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“Madison?” Paula says again. “Are you diabetic?”
Madison whimpers a ‘yes.’ Then she mumbles something that makes absolutely no sense to me.
Luckily, Paula understands. “Insulin?” she asks, helping Madison sit up. Paula gives her the energy bar.
Madison chews it slowly.
Paula turns to me. “When was she supposed to take her insulin?”
My stomach drops to the floor, along with my knees as I kneel in front of Madison. “Maddy...what are you talking about? What insulin?”
Madison throws her head back, lifting the energy bar and biting into it.
“I didn’t know,” I mumble.
Paula takes the soda and uncaps it, offering it to Madison. “Has she eaten today?”
“I think so. I mean, we skipped lunch—”
“She can’t skip meals if she’s diabetic. This is what happens.”
“I didn’t know,” I repeat, looking back at Madison. “She didn’t tell me.”
Madison’s gaze lifts to mine, her eyes pleading. Her bottom lip quivers as she forces herself to swallow and take a sip of the soda.
“Where’s your insulin?” Paula asks her. “Is it in your bag?”
I turn my back on both of them.
“Apartment,” Madison whispers. And then louder, “Ky?”
“Yeah?” I say, still unable to look at her.
“I’m okay,” she squeaks. “This isn’t your fault.”
My phone sounds, giving me reason to pretend like I didn’t hear her.
Jackson: When are you bringing the car back?
Ky: I can’t. Madison. There’s something wrong with her. I don’t know what to do.
Jackson: Where are you?
Ky: Picture Perfect on Eighth.
When I return my attention to Madison, Paula’s talking to her, “You’ve been out in the sun all day, dehydrated, and you haven’t eaten or had your insulin. This could have been really bad, Madison.”
“I know,” she answers.
Her hands tremble as she brings the soda to her mouth.
Paula stands in front me. “She needs to go home. She needs to eat. And you need to monitor her sugar, make sure it doesn’t spike too high or too low. And you should probably get her a diabetes bracelet, too. Just so people are aware, if or when this happens to her again.”
I try to take in all her words, try to remember in detail everything she just said. “Thank you,” I rush out. “If you weren’t here...I don’t know what the hell I would have done.”
“Hey,” Paula croons, rubbing my arm. “If you don’t know what the signs are, you can’t be expected to know how to react.”
“You’re a life saver.”
She shoves her hands in her back pockets and rocks on her heels. And then she smiles. “You’re welcome...?”
“Ky.”
Her smile gets wider. “It was nice meeting you, Ky. I mean...under the circumstances and all.”
Madison clears her throat; her brow bunched as she looks up at me.
I sigh and sit down next to her.
“You scared me,” I tell her, linking our hands.
She doesn’t respond.
Jackson shows up in a squad car; sirens blaring.
“Why are the cops here?” she asks, clearly panicked.
“It’s just Jax.”
“He’s a cop?”
“Detective.”
“Oh,” is all she says.
I watch Jax walk in, and then squat in front of us. “How are you doing there, Madison?”
“I’ll be okay,” she says, resting her head on my shoulder.
“What happened?” he asks me.
“She’s diabetic,” I manage to get out.
He looks back at Madison. “You need me to take you to the hospital? You can ride in the squad car.”
“No!” She straightens up quickly and shakes her head. Then she takes a few calming breaths and adds, “Honestly, Jackson, thank you, but I’m fine. I just need to go home.”
He rears back a little, startled by her response. When his eyes find mine, I shake my head. I don’t want him questioning her, or pushing her too much.
I’ll be doing enough of that later.
I reach into my pocket and hand Jackson the car keys. “Are you able to give us a ride?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
He makes his way back to the squad car and speaks to the driver through the window. I watch as the car disappears a moment later. Then I look at Madison, sipping slowly on her soda.
“We need to talk about this, Maddy. I’m serious.”
***
I lean against her bathroom counter with my arms crossed while she shows me her medicine bag. “So how much do you use? I mean...are there different doses depending on...I don’t even know what the fuck to ask right now.”
“Ky, it’s fine. I have it under control.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “Clearly.”
“Don’t be mad. We had a good day today.”
“Yeah...we did. And then you could have died.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
I throw my hands in the air and push off the counter. “What if Paula wasn’t there?”
“Oh Paula,” she says, her nose scrunching in disgust.
“What?”
“Yeah. She loved you.”
“Shut up.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “What!”
