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CHAPTER FOUR
Savannah
It was the low voices that eventually stirred me from my drug-induced rest. Which was no easy task, I might add. It felt like trying to surface when you were chained underwater. You could see the sky, but getting there just took a lot of effort.
“There’s my girl,” my mom greeted me as my eyelids fluttered open, wincing a bit at the bright light streaming in the windows. Her hands were already wrapped around mine, giving them a hard squeeze. “You took quite the nap there, my darling,” she told me.
“Drugs,” I said.
“What kind do you want?” she teased, eyes sparkling. “A little weed? Some mushrooms?” she went on until she had my lips twitching.
“No, the drugs made me sleep,” I told her, slow blinking around the room.
There wasn’t much to note. It was all linoleum floors and muted colors. Sterile and uninviting. Save for the potted plant sitting by the window.
“They have them in the gift shop,” my mom informed me. “I went down to grab some coffee. Awful, by the way, a sin, truly,” she told me. “And I saw it. I thought you had to have something living in this room. It’s not good to have everything feel so… cold,” she decided.
It was cold, too.
Freezing.
Why did hospitals always run so cold? When all they supplied were flimsy, scratchy blankets?
“It’s healthy for a gift shop plant,” I said, looking over at the Baltic Blue Pothos with its little split leaves.
“It helps that they thrive on a smidgen of neglect,” she agreed. “How are you, baby?” she asked, reaching up to swipe some of my hair out of my face. They must have removed my high pigtails because I didn’t feel the tightness in my scalp I’d expected for having them in for so long.
“I’m okay,” I told her.
There was pain clawing its way through whatever opioids were still swirling through my system, but I didn’t want to ask for more meds right away. I wanted to be conscious for at least a little while.
“Honey, you were shot. I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to be okay,” my mom insisted.
“I think I’m a little… in shock about the whole thing,” I admitted. “It all just happened so fast. And then the pain…”
God, there was nothing in the world like that. Not in my experience anyway. The searing, stabbing, burning pain.
“You lost quite a bit of blood. Which is not good considering they believe you were already anemic,” she said, her voice taking on that tiniest bit of a mom-tone. We’d talked about the anemia. Ad nauseam. “You were supposed to be taking those blood builder pills.”
“I know,” I agreed. “And believe me, I will now.”
“Well, they have you on an infusion now, sweetheart. You don’t need to worry too much. How is your pain?”
“It’s… there. But I don’t want more drugs yet. How am I… medically?”
“You’re going to be just fine. You were incredibly lucky. The shoulder wound went through you. The police have the bullet they’d taken out of the wall. And your stomach, that was where you were the luckiest. It managed to avoid all your major organs and your intestines, which the doctor said would have been very serious. It got lodged in some fat on your hip.”
“What I am hearing is the doctors think my love of pasta and potatoes saved my life,” I quipped, watching my mom’s face as she laughed, then broke off on a little sob. “Hey, I’m okay,” I assured her as she bent forward over me, resting her forehead against my good shoulder. Gently. Barely touching me.
“I know,” she said, still crying, her hot tears landing on my gown, then slipping through the thin material. “I just need to let this out. I was so scared for you, honey,” she said, sniffling hard.
My mom didn’t get sad or stressed often. But when shedidcry, she cried hard. And I knew better than to try to do or say anything to ease it. I’d been raised to understand how important it was to let your emotions and your experiences move through you, so they didn’t get stuckinyou.
So I just let her cry, then pull herself back together.
“Okay. Well, now that is over,” she said, sneaking some tissues from my nightstand, then wiping her cheeks. “If you don’t mind, I was thinking of running out to get us some breakfast. They serve you here, of course, but…” she said, waving a hand out.
“Go ahead. Get us something decent,” I invited.
