Mom shakes her head, takes my hand in hers and kisses it. “She didn’t make it, baby.”
I wrinkle my forehead in confusion. “Didn’t make what?”
“Tiffany was killed in the accident, Meredith,” Mr. Pritchett says. His eyes are full of tears too.
“What?” I pull away from Mom, yank my hand out of hers and bump into a chair. “What?”
“Come on,” Mom says. “We have to get back now.”
“I don’t understand.” I can’t stop crying now. My whole body feels hot, like it does when you stand in the bathroom with the shower running hot on a summer day. I can’t breathe. “I want Tiff! I want Daddy!”
“We’re going to see Daddy right now,” Mom says and pulls me out of the office, through the front doors of the school to the police car out front.
I want to ask why the police are here, but I can’t talk. This can’t be happening. What in the hell is happening?
Mom hugs me hard on the drive to the hospital. The tears have dried up, but I feel numb. This can’t be true. Dad had to take Tiff to her dentist appointment this morning. They’re fine. Maybe he took her out to lunch after the appointment and there’s been a mistake.
The policeman’s radio is loud with a deep, monotone man’s voice listing numbers and ten-fours. When he pulls up at the hospital, he helps Mom and me out of the car. He has nice eyes. Sad eyes. He pats my shoulder and walks next to us into the hospital, up an elevator and down a hallway. It smells like medicine and cleaner and feet. I hate the smell of feet.
Why does the hospital smell like feet?
Mom leads us to a room where a curtain is pulled, blocking the view of the bed. She keeps my hand in hers as we walk inside and as we walk around the curtain, I see my daddy lying in a bed with tubes coming out of his mouth. He has a white and green hospital gown on. His face is all bruised. His hand is scratched up badly and his right arm is wrapped in gauze from his elbow to his fingertips.
“Daddy,” I whisper.
“Go talk to him, baby.” Mom guides me next to him. “You can touch him.”
“He’s hurt.”
She nods quickly, tears spilling from her eyes again. “He is, honey. They’re just keeping him with us until we have a chance…”
My eyes fly to hers. “He’s going to die?”
“He is.”
A doctor joins us. She has crazy red hair and freckles, but she has kind eyes too, like the policeman.
“Your dad was in a very bad car accident, Meredith.”
“He’s breathing,” I point out desperately.
“With the help of this machine, yes he is. But sweetie, when we turn the machine off, he will pass away.”
“How do you know?” I ask angrily. “You don’t know! My daddy is strong! He’s just scratched up!”
“Your daddy
is
strong, Meredith,” the doctor replies when my mom can’t. “He tried all he could to save your sister. He is a brave man. But you have to say goodbye to him now, honey. You can both take your time. Spend some time with him.” She squeezes both mine and mom’s shoulders and leaves. The policeman leaves after her, and we are alone with my dad.
“Mom?” I don’t want to touch him. If I touch him, this might all be real, and it can’t be real. “Mom, he just looks scratched.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to say goodbye.” I shake my head slowly. I can’t look away from him.
“Okay.” She clears her throat and smiles bravely at me, then pulls two chairs by his bedside and motions for me to sit closest to his head. “Let’s just sit for a while and talk. Let’s tell stories. I bet he can hear us.”
“What k-k-kind of stories?”
“Any kind. Happy ones.” Mom takes Dad’s hand in hers and bites her lip. She puts it up to her face, nuzzles her cheek into his palm the way she always does when we all sit and watch movies together. Tiff always steals all of the Sour Patch Kids.
“Remember when we took the road trip down to the beach in Oregon last year and Dad kept warning Tiff that she might get bit by sharks?” I smile at the memory as Mom snickers.
“He likes to torment you girls,” Mom says. “You and Tiff collected about a hundred sand dollars on that trip.”
“Ninety-six,” I say proudly. “We were so close to a hundred, but then we had to come home.”
Mom and I sit and talk for a long time. Daddy never moves, but I think he can hear. I finally get brave enough to reach out and lay my hand on his arm.
“He’s warm.”
“I think we have to say goodbye now, baby.”
Tears cloud my eyes as I stare at this man that I love so much. “I don’t want to.”
“I don’t either.”
“Mama, why did this happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where’s Tiff?”
She’s quiet for a long minute.
“She’s in the morgue, honey.”
“Here? In the hospital?” I’ve seen
Law and Order
when Mom and Dad didn’t know I was watching, so I know how the morgue works.
“Yes.”
“Can we say goodbye to her too? Before we leave?”
“I don’t know for sure. We’ll ask, okay?”
I nod and stare at Daddy. I just want him to wake up. Just for a minute. Just to tell me that he loves me and that I’m pretty. So I can tell him I love him and that I will be responsible and I will take things more seriously.
I stand and lean in so I can whisper in his ear. His hair is bloody and his ear is all swollen and scraped up, but I ignore it and talk anyway.
“I love you so much, Daddy. You are my hero. I will watch over Mama. Don’t worry, okay?” I sniffle and kiss his cheek, resting my lips against his scratchy stubble for a second. He used to always tease me with his stubble, rubbing it against my neck, making me giggle. I brush my nose over it for a second. “I love you.”
I step away and wipe my nose on my sleeve and watch as my mom, rather than sit next to him, or lean in and whisper like I did, crawls on top of him, rests her head on his chest, wraps her arm around his waist, and just cries. It’s the saddest cry I’ve ever heard. So loud and long. She buries her face in his neck and holds on, crying for a long time.
