“How is she?” Mrs. Harris asked, coming to stand behind Kenzie.
“She’s in with the doctor and the psychiatrist. She woke up just a little while ago and seems upset, but okay.” I let out a large sigh. “They strapped her wrists to the bed.”
“Oh, Hayes,” Mrs. Harris said, her words dripping with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
I shook her words off, stepped back, pulling my hands from McKenzie’s and running them through my hair.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I was just going to get some coffee.”
“I’ll come with you,” Kenzie said, stepping closer to me again.
“No.” I shook my head, looking down at the floor. “No, you and your mom should go home. My mom is fine medically. But I don’t think she’s up for visitors, and she’s talking to the shrink right now. You guys should go home and get some sleep.” I steeled myself for her touch when her hands gripped my t-shirt, effectively pulling me into her.
“Hayes,” she said softly, “I don’t want to go home. I want to be here, with you, to help.”
Without touching her I raised my eyes to meet her gaze. “There’s nothing for anyone to do. It’s probably going to be a long day. You guys should go home.”
Mrs. Harris stepped up behind McKenzie and put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s give them some time, sweetie.”
McKenzie looked hurt and confused, and it took everything in me not to reach out, pull her close, and tell her all the manic thoughts running through my mind. I wanted to explain to her why I was pushing her away, but I knew it would just make her cling to me tighter. This was better. For everyone.
“Tell your mom I love her, and that I’ll be waiting to hear from her when she’s ready.”
I nodded at Mrs. Harris, and watched as she steered McKenzie out the door. They left and I let out a sigh. It was going to be a long day.
Forty-five minutes later when I peeked my head into my mother’s room, I saw her lying on her side, hands tucked up underneath her head. Relief coursed through me knowing they’d let her out of her bindings.
“Hey,” I whispered as I stepped into the room. Her eyes opened and she gave me a sad and weak smile.
“Hey, honey.”
“How’d it go?”
“They decided I wasn’t a threat to myself or anyone else. I’m being moved out of ICU soon. But I have to stay one more night for observation.”
I walked around her bed and sat in the chair just next to her. I leaned forward, exhausted, and rested my elbows on my knees, bringing my chin to rest on my clasped hands.
“Mom?” I finally said.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Will you tell me what happened?”
She held my gaze for a few moments before she eventually looked away. I didn’t know what was going to come next, if she was going to tell me or push it away. It felt as though we were in limbo, unable to go anywhere from there, unable to move forward unless something changed.
“Before I explain everything, I want you to know that I never wanted to die.” Her words were strong and clear. In fact, they were the strongest words I’d heard her speak since we lost Cory and Dad. The strength in her voice surprised me, made me sit up straight, made every sleepy part of me wake up and listen. “It’s been difficult, Hayes. I hope you never feel the kind of loss I’ve been wading through. Every day I feel guilty for checking out on you, but I couldn’t find a way past the grief.” She took in a deep breath, and then continued. “I was feeling a little better, trying to move through my days without getting lost in the sadness, but then Cory’s acceptance letter came and it was another setback. Another part of his life he’ll never get to live because of the actions of one person. It’s not fair.” Her voice, although still strong and loud, cracked at that point, and I fought the urge to go to her, to hold her close and tell her I didn’t need to hear anything else, if only to spare her the pain of explaining it to me.
“With the wave of grief came more nightmares, and Hayes, I promise you, I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep without images of Cory bleeding on the floor of a convenience store, or picturing the fear in his eyes before he was shot, or imaging what he’d look like on his wedding day, what his children would look like. I wanted one night where I could sleep in peace.”
A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away, seemingly determined to continue. I didn’t dare interrupt her.