It was five in the morning when Ro called a taxi to take her back to River Remez. Ben walked out and waited with her by the curb. Sunrise was coming—a new day filled with a new hope. And after three years of the chase, perhaps it was in the cards to finally see a little light.
“Sorry about your car.”
“It’s collateral damage,” Ro said. “You’re not going to come to graduation, are you.”
“Nope. Looks like my parents will have to wait for Haley.”
“What about your speech?”
“You can talk in my place. People would much rather look at you than at me.”
“They want to see you.”
“They want to see a freak.”
“More like a hero.”
“You’re way more of a hero than I am.”
“So from one hero to another . . .” She wiped away tears. “Come to graduation. If you won’t do that, at least come to grad night. Allow yourself one teeny bit of high school. It won’t change anything. But just maybe it’ll make you feel a little better to be, like . . . normal.”
“‘Normal’ is not on my vocab list. Besides, I can barely move, let alone party.”
“We’ll rent a wheelchair.”
Ben kissed her softly on the lips. “Have fun, honey. Really. You deserve it.”
Her cheeks were wet. “It’s so ironic. I’ve always been such an attention hog. Now that everyone’s gonna be focused on me, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”
“You have to handle it,” Ben told her. “Someone has to be the socially adroit one.” They both saw the cab coming down the street. “You’d better have fun, Dorothy. That’s an order. I’ll want to hear every detail about graduation and grad night, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I mean it. Who got stoned, who got arrested, who got drunk and puked on himself, and most important, who banged whom.”
“Well . . . that just about sums up high school.” She dried her eyes. They kissed again and then she slipped into the cab, disappearing from sight.
Slowly and painfully, he made his way inside to the waiting room.
Everything he had done—all that research and running around and all the promises and hours and toil and sweat and even getting knifed—he had told himself that he was doing it for Ellen. But truthfully, he’d been doing it for himself. If he ever wanted to look in the mirror without flinching, he couldn’t let that bastard win. And now that Barnes was caught, and Ben had won, he was floundering, more than a little lost. Superfluous to everyone except maybe Lilly. And Ben needed her way, way more than she had ever needed him.
He had fallen asleep in a chair and woke up with a start around two hours later. It was a little before eight in the morning and he stank. Feeling like shit, he went into the men’s room and washed his face and arms and scrubbed his hair with liquid hand soap. The water was pinkish as it flowed down the drain. He stuck his head under the hand dryer and shook out his hair like a wet dog. Then he bought coffee and muffins for the Tafoyas.
Since he wasn’t allowed into the ICU, he left the goodies at the nurses’ station. The nurse on duty said she’d tell George that he dropped by and that he was still here. Ben was convinced that George would never get the message, but an hour later he showed up. “Go home.”
“I’ve got an appointment. They’re gonna change my bandages. What’s going on?”
“She’s still heavily sedated. But . . .” A deep exhale. “She’s improving. Her blood pressure is coming up.” He paused. “We’re trying to keep it real—no false hopes—but I’m . . . I’m optimistic.” George shook his head. “You’re not going to leave until you see her.”
“I’m a mule, George. You should know that by now.”
“Okay, Ben, this is the deal. If I let you see her, will you leave?”
“After they change my bandages, yes.”
“And you’ll go home to River Remez.”
“Actually, I’m going to stay with my grandparents. It’s closer and I’ve been living there anyway. They’re just waiting for me to call so they can pick me up.”
“Great. Stay there. Recuperate. Take care of yourself and let us take care of Lilly. That’s the deal.”
“I promise I’ll leave and rest up for a while. But I know myself. I’m gonna come back. I think my grandparents got me a tablet for a graduation present. I’ll bring it with me. It’ll keep me busy for hours.”
“You don’t need to be here, Ben. You need to take care of yourself.” Ben didn’t answer and George dry-washed his face. “I’m talking to a wall.”
“Yes, you are.”
“There can’t be more than two people in the ICU. June won’t leave. That’s a given. I suppose I could use a few minutes to take a piss and just organize my scrambled brain. I want to check in with work and get that out of the way. I’ll see if June will allow you to visit.”
“Is she mad at me?”
“No.” George was taken aback. “Why on earth would she be mad at you?”
“I left them alone in the house, George. I shouldn’t have gone to graduation rehearsal—”
George cut him off. “No one’s mad. You’re family. Don’t be stupid. Wait here while I ask June if it’s okay.”
As soon as he left, Ben closed his eyes, but the images were too awful and too bloody. Instead he stared at nothing. George returned around a half hour later. “June says okay, but just for a few minutes.” A pause. “Ben, she’s doing better but she looks bad. You’ve got to steel yourself, for June’s sake. Keep it up-tempo.”
“Got it.”
George had taken ten steps before Ben managed to stand up. He turned around and saw Ben struggling. “Sorry.” He came back. “Lean on me.”
“I’m okay. I just move slowly.”
Together they crept over to the ICU. Ben was in a lot of pain but it felt right. He wasn’t supposed to be okay while Lilly was not okay. The nurse had him gown up and cover his feet and head. The ICU room was glassed in. Ben could see a body on the bed with tubes running in and out all over the place. Machines were beeping and chiming. The beat of his heart only added to the rhythm. He went inside.
June was sitting next to Lilly, her delicate fingers wrapped around her daughter’s limp hand. She had looked up when Ben came in, but then her eyes went back at Lilly’s face. She was a small woman to begin with, but the psychic pain had somehow made her diminutive. There was an empty chair—George’s seat—and Ben took it.
Lilly had tubes in her nose and mouth and an oxygen mask over her face. Her neck was completely wrapped in white bandages and gauze. Her left hand was on a board attached to the bed railing and there were needles in her arm and wrist and a couple of IVs dripping clear liquid. Her complexion was gray, as if all the life force had been sucked out of her.
Keep it positive, Vicksburg. But keep it real.
He had wanted to tell her that everything would be all right, that she would be fine and things would go back to the way they were. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, healthy and rosy and full of spit and fire. He had wanted to tell her all of that. But it wasn’t true, and deep inside Lilly would know it wasn’t true. She always had a great bullshit detector.
“Can I talk to her?” he whispered to June.
She turned, her eyes reaching deep within his soul. “A few minutes.”