Not yet.
“I must, I must,” she argued.
Wait, my Nia.
Nia withdrew from the doctor’s tempting wrist. “I don’t want any more tests. I want to go home tonight. I must leave tonight.”
“Okay,” the doctor agreed, under her spell. “You may go tonight. I will write the order.”
“Yes, go write the orders. And tell my mother I want to see her. She’s out there, yes?”
“Yes,” he answered like a robot.
“Tell her to come in, as I’ve heard what happened.”
“I will,” he said, unable to take his eyes off the white-skinned angel. She was all-consuming. “Anything else? Anything at all? Tell me . . .”
“Go. I need my privacy.”
He didn’t want to leave, but he did as he was told—the good little doctor.
The door remained open, and Nia’s mother guiltily ambled in.
“Mom.”
“Nia.”
Nia shook her head. “Mom, Mom. I didn’t know you were out for blood.” Nia watched the blood pumping through her mother’s aging body—a strong heart and a strong will this woman had.
“I’m sorry. It was an accident. I heard something in the room. I was startled. I can’t express how sorry I really am. I love you. You’re my girl. I know I’ve been hard on you these past few months. I’ve been under a lot of stress with your father traveling, and money has been tight.”
Nia sighed and reached out a hand to her mother. She took the warmth of her in.
“You’re so cold, Nia. The doctor told me you want to go home later. I really think you should stay here. You didn’t see what happened last night. It was. . .” A single tear dropped down her fine-lined, heavily painted cheek.
“I died. I know. I died. I saw Grandma.”
“What?” Nia’s mom backed up, disbelieving.
“Willy was there too—her cat. That cat was always fat.”
“Why are you saying these things? Are you trying to hurt me?”
“Of course not. I only tell the truth. You know I’ve never been a good liar.”
A new, younger blonde nurse popped her head in the door. “You have a phone call; just press the red button there. Phone is on your table.”
Nia glanced at her mother, who had backed up near the door. “You don’t have to stay. You can go. Really, I’ll be fine.
The woman hesitated, then nodded and left, walking as if the weight of the universe was upon her shoulders.
Nia picked up. “Yes.”
“Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?” It was her Andy.
Nia smiled now as she knew exactly what she wanted. “Yes. Come get me, Andy. Please. I need you.”
“You do?” He sighed in relief.
“Yes, Andy. You’re all I think about, though I’ve denied it all this time. I need you, Andy.”
She heard him stumble over some furniture.
“Tonight, Andy. I want you tonight.”
He stuttered, unable to get a word out. “Uh . . . uh . . .”
“You know it, Andy. You can feel it, can’t you?” She giggled slyly, but certain that they both knew what was about to dawn.
“Yes,” he said.
“Come, Andy. Come.”
Dropping his cell to the floor then retrieving it, Andy sputtered out an almost incomprehensible sentence. “I’m coming . . . uh, uh . . . there . . . I mean, soon. Tell me when.” His voice sounded frenzied.
“Focus, Andy. I need you. Seven. Bring me something to wear.” she said. “When it’s dark. You know I like the dark. I’ve always enjoyed the dark.”
“I do too,” he said, “and the stars in the sky. I love stars. I love—”
She hung up on him, smiling and tapping her red nails.
***
“Faster. Drive faster,” Nia demanded.
“I’ll get a ticket. Campus police is always out,” Andy argued. .
Nia touched him. “Do as I have asked. You must.”
He pressed down on the pedal and glanced over at her, as if trying to figure out a great mystery. Surely I seem different to him, she thought. He must be wondering . . .
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, honestly concerned.
Slipping her hand down onto his scrawny thigh, she answered slowly with intent. “I must say this: there is something wrong. You’re very observant. I’ve always known that about you.” She yanked her hand away and pulled down the old Civic’s vanity mirror. The holes on her neck were gone. She flipped it back up. “I’m not sure exactly. My memories of it all are blurry. I remember . . .” Nia paused, glancing up at the full, friendly moon. “As I told my own mother, I remember my grandmother. She said something to me. She said, ‘Stay in the light. Come with us. ’ She seemed happy at first, but then she was scared, like a terrible fear washed over her silken, wrinkly face. I’ve never seen her like that before.”