Send Me a Sign (27 page)

I leaned forward to close the gap between our lips, but he dodged and kissed the side of my neck. Creating a blazing trail up to my ear, he breathed, “The nurses said no kissing till your numbers improve. Get better and we’ll make up for lost time.”

He gave me a devilish, dimpled grin, then pressed his lips to the
V
of my pajama top and traced a finger along my waistband. “Don’t tell me it’s not worth the risk—don’t tell me we’re not worth it.”

I couldn’t tell him those things without becoming a liar as well as a coward. So I pushed his hand away from my stomach and inched backward on the bed. “I think you should go.”

He recoiled like I’d slapped him. “Fine. But I can’t keep doing this. I’m not coming back until
you’re
serious.”

Chapter 34

I wasn’t going to answer my phone—until I saw who was calling. “Gyver?”

“Hey, Mi. Meagan told me you were sick. How are you?”

“I’m …” I couldn’t think of an answer to that sentence that wouldn’t require a lengthy explanation. “Will you come visit me?”

“You want me to?” He sounded surprised, like it hadn’t been
him
avoiding
me
since last Sunday in my kitchen.

“Of course! Always.” It was the simplest, truest thing I’d said all day.

“I’ll be there soon.”

While I waited for Gyver, I tried not to think about my fight with Mom. Or the tension with Hil. Or my frustration with Ryan. Or the enthusiasm of the crowd, the flip of my cheer skirt, the laughing pulse of the party. Now that I’d decided not to hide, the things I’d sacrificed crushed me with their absence.
Like she knew what I was thinking, Ally sent me a photo of them smiling in spirit shirts and cheer skirts. Wish u were here 2!

I was fidgety with emotion that thrummed just under my skin. Annoyed or not, I felt something for Ryan, but it was Gyver’s company I needed right now. He’d help me figure out what to say to the girls and how to fix things with Mom.

“Hey, Mi.”

“Hey!” I knelt up on the bed and held out my arms. “You’re late!”

“Well, Impatient One, we stopped at Scoop’s to get milkshakes and there was a line. I didn’t know if you’d want strawberry or vanilla, so I got you both.” He set them down on the bedside table and hugged me.

“Vanilla, please.” I pulled away. “Wait, we?”

“Hi. It’s okay I came, right?” Meagan stepped from behind Gyver and gave me a hug of her own.

No! I wanted Gyver to myself. I needed his perspective. I needed him to defuse everything in me that was about to combust.

I smiled plastically. “Of course.”

“Meagan!” Doctors and nurses flooded my room and she was engulfed by hugs and questions of “How are you?” All my nurses, even Business Nurse, went out of their way to greet and pet her. I added bitterness and resentment to my internal cesspool—this was my hospital now, not hers.

While Meagan was treated like returning royalty, Gyver relaxed into his spot next to me. He reached over and tapped the IV line. “What good stuff are they feeding you today?”

“Just fluids. They’re going to disconnect me for the night after this bag. My fever’s down and I stopped puking.”

“Not puking’s good,” he answered.

“You sure you don’t mind babysitting me? I’d hate to interrupt.” I looked at Meagan and held out my hand to him.

He took it. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been such a—”

“Your hair?” Meagan asked in surprise when her adoring horde had subsided.

“A wig,” I pointed to the foam head on the windowsill.

“It’s a good one; I didn’t know.” For someone who had seen this before, Meagan was edgy and twitchy. She stood awkwardly at the end of my bed and avoided looking at the IV tubes sprouting from my chest. The whole benefit of her friendship was supposed to be that she’d been through this before, yet she was the visitor who made me feel the most uncomfortable.

I tried small talk. “I can’t believe Business Nurse hugged you. I’ve never even gotten a smile out of her.”

“Who?” Meagan stared blankly at the wall above my head.

“Denise,” Gyver translated.

“Oh,” was her insightful response.

“Where are your parents?” Gyver asked.

“Probably at dinner.”

Meagan surveyed the room, her gaze lingering on the door. She was twisting her hands in her lap, miming the process of lathering.

