When we get there, I sit in the waiting area while Chuck is taken into a patient room to see Charles. I stare down at the worn old sneakers on my feet and think about Charles. At our last book club, after we talked about The Secret Life of Bees, Evelyn suggested a watch party for the movie adaptation and Charles had offered to host it. Would he get the chance now? He’d seemed to love the idea.
After what feels like hours but is probably only about ten minutes, Chuck emerges and takes a seat beside me. He slides his big hand over mine, nearly engulfing it, and I ask meekly, “How is he?”
“Unconscious,” Chuck says. “He’s in a coma and they’re not sure if he’s going to wake up.”
“Oh Chuck,” I say, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
Is it enough just to be here? I don’t know. But being at Chuck’s side right now is the only place I want to be.
12
Chuck
It’s the longest night of my life—even longer than the night I lost both my parents in a car accident. That night, awful as it was, at least everything happened quickly. They’d died instantly—no pain, or that’s what Gramps told me.
And I had him to hold me and tell me everything would be okay… eventually.
Tonight, I’ve got Cassidy by my side and as much as my heart is breaking right now, I’m so glad she’s here. She hasn’t let go of my hand since we sat down in the waiting area, and she’s been trying her best to distract me.
She tells me about the first time my grandfather approached her about dating me. “I barely even knew him,” she says, “but I could see in his eyes how much he cares about you, and that all he really wanted was for you to be happy.”
“That’s all he wants for anybody,” I say. “He’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known. When my parents died, he made sure to love me enough for both of them.”
Cassidy squeezes me a little tighter and I realize what I’ve just said. That’s the most I’ve told anyone about my parents’ deaths in a long, long time, and she just nods and listens. She doesn’t pry for more information, or try to offer up platitudes.
She’s just what I need.
Now.
Always?
I open my mouth to say more, but then Nurse Lane appears in the waiting area. She’s on overtime by now, but she’s been by my grandfather’s side since he was admitted and her unwillingness to give up hope has given Cassidy and me hope too. I perk up as soon as I see her.
“Your grandfather’s heart rate has just increased,” the nurse says. I feel my hopes lifting and she hurries to add, “That by itself isn’t necessarily a sign that he’s coming out of his coma. I think you should come and be with him, just in case.”
“Okay,” I say, standing, not letting go of Cassidy’s hand. “Can she come with me?”
Nurse Lane nods, and I look to Cookie.
“Do you want to?”
“Yes,” she says. “Please.”
So the nurse leads us into my grandfather’s room, checks the monitors once again, then leaves us alone with him for a few minutes. I approach cautiously, Cassidy coming in my wake. Gramps is so small, so vulnerable-looking in this hospital bed. I hate the sight of him like this.
I sit down and Cassidy stands beside me, her hand on my shoulder.
“Hi, Gramps,” I say. “Can you hear me?”
Nurse Lane told me the first time I came into the room that coma patients can often hear everything going on around them. I hope it’s true now. I look to the monitors, which are beeping away with reassuring steadiness, but I’m no doctor—it’s meaningless to me.
“Grandpa,” I say, taking one of his hands in mine, careful not to disturb the ghastly IV and monitor leads coming off him. “I’m here.”
One of the monitors gives a little jump in frequency, and I look to Cassidy. Her brows are furrowed and her eyes glisten with concern. Then, they widen. Those gorgeous emeralds become orbs of surprise and she breathes, “Chuck. Look!”
I look back to my grandfather, whose eyes flutter open.
“Gramps?” I ask in disbelief. “Are you awake?”
He squints in my direction, struggling but not really seeing, but his hand squeezes mine. “Chuck?” he rasps. Then he looks up. “Is Cookie with you?”
I nod. “Yes, she is, Gramps.”
I pull her closer to the bed and she adds her hand to ours. “I’m here, Charles.”
A weak smile pulls at his lips and he manages one more word. “Water.”
Cassidy looks for a cup and a straw and finds them on the lap table at the end of the bed. She holds it to Gramps’ lips while I dash into the hallway to call for Nurse Lane, then return to his side. I watch as Cassidy leans over the bed and kisses Gramps’ cheek, saying, “Welcome back, Charles. I’m so glad you didn’t leave us.”