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Not as long as Alma walked this earth.
The shower ran for a long time. Was JoJo all right?
The pull to go check on her was strong and not entirely unselfish. Instead of giving in, I remained staring at my knees, wasting energy wishing for a different present than we were in.
Dr. Anderson had proved to be our best option when it came to Penelope’s recovery. There had to be someone else out there who could help her. Someone who had some insight while we waited for the specialists’ opinions.
Someone who could do something.
I couldn’t stand to sit here idle, waiting for fate to deal its hand. I didn’t like where fate appeared to be headed, and I was going to do my best to get off this course.
When JoJo returned, her eyes were red and her cheeks were splotchy. Not even a shower could disguise she’d been crying.
I should comfort her. Be there for her to lean on.
Instead, I remained unmoving in my chair, refusing to meet her eyes.
A waft of her earthy scent filled my nose as she moved past me toward her chair. Before she sat, she stood at Penelope’s side and observed her for a few minutes.
When she sat, I focused straight ahead.
I didn’t want to talk. What was there to say?
JoJo and I wanted the same thing. We had a common goal. And I felt myself retreating when I should’ve been moving toward her.
A nurse came in to check Penelope’s vitals. Dr. Anderson had been right about this facility, other than Dr. Hotshot. I’d been impressed with the level of care my daughter had received so far.
If JoJo and I weren’t here round the clock, would a nurse be at her side? I almost had the impression they would be. They also seemed to know when to speak and when to be silent. There was no idle chitchat. And I was grateful for that.
The nurse finished her work, adjusted Penelope’s pillow and blankets, and left with little more than a polite nod.
It terrified me that in such a short time I’d grown used to thebeep-beepof the machine keeping Penelope alive. Background noise, like a piece of furniture. That was what it had become.
The rhythm of the rise and fall of Penelope’s chest never changed. Because the breaths were artificial. Yet real enough to keep her alive.
I touched my phone to look over the list of specialists again, to make sure we hadn’t missed one. The battery was almost dead.
I glanced around to find a plug and realized I had no idea where the charger was or if we even had one. I certainly hadn’t bothered to grab the one we’d been using at the hospital.
“I saw one in the bedroom,” JoJo said quietly. “On the nightstand.”
Was this what we would become? Two people who communicated necessary information and nothing beyond?
I retrieved the cord and plugged it in a nearby outlet.
A quiet tap on the door made me look up.
Neil.
What was he doing here?
He knew Penelope better than I did. I was surprised he hadn’t already showed up.
JoJo stood and rushed toward him.
Bastard.
He folded her in his arms and held her tight.
