.” I need to watch every word and expression. As a nurse, they’ll be looking to me to interpret things for them, and I want to keep them optimistic even as I shatter on the inside while considering the possible outcomes for Milo. “We put all the food away.”
“Oh, thank you. People have been coming all morning. Everyone is so kind.”
“You’d do the same for them.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Nico comes in looking like the walking dead. I can tell he’s ravaged by guilt and remorse and the same bone-deep fear that’s gripped the rest of us. Only it’s a million times worse for him because he feels responsible for Milo being hurt in the first place.
My heart goes out to him as I hug him. “How’re you holding up?”
“Not well. I just went to look at the car…” He shakes his head. “It’s a wonder he survived at all.”
“Why’d you do that?”