“I’ll try and refrain from kidnapping you while they’re gone.” Gyver smiled and I felt some of my chaos dissolve.

“We’d have plenty of time to make a getaway. They’re staying home tonight.”

“They’re not staying with you?” Meagan was appalled.

“Mom doesn’t sleep well, then I don’t sleep. And she had a major meltdown today.” Gyver met my eyes with a knowing gaze and squeezed my knee through the blanket. I opened my mouth to confess the awful things I’d said—

“What about your dad?”

“He snores,” Gyver and I answered simultaneously.

Meagan shook her head and began to twist her hands again. “I can’t believe you want to be alone here.”

“I’m never alone. Don’t you remember? There’s someone coming in every ten minutes.” I laughed, but she didn’t. I looked to Gyver, but he was also watching Meagan, concern cutting into the line of his jaw.

She chewed her lip, then said in a rush, “I’m sorry, Mia. I can’t do this. I can’t be here.” Meagan was out the door before I could respond.

“What was that about?” I asked Gyver. A part of me, a small, guilty part, was glad to have him to myself.

Gyver tipped his head toward me, his eyebrows converging in a frown. “It’s probably too familiar. Bad memories.”

“Her brother.” Realization began to gnaw at my insides. “You said Max had leukemia and I didn’t need to worry. Did he …” I swallowed the last word.

“Yeah. He died.”

“But you said …” I gagged on my guilt, shame, and blame. Terror.

“Mi, how could I tell you? It was a different kind. A worse kind. He had transplants. Radiation.” Gyver’s eyes and voice were desperate, but I was too furious to care.

“You lied to me!”

“I didn’t want you reading into it. I was trying to protect you.”

“You can’t. No one can!” I dropped from a yell to a whisper. “You lied to me?
You
?”

“Mi, please understand.” Gyver stood and swore. His conflict was clear, but he shook it off his face. “I’ve got to go. I drove.”

I nodded, face blank. Inside I was collapsing.

“Say something,” he begged.

I couldn’t.

He sighed. “We need to talk, but Meagan lives across the lake; I can’t get back before visiting hours end. I’ll come first thing tomorrow.”

He was leaving me. Alone. With my emotions from earlier. Adding a new layer of grief and fear.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, Mi.” He bent to kiss my cheek. Impulsively, I turned so his lips brushed mine: stealing a little more of him before he went after Meagan. Maybe I thought he’d stay. Maybe I needed him to.

He didn’t.

He just swore softly, touched my hand, and left.

I was shattering. Or being crushed. My last bit of strength was cracking and my lungs wouldn’t cooperate. He’d left.

And I had no one left.

I was alone with nothing to do but stare at the vacant space where my horseshoe should be hanging and try to breathe despite the pressure that threatened to shred my heart and lungs. There were too many empty hours until morning and too many problems to face when it came.

I jammed the call button, and Mark stuck his head through my door. “How’s my favorite patient?”

“Sleep meds. Can I have some?” The words quivered. My lower lip did too.

“It’s only seven thirty—what’s going on?” Mark disconnected the empty bag from my pole. He put a stopper in the line.

“I’m ruining everything I touch today!” This was a melodramatic Mom comment. I took a shaky breath and tried again. “I’m in a toxic mood and I started fights with everyone.”

Mark picked up my phone from the bedside table. “So? You’re a big girl. Call and apologize.”

I drew my knees up and hugged them. “These are bigger than over-the-phone I’m sorrys.”

“And?” Mark shrugged.

“But …” I searched for another excuse and tried to take a full breath. “Visiting hours are almost over.”

Mark grinned. “Nice try, but I’ll make an exception.” He placed the phone in my hand and curled my fingers around it. “Call. Fix your fights and you’ll sleep like a baby.”

I nodded somberly and Mark patted my arm and left my room. I stared at the screen, blurred by tears that refused to stay out of my eyes. I’d made it clear to Gyver and he’d made a choice. He didn’t choose me.

A shaky exhale became a sob and I dialed.

“Hey, you. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry.” I garbled the words.

