Surge

21

Drake was stillin the hospital the next day when Nora arrived. I’d thought it might be strange, me and two strangers picking her up. In my mind’s eye, my mom and Nora would stare at each with their hands in their pockets saying hello for an hour, giving each other stiff smiles and asking questions about each other like they were on a bad blind date.

That never happened.

Mom, Tyran, and I waited outside the baggage claim, and when I saw Nora’s layered brown bob and wire-framed glasses, I nudged my mom with my elbow. “That’s her, with the purple suitcase.”

Nora pulled an enormous suitcase that looked heavy. She must have shoved everything but the toaster in there; she had no idea how long she was here to stay.

My mom rushed ahead of us, walking so quickly she reached her before we could hear what she said to Nora, and then the two women hugged. My mom rubbed her hand affectionately on Nora’s back as Tyran and I approached, passengers flowing out of double doors on either side of the women like ants avoiding a puddle.

Tyran and I stood back a bit, allowing these mothers a moment of empathy. Nora looked over to me, let go of my mom, and opened her arms in my direction.

“Maeve.”

I went in for a hug, one so tight it nearly squeezed the air out of my lungs.

When we were done, my patient brother held out his arms, wide. “Can I have a hug, too? Don’t want to be left out.”

“I got plenty where those came from,” Nora said, hugging my brother. She leaned back with her hands still on his arms. “I feel like I already know you, Tyran. Drake told me you’re a titan of industry.”

“I don’t know about that,” my brother said.

“Well, he was very complimentary. If he loves you, I love you.”

It was as if we’d all known each other for a long, long while. Nora, like Drake, had an inherent ease about her and a total lack of inhibition.

Tyran drew back and grabbed the handle of Nora’s suitcase while we walked toward the short-term parking. It all felt so much more natural than I ever could have anticipated. It was comfortable and immediately felt right. It was a good thing, too. Because if we’d entered the next few days with anything less than this, we might not have survived it.

Our moms chattedin the backseat while I drove with Tyran in the passenger seat of my Prius. I looked in the rearview mirror and wondered if this was what it was like to be a parent driving children. A sudden pang hit me, and a tear stung my eye.

Maybe I’d never know that feeling for real.

I’d tried to stay positive and full of hope, but Google had stolen it away from me one url at a time. My heart hurt thinking Drake had seen any of the potential numbers associated with his disease. Many people with this condition don’t even live past a year. I’d spent the past twenty-four hours terrified he’d be on the wrong side of these statistics. Dumbfounded by the unbelievable nature of one day planning your future and the next watching it disappear, fate darkening the road before you.

If he had been online, he certainly hadn’t mentioned it. We’d only been able to text a little over the past twenty-four hours as I wrapped up my caseload the best I could at work, visited the hospital, and in a moment of optimism, took extra blankets to the pool house.

Nora’s energy shifted when we stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital. She stiffened immediately, and her shoulders rose up and down visibly as she drew in deep breaths to calm herself.

I looped an arm through hers. “You okay?”

She nodded but wasn’t. In my peripheral vision, I glimpsed my mom, brows furrowed, looking at Nora with sympathy. Maybe the only worse thing Dixie could ever imagine next to my dad dying was Tyran or me going before her.

I clenched my jaw; this way of thinking had to stop. I couldn’t head into the room with Drake and doctors and test results with this bad fucking attitude. I needed to be strong and… hopeful. Always hopeful. Right to the end.

I led Nora, my mom, and Tyran followed close behind. The labyrinth of hallways seemed to never end, and when we finally reached a few feet from Drake’s room, I pointed, and Nora sped ahead, breaking into an expected run.

When we turned the corner ourselves, she draped over her son, saying muffled words into his shoulder. Drake held on to her tightly, and when his gaze met mine, it was the first time I’d ever seen something close to tears in his eyes.

Nora pulled back, but she hadn’t been crying. She looked strong and determined, though it was impossible to hide her worry.

Drake glanced over at the rest of us. “I thought my Uyu gang was a motley crew. But this is like a murder mystery party with one of each person.”

My mom took a step closer. “Only the cat could drag in this lot,” she joked.

Dr. Chidozie turned the corner and took a step back, not expecting the place to be full of bodies. “Treat a rock star and the hospital fills up with groupies.”

Nora reached her hand up slightly, as if in a classroom. “I’m Drake’s mom.”