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Chapter 22
Two days have passed and thank God Charlotte is doing well. The only thing she has is a mild concussion, but physically she'll heal. These last two days, my cupcake talked about what happened. She explained how she witnessed Cindy shooting Thomas. When that happened, she ran through his house, trying to hide. But the wretch found her and threatened to kill her if she didn't cooperate. My smart girl went with her, but pulled off her necklace and dropped it on the floor. Now my nights are short from dealing with my baby waking up screaming and crying. I gaze outside and follow the clouds flying by from the window of her hospital room.
"Mommy, when can I visit Nick?"
"Soon. Maybe today." Her little face lights up as she hears this.
A nurse knocks and walks inside.
"Good morning, Charlotte. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. We're going to paint and draw today in the recreation room. You can make a picture for your mom or someone else."
Charlotte sits up straight, and her eyes get that gorgeous sparkle I haven't seen in a while. Her attention darts to me. "Can I go there, Mommy?"
"Sure."
"Great. I'll pick you up in half an hour. So eat your sandwich," the nurse says as she leaves the room.
Charlotte takes her sandwich from her plate next to the bed and devours it with greed. With her mouth still full, she says, "Go… ing… to… ma… ke… picture… f… G… iant."
"That's a great idea, sweetheart. He'll love that."
A half an hour later, both the nurse and Alisha walk through the door. “Good morning, you two,” my dear friend says with an upbeat voice.
“Alisha,” Charlotte yells. She slides off her bed towards her aunt, who gives her an enormous hug.
"How are you, sweetie?"
"Good, I'm going to paint and make drawings for everyone. But the first one will be for Giant."
"Sounds cool, sweetheart. Have fun."
After giving me a hug, the nurse takes her to the recreational room. The moment they're outside, Alisha turns to me.
"And how are you, Em?"
Tears well up in my eyes. God, I've been an emotional wreck. I can't stop crying. It's as if my tear ducts have a free subscription to Niagara falls. I turn my gaze outside to keep my composure.
"The doctor stopped the medically induced coma this morning. John, Martha, Amanda, and I were in the room when the doctor stopped the ventilator. God, it was the most nerve-wracking thing ever. But thank God, Nick breathed on his own when the doctor stopped and removed the ventilator. Now a waiting game. We have to be patient and see when and if he wakes up." Hearing that the last option is still possible is nerve-wracking.
"That's not what I asked you, honey. How are you?" Alisha asks as she comes and places her hands on my shoulder. "Are you up for eating and drinking something in the restaurant downstairs? Afterwards, you can go to Nick's room while I go in for my last check-up with the doctor. Hopefully, he'll sign my release papers."
I nod and we leave. God, I can't envision the rest of my life without Nick. When I do, it's like invisible anacondas, wrap themselves around my soul, tightening their grip as I let the possibility of it happening whirl through my mind. No, I need to stay positive and be strong like Martha.
As we walk through the halls, Alisha takes my hand, and from time to time, she squeezes it. At first, I thought nothing about it until I detect it happens every time someone stands behind her. From my peripheral vision, Alisha's lips are a grim line, and her hand I'm holding is clammy. I guess I'm not the only one who isn't feeling okay.
As we enter the restaurant, Alisha walks to the back and takes a seat. She lets out a deep breath when she sits with her back against the wall and hides her trembling hands under the table.
"Alisha, what's going on?"
Her eyes dart up.
"Nothing, I'm fine. Don't worry. But could you get the drinks? I've walked too much."
She avoids my gaze by looking at the menu and summoning up her order. "I'd love a latte macchiato with caramel. And a cinnamon donut, I need carbs."I decide not to pushfurther, as I understand that maybe, like me, she might not be ready to talk about certain things.
When I return, I sit and place the food and drinks on the table. I bite my lip as I gaze at the sweet treat before me. I've ordered myself a mint tea and a slice of chocolate cake, but I just want to cry seeing the different brown tints of the pastry. They remind me of Nick's irises and hair. God, I'm a mental case.
For a few minutes, we eat in silence, but when I take a bite of the cake, a wave of nausea showers over me. As I swallow a few times to get a hold of it, Alisha studies me.