“Is this a yes?”

If this was that important to him—if
I
was that important to him, then he deserved a chance. A real one. “Yes. Will you come?”

“Yeah, sure. But I’m, like, twenty minutes away. Will they let me in after eight?”

My eyes flooded and my throat tightened. I didn’t deserve this guy who’d drop everything because I wanted him to hold my hand. “Yes,” I whispered as the tears spilled onto my cheeks.

“Don’t cry.” Ryan sounded sympathetic, not triumphant. “Want me to stay on the phone?”

I shook my head, tears choking my breath. “No. I’m okay.”

“All right. Soon.”

Southern Nurse might have been waiting outside the door for me to say good-bye, or she might have uncanny timing, but she came in to check on me as I shut off the phone and surrendered to my desperation and tears.

“Mark said you were out of sorts. What’s the matter, darlin’?”

I didn’t answer, just sobbed. Panic was clawing me inside out with uncertainty. I sat up on my bed and broke: tears washing down my chin and over my knees. I couldn’t find words or air.

“Breathe.” Southern Nurse rubbed my back.

I tried to. Tried to make my lungs inhale and exhale with any sort of rhythm. To banish the dizzy spots forming in the corners of my vision. When I managed a half breath, Southern Nurse—no, I couldn’t call her that anymore. I checked her name tag. When I managed a half breath, Polly said, “Good, that’s better. Now you need to get some rest. We should call your parents.”

“Please don’t call my mom. I can’t. I can’t handle her tonight. We had a fight and she’ll be a mess and I’ll have to pull it together and reassure her. I just—I just can’t. Ryan’s coming.”

Polly’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I heard about this afternoon. Cancer’s hard on everyone, darlin’; sometimes you need a little space. I won’t call if you agree to this: when he gets here, you hug him tight, then you get some sleep. Your job right now is getting better. Nothing’s more important than that.”

I nodded, but didn’t release her hand when she stood. She sat back down. “I’ll wait with you until Ryan comes. It’s all right. Sometimes you just need a good cry. You’ve been brave for so long, it’s about time you cracked. Let it out.”

When Ryan arrived my face was splotchy and tear stained; the shoulder of Polly’s scrubs was damp and rumpled. After he’d stopped at the sink to scrub his hands, she turned me over
to him, saying, “She’s had quite the day. Try and get her to calm down.”

Ryan climbed up beside me. “Mia?” My name was a question and the next move was mine to make. I fit myself into the
U
of his arm, buried my face in his chest, and spilled sobs and confessions in tangled gasps.

“I’m so tired of this, Ryan. All of it. I’m tired of fighting so hard to be healthy and trying to look brave. I’m not brave. I’m scared. Meagan’s brother, Max, died. What if that’s me? I don’t know how to do this anymore. It’s too hard. I’m so scared.”

“Shh, baby, shh. It’s okay.” His arm around my shoulders tightened.

Polly came in with a sedative and I obediently sipped, swallowed, and blew my nose in the tissue she held out like I was a toddler. “Enough of that for today. Rest now. I’ll be back to check on you.”

“Rest,” I echoed, already impatient for the sedative to fuzz my vision and words. But before they did, there were things I needed to say, gratitude I needed to express. He was trying so hard and being so much more than I ever imagined. I needed to give him credit, but lacked the words to say it right. “Ryan, I’m sorry about earlier. Thanks for coming. I really needed you.”

“All you had to do was ask.” He touched his forehead to mine and shut his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.

“I’m here. Right here.” It became a mantra. Ryan whispered it to me as he rubbed my back. I stopped fighting the sleeping pill and surrendered to its escape.

Chapter 35

My temperature was edging above 103 when the nurses took it before seven the next morning. They hesitated a moment, eyes flickering to Ryan as he blinked himself alert. He wasn’t used to waking up to an audience.

“He stays,” I rasped. His presence meant yesterday’s damages hadn’t been part of my horrible fever dreams. Max had died; Hil had yelled; Gyver had left. Everything was blurry and surreal. I hiccupped.