Authors: Mina Bennett
"She was driving, ma'am." The paramedic stood up, nodding to his partner. "We're going to take her to the hospital now, if you'd like to follow along."
"Do you feel you're able to drive?" one of the officers wanted to know. My mom couldn't even answer him.
"I can," I said. "I can drive us there."
"You sure, son?" He looked at me with a slight frown on his face.
"Yes," I said. "I'm sure." Mom was already fumbling with her phone, calling Dad in utter hysterics. I felt bad for him, having to find out like this. As if what we'd just gone through was any better.
The paramedics had been blocking most of my view, so I barely saw her before she was wheeled into the ambulance, but I caught sight of a trickle of blood on the side of her head, matting her hair.
My mom didn't talk on the drive to the hospital. The ambulance flipped its lights to let us through every intersection, but I was barely aware of what was happening until we got there.
Mom got on the phone with Katie's mother as soon as Sara was whisked back, and I drove back home to pick Dad up and bring him to the hospital. He looked shell-shocked, standing in the front door with the light on, illuminating the driveway. When he got into the car, he looked like he might be about to say something, but he never found the words. We drove the whole way in silence.
"Apparently," Mom said, after we settled into the waiting room, "she told her friends that we wouldn't let her drive." She took a long, shaky breath, and continued. "She neglected to explain the part about her condition. Another one of the girls - her parents are out of town, I guess, and they only took one car. So she figured it would be a good idea to take a joyride in the other one, and give Sara a chance to have some fun. Katie told her mother they were walking to the park, and they all snuck out. Things went fine at first, until she was on Hobart Road and she started to have a seizure. I'm sure you can fill in the rest of the details yourself." She let out a long, shaky breath. "They say the car flipped - twice. It's a miracle that nobody else was hurt. Just bruises and scrapes. And it could have been much worse. For Sara, too."
"Serious is better than critical, right?" I asked. They both looked at me. "I mean, they said she was in serious condition. But that's not so bad, right?"
My dad cleared his throat. "Yes," he said. "Serious is better than critical."
The doctors came out a little bit later, explaining that she had sustained an injury to her brain, but the extent of the damage was hard to determine at this time. They assured us they were "optimistic." They had induced a coma in preparation for surgery to stabilize her condition, so we weren't going to have a chance to talk to her until much later.
I knew I'd have to go home at some point, to take Molly out and clean up the house a little. But I didn't feel like it just yet. I took a walk down to the hallway of vending machines, walking from one to the other, staring at all the offerings, hypnotized by the lights.
Part of me was angry. What the hell was she thinking? She knew it wasn't safe to drive. But then I remembered all the times Mom had begged me not to ride my bike too far, not too high up,
be careful, it's not safe
. All the times I'd just ignored her. It wasn't the same thing, not even remotely, but could I really blame Sara for what she did? Going after one little taste of freedom that she'd never really have?
She never even had a chance.
I wasn't allowing myself to think about the possibilities. She was going to be okay. She had to be.
I got a Diet Coke and went back to the waiting room.
"You know, honey," my mom said, as I sat down. "You could go home. Walk Molly. Come back later, after she's woken up."
"I will," I said. "In a little bit."
***
The next thing I knew, someone was shaking me awake. I opened my eyes, then quickly squeezed them shut again at the onslaught of the florescent lights.
"She's awake." My mom looked strangely calm. "They say she's talking, she seems alert. We can go see her now."
The whole thing seemed like a dream, whether because I was groggy or because I still couldn't quite process this reality. Sara looked incredibly small and incredibly pale, tucked into her hospital bed with all kinds of things attached to her.
"I'm sorry, Mom," were the first words out of her mouth.
My mom ran to hug her, holding her gingerly around the tubes and wires. "I'm just glad you're okay," she whispered. I could tell she was trying to hold back tears, knowing Sara would just get uncomfortable if anyone cried. But even so, Sara caught my eyes and gave me a look that said it all. I had to hold back a laugh. Even coming back from something like this, she still had a low tolerance for melodrama.