When it seems like she might have fallen asleep, she kisses his cheek, his neck and then his lips. Tiff and I always make gross faces when they kiss and stuff but this time it just makes me cry harder. When she lays her head back on his shoulder, she whispers to him. I can’t hear all of the words, but I do hear
love, forever, best time of my life.
Finally, when she’s all done, she stands and leans over him. She kisses his forehead and next to his lips and presses the red call button.
A few seconds later, the doctor comes back with a bunch of other people. She has Mom sign some papers, and then the team of people unplug all of the machines and take the wires off him. I don’t know what they mean or what they do.
They leave just the one that beeps with his heartbeat on and silently leave the room. Mom sits with him, murmuring to him, caressing his face.
“Love you so much, darling. You’re not alone. You don’t need to be afraid. Go see our girl. Go be with her now, and I’ll see you a little later.”
I’m crying silently. The beeps are getting farther and farther apart, until finally, there’s a beep and then… nothing.
No more beeps.
Just me and Mama, crying.
***
The house is quiet. It’s not quite dark yet. After Daddy was gone, we were escorted down to the morgue, which is
nothing
like
Law and Order
, to see Tiff. They would only let me see her face. They wouldn’t tell me, but I think her arms were really hurt because I wanted to hold her hand, but they wouldn’t let me.
My baby sister was really pale. Her eyes were closed like she was sleeping. But her hair was bloody like Daddy’s.
I wanted to wash her off. They should have cleaned her up. They should have put a pillow under her head. I tried to make them put the barrette I stole this morning in her hair, but they said they wouldn’t.
Mama said we would make sure someone puts it in her hair so she’s pretty when we bury her.
Mom and I stand in the living room, looking around with blind eyes. Why does it look the same?
Dad’s sneakers are by his rocking chair. Tiff’s backpack is on the kitchen table. It smells like them.
“I’m going to bed,” I whisper and trudge up the stairs to our bedroom and stop at the doorway. This is
our
room. Tiff’s and mine. We share a room, even though we could each have our own. Tiff’s bed is made. Her side of the room is always cleaner than mine.
“Meredith,” Mom says softly. I turn to look at her. She looks… tired. Her eyes are swollen. Her shoulders are saggy.
“I can’t sleep in there,” I say quietly. “She isn’t here to sleep with me.”
“Do you want to sleep in the spare room with me?” she asks and offers me a watery smile.
“You’re not going to sleep in your room?”
“Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.” I nod and follow her down the hall, past her room to the guest room.
“It’s not even dark out yet,” I murmur. “And we didn’t have dinner.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“What do you want, baby?”
I shrug and bite my lip. I can’t look her in the eye. I’ll just cry again. “I guess we could just sleep.”
I don’t know where Mom got them from, but she pulls Daddy’s T-shirts over our heads and we slide under the covers together.
“Daddy will hug us tonight, baby girl,” she whispers brokenly. His shirts do smell like him, and it’s like having him right here with us.
“Wait!” I jump from the bed and hold my breath as I run into my room to grab something off Tiff’s bed, then run back in with Mom. Mom hugs me close, Tiff’s ratty old bear between us, and we both cry together, missing Daddy and Tiff already. We cry for a really long time, until we fall asleep.
“Meredith?” The passenger side door opens and Luke is there, holding my face in his hands. “Jesus Christ you’re pale, Mer. Come on, we have to go inside.”
“Luke?” Sam is suddenly next to him. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. She looks…
hollow.
”
“Should I get some help?”
“No,” I reply hoarsely.
Chapter Twenty One
“I’m okay,” I murmur and move to get out of the car, but Luke holds me still for a moment, examining me.
“You’re not okay.”
“I need to get to Mark.”
“Where were you, Mer? You were gone during that entire thirty minute drive.”
“I was in the past.” I firm my chin and do my best to not show him that I’m falling apart here. I don’t matter. I need to get to Mark.
Luke swears under his breath and steps back to let me out.
“Her dad and sister,” Sam murmurs.
“I know,” he replies.
“I’m right here. I can hear you.” I try to shake them off, but they flank me. Luke wraps his arm around my low back and Sam takes my hand, and we walk into the emergency room together.
“I’m glad you can hear me now because you couldn’t five minutes ago,” Luke says almost angrily. Why is he mad? Maybe he’s just scared. God knows I’m fucking terrified.
“What happened?” I ask. Jesus, I wasn’t even thinking clearly enough to ask what happened. “Is he dead?”
“I fucking hope not,” Luke replies. Now he
is
mad, and Luke never gets mad. He takes one look at my face and then takes a deep breath and swears softly. “I’m sorry. No, he’s not dead. I don’t know how bad his injuries are. Isaac is on the way here too. He was on the job site.”
“It happened on the job?” I ask incredulously. “How in the hell is there a car accident on the job?”
“Let’s see if we can see him and I’ll tell you what I know.”
Luke leads us to the reception desk and flashes the woman behind the counter his million-dollar smile. “Hello. My brother, Mark Williams, was just brought in. Can you buzz us back?”
She taps on her keyboard and frowns. “I don’t have record of him. When did you say he came in?”
“He should already be here.”
“Could be they’re still on the way. I do show that we’re holding a room for an ambulance.”
“We beat them here?” Sam asks disbelievingly.
“Check back with me in a while,” the receptionist says with a smile. Luke leads us to the waiting room and I plop in a chair, trying not to think about the germs that I’m sitting on.
“Jesus, I hate emergency rooms,” Sam mutters. “Do you know what kind of nastiness is on these chairs?”
“You and I are on the same page,” I say absently as I rub my eyes. “Okay, tell me.”