“Again?” he asks, lifting my shirt. Jordyn gasps when she sees the eggplant-colored bruising that covers pretty much the entire left side of my rib cage.
Damon carefully presses against the bruising and then shakes his head. “I have to get Dr. Meyer in here. This is the third time. I’m starting to worry.”
As soon as he’s out the door, Jordyn, who looks horrified, gently sits on the bed again.
I reach up to brush her hair back. “It’s probably nothing,” I say. But I’m scared shitless.
THIRTY-FOUR
It seems like a year before Dr. Meyer finally strolls into the room. I hate that she looks so nice, that she doesn’t act how she looks.
She pokes and prods much harder than Damon and I want to die from the pain. I’m trying to hold my shit together because Jordyn is in the corner seriously losing hers and I can’t stand it.
I’m pretty sure Dr. Meyer likes to speak medical jargon so I won’t know what the hell’s going on. I wish she’d just hurry it up.
“It’s not a big deal,” Damon explains after she leaves. “Dr. Meyer just wants to run a few tests to make sure everything’s healing as it should be.”
“I’m going to need surgery, aren’t I? They’re going to have to take out my spleen, aren’t they?”
“Probably not, but we just need to be absolutely sure. It’s not a big deal even if we do.” He says the last part to Jordyn, who’s now shaking, she’s crying so hard. I wish I could hug her as much for my sake as for hers, but even the thought makes me wince.
“If I need surgery . . . ?”
“One of your guardians will be able to sign off on it,” he says. It’s awesome how he’s able to anticipate my worries like that. He’s really good at his job.
Another nurse comes in, and she and Damon work together to unplug and unhook things so that I’m mobile. Then they wheel me out of the room and Jordyn’s left there in that sad little mauve chair, alone. As they push me down the hallway, Damon assures me that he’ll go back to check on her just as soon as I’m situated.
It’s dark when I wake up back in my hospital room. Damon’s shift is long over, so I’m shocked to see him sitting with Jordyn.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Enh” is all I can manage. He explains that something started bleeding again and they thought they might need to take out my spleen, but it turns out they just had to cauterize a pesky blood vessel. It required a “non-invasive” procedure. Non-invasive my ass. They still had to cut into me in a bunch of places and stick a camera and some tools in my side. That seems pretty damn invasive to me.
I’m still kind of out of it, but I can’t feel anything. So in that way I’m doing pretty damn good.
“Visiting hours are technically over, but . . .” He shrugs.
I try to say thank you but it comes out as an incoherent drool/moan.
“You have twenty minutes, sweetie,” he tells Jordyn as he leaves the room.
She nods. The top of her green shirt is wet, but she’s not crying now. Somehow I manage a small nod, gesturing for her to come over.
She does.
I lift the side of my blankets and she climbs in, resting her head on the good side of my chest. My eyes are seriously heavy. I stroke the top of her arm and breathe in her jasmine shampoo and drift off to sleep.
? ? ?
Jordyn’s gone when I wake up and part of me is missing. That’s what it feels like.
Damon comes in carrying an IV bag. “Sleep well?”
It’s only then that I realize it’s morning.
I nod. “So, when can I get out of here? Not that I’m not enjoying your company.”
“That’s good, ’cause you’ll have it for a few more days.”
The door creaks and I expect Jordyn, but it’s Kelly and Henry. Damon greets them as he squeezes by on his way out.
“How are you doing?” Kelly sits in the chair next to my bed.
“I’m ready to get out of here. I’ll never be able to pay for all of this.”
“It’s all taken care of.” Henry stands behind Kelly, placing his hands on the chair back.
“You can’t— You really don’t have to do all this, you know,” I say, my voice cracking. My eyes sting. I have to close them.
“We know.” Kelly rests her hand on my shoulder. “We want to.” She reaches up for Henry’s hand.
“You should have told us how bad things were before it got so outta hand, Tyler,” Henry says to me. “We would’ve gladly gotten you the hell out of there.”
I stare out the window, not seeing anything in particular. I can’t look at them.
And then Jordyn comes in carrying a camera? She can’t be serious. Though I am glad for the interruption—things were getting a little real there.
“What? Not feeling like your beautiful self today?” She holds it up. “Smile.”
“All right.” Henry reaches out and Jordyn hands the camera over. He holds it up like he’s giving a toast. “Better run. Can’t keep the Bryson wedding waiting. Don’t worry about anything but healing, kiddo, understand?”
I nod because there are no words.