Midnight Valentine(98)
He’s filled all four of his little vials by now and removes the heinous needle. I get a cotton ball topped by a purple Band-Aid to cover the tiny hole in my arm, then we’re done.
“Well, I can honestly say you’re the best phlebotomist I’ve ever known, Tommy. Good job.”
“Thanks.” He looks at me for a moment. “You doin’ okay?”
I’m taken aback by the question and run a hand over my hair in embarrassment. “I look that bad, huh?”
“I see a lotta people come through those doors. You get a feel for ’em.”
My laugh is uncomfortable. “Oh yeah? And what’s my vibe telling you? Woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown?”
The corners of his lips lift into a small, mysterious smile. “Woman on the verge of something. You take care now. Happy Thanksgiving.”
He leaves me sitting in the chair, wondering what the hell that was all about.
I decide people who draw blood for a living are weird.
* * *
When I get back to Theo’s room, I pull up short, shocked to see Coop and Suzanne setting up a makeshift Thanksgiving dinner table on the empty bed next to Theo’s.
“You guys,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “What’re you doing here?”
“Are you kidding?” says Suzanne, hustling over to give me a hug and a kiss. She pulls away and beams at me, holding me by the shoulders. “Where else are you supposed to be on Thanksgiving other than with family?”
“But, Coop…” I look at him, taking up most of the space in the room with his blond bulk and his grin. “Your kids.”
“They’re with their mother today. I’m gettin’ ’em for Christmas. Which works out great, seein’ as how I can’t stand my mother-in-law.”
“Ex mother-in-law,” says Suzanne over her shoulder.
Coop grins at her. “Right. Ex.”
When Suzanne looks back at me, her cheeks are red, which tells me everything I need to know about what these two have been up to since I’ve been staying in Portland.
“That nice nurse lady Ana said she wasn’t supposed to let us in here with all this food, but most of those stuffy-ass doctors are gone for the holiday, so she snuck us in. And…”
Her signature skyscraper heels clicking on the floor, she trots over to a paper bag on the desk under the TV and pulls out a dish wrapped in aluminum foil. She holds it up like a trophy. “I made key lime pie!”
When my lower lip starts to quiver and my eyes fill with tears, she looks horrified.
“Oh, shit, don’t tell me you’re on a diet! Is that why you look like a stray cat?”
“I love you, Suzanne,” I say, and burst into tears.
“Sweetie, it’s okay.” She must have handed the pie to Coop, because her arms come around me in a gentle hug. Then she pats my hair as I fall apart, sobbing into her boobs. She murmurs into my ear, “I love you too. Even if you are ruining my new silk blouse with your snot.” She sighs. “Why are the prettiest girls the ugliest criers?”
By the time I manage to get myself together and Suzanne and I break apart, Coop has finished putting out the food. Everything is there: turkey breast, stuffing, corn, sweet potatoes. They’ve even brought cranberry sauce. It makes me want to burst into tears all over again, but I’ve got something more important to focus on now.
The smell of the food is turning my stomach.
“You’re lookin’ a little green over there,” says Coop, glancing at me sideways as he pulls paper plates from a bag.
“I’m just tired. This looks amazing, you guys. Thank you so much.”
We each fill a plate with food, then drag chairs around Theo’s bed and eat in silence interrupted only by the steady beeping of Theo’s heart monitor.
After a while, Coop says quietly, “He’s thin.”
“You would be too if all your meals were liquid.”
Coop glances at the lump under the blankets where the feeding tube is inserted into Theo’s abdomen. His eyes register pain, and he quickly looks back at his plate. “Anything new?”
I pick at the stuffing on my plate with my fork, moving it around so I look busy. They went to all this trouble. I don’t want to insult them by not eating. Or, worse, eating and throwing everything right back up. “Nothing. His vitals are all stable.”
“What about the EEG?”
I whisper, “No change. His brain waves look like the surface of a lake.”
Suzanne says casually, “My grandma Rhoda was in a coma for two years before she came out of it. Just woke up one day and demanded chocolate pudding. She didn’t have any brain waves either. Didn’t mean a thing in the end. If God wants you to wake up, you’re waking up. If she doesn’t, you don’t.”