A Hope for Emily

“I wanted to see how you were doing. James told me he agreed to go ahead with the treatment.”

“Yes.” She pauses. “Thank you, for your part in it. It wouldn’t have happened without you.” The words feel more dutiful than heartfelt, and I wonder if she can possibly realize what this has cost me. I decide that she probably can’t.

“I’m so glad it’s working out.” I glance at a couple who are emerging from one of the patients’ rooms, their heads bowed. “I… can we talk?”

Rachel looks a little hesitant but then she nods. “All right. I suppose…” She hesitates. “That is… would you like to meet Emily?”

Even though I knew I was coming here, I hadn’t considered that I would actually see Emily. Meet her. I feel emotional suddenly, like a hand grabbing my throat. “Yes, I would,” I say. “Thank you.”

A minute later Rachel is ushering me into a quiet room, sunlight streaming through the windows, a little girl lying in a bed. I recognize her from the photos, and yet I don’t. Her eyes are open, which is jarring even though I knew to expect it, her face slack, her body still. I swallow hard, knowing I need to get this right, and yet feeling entirely out of my depth.

What would I want Rachel to do, if this was my child?

And then, bizarrely, it suddenly feels natural. My child. I walk towards Emily, a smile spreading easily across my face, like butter on toast. “Hello, Emily.” I sit next to her and touch her hand; her nails are painted pink. “What a beautiful day it is. And look at this!” I touch the teddy bear I bought her, propped by her head, which makes me smile wider. “He looks familiar.”

There’s no response, of course, and I wasn’t expecting one, yet the ensuing silence feels like the saddest thing I’ve ever had to endure. “I wonder what his name is. I think he looks like an Elmer to me. Although Elmer is an elephant, isn’t he?” I glance at the other stuffed animal on her bed—a faded blue elephant, clearly well loved once upon a time. “You’ve already got an elephant, I see. “What’s his name?”

“Blue,” Rachel says softly. I glance back at her, and she gives me a tremulous smile, fighting back tears. “Thank you for that.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“You understand more than… well, you understand. I don’t know how or why, but you do.” She sits in the only other chair in the room, on the opposite side of the bed, and the three of us stay like that, breathing in the silence.

“I’m planning to go to Italy in two weeks,” Rachel says eventually. “That’s when the ambulance agency can fit the travel in. She has to go by private plane… it’s not easy. Or cheap.” She lets out a shaky laugh. “But I’ve got the money together, from the crowdfunding, and also from my mom. She was happy to give me as much as I wanted. This is really happening.”

My heart swells; it’s as if I can feel it getting bigger in my chest. “I’m so glad, Rachel.”

“I know you are. I don’t totally understand it, or you, but I know you are.”

I glance down at Emily; her eyes are moving, back and forth, back and forth, which jolts me. I must make some soun

d of surprise, because Rachel explains, “The doctors say it’s just a reflex, but it doesn’t feel that way to me.” Her voice hitches and then evens out. “It feels like more.”

I can understand that. If my daughter’s eyes were open, moving around, looking at things, I would think it was more too. I would have to. “Have you told them you’re taking her to Italy?” I ask quietly.

“Yes. Dr. Brown, the head of her team, wasn’t too pleased. He think the travel will put her at risk of infection, and the treatment is so new as to be completely unverifiable. I know that.” She sets her jaw. “But there’s nothing he can do about it, thankfully. I still have control of the medical decisions for my daughter, along with James, no matter what the experts advise.”

“So it’s really happening.”

She folds her arms, nods. “Yes.”

I touch Emily’s hand; her skin is soft and cool, and very slightly damp. I can hear her breathe. “It’s going to be hard, doing this all alone.”

“I know.” Rachel takes a deep breath. “My mom wanted to come, but the way she is… you know she has Parkinson’s…”

“Yes. You told me.”

“She’s started some treatment, and the travel will be difficult for her.” She pauses then admits, “And the truth is I don’t think I can manage her and Emily. I’m not sure I’ll even manage Emily.”

It’s the perfect opening for the thought that’s been forming in my mind, my heart, all along. The idea that is ridiculous, absurd, that I’m pretty sure has crossed no one’s mind but my own.

“I could come with you.” I speak softly, my eyes on Emily, but I know Rachel hears me. I hear it in her soft gasp, and I look up to see her eyes wide, her lips parted.

“What…” she begins, shaking her head slowly.

“I could come with you to Italy. To help. You’ll need another pair of hands. And emotionally… I know we’re not exactly friends, but this isn’t something you should have to do alone.”

“But how could you…”