"How are you feeling?" my dad asked, patting her arm a little awkwardly.
"Weird," she said. "Loopy. But okay. I can't remember most of what happened."
"They told us that you might not," said Mom. "But it will start to come back to you."
"So what happened? Did my brain get swollen?" She looked a little fascinated by the idea. "I thought they said something like that. Edema, that's swelling, right?"
"Right," said my dad, smiling a little. "It was swollen, but they were able to relieve the pressure without having to remove a piece of your skull. That's a good sign."
"Oh, gross," said Sara, grinning. "How long do I have to stay?"
"We're not sure yet." Mom was sitting on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly braiding a part of Sara's hair, and Sara - to my astonishment - was tolerating it quite well. "They want to keep an eye on you for a few more days, at least."
"Same old, same old," said Sara, glancing at me. "How's it going, big brother?"
"Good," I said, smiling. "Better now."
"Glad I could help," she deadpanned. "Your phone's ringing."
I hadn't even noticed the sound.
"Jacob," my mom scolded. "You were supposed to turn that off."
"Sorry, sorry," I muttered, hurrying out into the hallway to answer it. I glanced at the screen beforehand - Lily.
I almost didn't pick up, but I changed my mind at the last possible moment.
"Jacob," she said.
"Speaking," I replied.
She was silent for a moment. "I heard there was an accident. With Sara. I'm really sorry, are you guys okay?"
"Yeah," I said. "More or less. She seems to be recovering okay, but her brain got injured a little bit. She's awake, though, and she seems...you know, she seems okay. She's handling it well."
"That's great to hear," she said. "I'm sorry if...well, I felt like I had to call, even though..."
"Sure," I said. "I appreciate it."
Oddly enough, I did.
"Well," she said. "Do you mind if I pass the news along? We started a prayer chain this morning, and everybody's going to be curious. I'm sure they'll be glad to hear about the latest."
"Sure," I said. "Thanks." Until now, I hadn't realized that it was Sunday morning. She was probably standing outside of the lobby while everyone else socialized.
"All right," she said. "I'll be praying for you guys."
"Thanks," I said.
It all came back to me in a rush - last night, the conversation, the breakup. The look on her face. It seemed ridiculously insignificant now, but there was still a sad feeling knotted up in my stomach.
And, as much as I hated to admit it, I wondered - when Lily went back inside and started sharing the good news, would Marissa be there?
I shook off my thoughts, and headed back into Sara's room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Marissa
"So," Mark said, rinsing a knife off and drying it on one of his lint-free kitchen towels. "I heard Jacob's sister is doing better, they're thinking of letting her out of the hospital in a few days."
"Really?" I said, closing the fridge. "That's good news."
Things had been...chilly, to say the least, since our last argument. We hadn't discussed Sara's accident, but it was all the buzz at church. I felt sick with worry but I thought I'd hidden it well.
I could feel him watching me while I set down some vegetables on the counter. "You didn't know?" he asked, with a tone in his voice that made me clench my teeth a little.
"No," I said. "Guess I must have missed it."
"You haven't been talking to Jacob lately, then?"
"No," I said, again. "Is there any garlic?"
"Right behind you. Are you sure? I thought you guys were fast friends."
I went to fetch a few cloves - I did know exactly where they were, and clearly my diversion tactic hadn't worked in the least. "I thought you didn't like it when I talked to him."
"I never said that." He wasn't even pretending to be involved in the food preparation anymore. "But I won't say I'm unhappy, if you're decided to pull back a little bit."
"Well, he has a girlfriend now too. So everything's just great."
"Oh, you didn't hear?" He took a few steps closer to me. "No, she's going to Southwestern. So it's over between them."
My throat tightened. I set the big wooden cutting board down on the counter. "She said that? Or you just assume?"
"Oh, no." He was standing even closer now. "She broke up with him. Wants to get a fresh start, or at least that's what I heard."
"Well," I said. "She must not have been too attached to him, then."
