“She won’t wake up.” I said fighting back tears. My shoulders shook with my silent horror.
“Move aside.” He said gently pushing me so he could lean directly over my mom. “What’s her name?” He asked.
“Janice.” I whispered. Panic stirring in the pit of my stomach.
“Janice? Can you hear me?” He gently prodded her neck.
“She is breathing but barely and her heart is faint.”
“What do we do?” I choked out.
“What any logical person would do. Take her to the hospital.” He said.
I grabbed a pillow and a blanket and made a makeshift bed in the backseat of Jonathon’s mustang. He carried my mom easily from her room to his car. He was so strong. His muscles stuck out beneath his shirt. Jonathon placed her on the backseat and I covered her with a blanket.
“Love you mom.” I said faintly, only I should have been able to hear it but somehow Jonathon did.
“Don’t say your goodbyes yet.” He said. I said nothing as I climbed into the passenger seat.
I buckled my seatbelt silently and stared out my window. Jonathon began backing out of my driveway just as my tears started.
“She’ll be fine.” He said.
“I hope so.” I replied as I wiped tears from my eyes. “She’s all I have left.” That’s when Jonathon did something unexpected; he grabbed my free hand and squeezed gently almost too gently. A shock vibrated through my body, images flashing behind my eyes. Jonathon painting, Jonathon laughing, Jonathon smiling at me, Jonathon dressed in renaissance style clothing, Jonathon was everywhere, Jonathon, Jonathon, Jonathon.
Once, the images stopped I looked up at him to see if he had seen what I had seen but he acted oblivious so I thought maybe it was just my imagination running wild.
I studied his hand with my fingertips, tracing the pattern of his smooth hand, feeling the cool touch. His hand was warmer today but it was still colder than what would be considered normal. But his solid hand reassured me something I desperately needed. Jonathon didn’t let go of my hand the entire ride to the hospital. Whether because he thought I needed the comfort or because he liked being close to me I didn’t know.
We pulled into the emergency section of the hospital. The tires on Jonathon’s mustang screeched to a stop. Hurting my ears in the process. I jumped out of the car slamming the door closed behind me adding more noise and chaos to the background. I was reaching to move the seat back to get to my mom but Jonathon was already there swinging my mom up into his muscular arms and chest. But how had he gotten there so fast?
He carried her as if she weighed no more than a feather. Jonathon tossed his keys to me as he began walking into the hospital. I began to follow when he said, “Park the car. I have to get your mom inside.”
“But. . .” I began, trying to protest.
“I’ll check her in and get some doctors to look at her.”
“I want to be with her.” I complained like a five year old girl.
“Do it now!” he growled. “There’s no time for arguments.
I turned my back on him and walked to his car, defeat clear on my shoulders. Why was it so important to him that I park his car? I don’t want to be away from my mom and he knows that. So, why get rid of me? What if he knows she is already dead? I can’t lose my mom. I’ve been through so much already I don’t think I can take much more. I’m not sure I can make it through alive. This time I have no incentive. I climbed into the driver’s side and put the key in the ignition. It purred to life. I drove to the parking lot following the arrows so I wouldn’t get lost.
I ran into the hospital straight to the nurse’s station or whatever you call it.
“Jonathon Pulmer just came in with my mom, Janice Lyons.” I said breathlessly. I had run all the way from the parking lot to here.
“Let me see here. . . Um. . . Yes . . . here it is. . . Janice Lyons room 264.”
“Thanks.” I said running glancing over my shoulder as I ran to the elevator.
The doors opened silently and I rushed in. I hit the button labeled two. The doors opened and I ran down the hallway. I stopped in front of the door labeled 264 but I didn’t enter because I heard voices.
“How can we tell her that her mom attempted to commit suicide? It would crush her.” Jonathon said. I could tell it was him from the sound of his voice. The other male voice I couldn’t recognize.
“I don’t know Jonathon.”
“Could we lie to her and say Jan