There was a long silence. Finally, he spoke again.
"Must not have been," he said, very quietly. "So," he said, his tone suddenly louder and brighter. "Let's get that oven preheating, hmm?"
***
The next day, my mom called in the afternoon and asked if I wanted to come out shopping with her. I didn't feel like I could reasonably say no, so I texted Mark to let him know where I'd be, in case he got back from classes before we were finished. He never responded, but I could see from the notification that he'd opened it.
Mom was in a good mood - friendly and generous, buying me a few nice trinkets and treating me to a mid-afternoon snack at the pretzel stand. It reminded me of the trips we used to take to this same mall when I was little, how I always wanted to spend all day in the playspace that had a giant foam-rubber spaceship and a beautiful carousel. We passed by it, halfway between the figurine store and the food court. Everything looked so small now. I knew it was just a matter of perspective, but it was hard to believe they hadn't turned around and shrunk it down, when I wasn't looking.
When I got home, I didn't see Mark's car in the driveway, but the garage was closed, so he might be parked inside. I let myself in, wiping my feet on the mat inside.
"Mark?" I unwound my scarf and draped it over the coat rack. "You there?"
He had no reason not to be - that I knew of, anyway. Besides, the house had that warm, lived-in feeling that indicated somebody was home. But he wasn't in the kitchen or living room, so I shed the rest of my winter clothes and headed upstairs. "Mark? Are you..."
I froze in the upstairs hallway. He was sitting on the bed, staring me right in the face. Sitting on the comforter in front of him was something small, rectangular, and plastic.
Pink plastic.
My heart thudded in my throat.
"Marissa," he said, softly. "What are these pills?"
I hugged myself tightly. "They're birth control," I said. "When I was a kid, I got sick..."
He raised his hand, eyes closed for a moment. "Marissa, please stop."
For a while, I stood there in silence, just listening to the sound of my own breathing.
"I don't think I even need to tell you how disappointed I am," he said, his voice cold and even. "That you'd do this without even discussing it with me."
"But we didn't," I said, my voice sounding faint in my own ears. "We didn't talk about it ever. I'm not lying, I've been on the pill since I was thirteen. I got sick, it was...it wasn't for
that
. But then you never said you wanted kids, so I just..." I swallowed thickly. "I didn't stop taking them."
With a sudden burst of movement, Mark jumped off the bed, snatching up the pills and throwing them into the floor so hard they bounced. I winced as he came towards me, pushing forward until he had me backed against the wall. "I can't believe," he said, his voice trembling with barely-restrained fury, "that you'd even try to make excuses to me. This is a partnership, Mari. We make decisions as a team. As a single unit. You didn't even give me a chance to tell you what I wanted. You knew I wouldn't be okay with this, or you would have said something. You were being secretive, and sneaky, and everything that a good wife would
never
be."
Hot tears were sliding down my cheeks. He was right. I'd been secretive. I hadn't told him on purpose, because...because...
"Who the hell would want to have kids with you?" I heard someone shriek, realizing only a moment later that it was
me
. I felt my face grow bright red, and Mark actually stepped back a few paces, shock written across his features.
"How..." he breathed. "Mari, how could you say something like that to me?"
He looked wounded. A barb of guilt went through my heart, but then I remembered. No. No. I had to stop letting him do this to me.
"You don't care about anyone but yourself," I shouted, through my sobs. "That poor little kid at VBS. That used to be me, but you don't even care. You only cared about me because you saw me and you...you
wanted
me. You lusted after me and that made you act like you cared, but now I know you didn't mean it. You...you..."
He was frowning at me, backed up against the opposite wall now, like a hurt animal. "You're not making any sense," he said.
"We can talk about this again when you calm down."
"No!" I advanced on him, and he actually flinched a little. "We're going to talk about it now. We're going to talk about how you pretend to be so righteous, then you turn around and criticize me for the way I dress...make me feel bad...make me feel like a
whore
...all so you can get me to take those clothes off and..."