Out of the Shallows(73)

“She’ll come out of this, Charley. Andie’s strong. She’s a Redford.”

Biting my lip to stem the tears, I shrugged loosely. “We’ll see.”

“You’ve got to stay positive.”

“I know.”

“Charley? Charley, look at me.”

I did as he asked, turning my head back to the screen.

His expression was tender. “I can come back. If you need me, I can come home.”

“No,” I said adamantly, my pulse racing just at the thought. “You have to finish up there. I… I’m better on my own,” I said honestly. “I feel like I don’t have to worry so much about worrying everyone else when I’m on my own.”

“I get it,” he said and I knew that he did. “You’re not completely alone, though, right? Your mom and dad and Rick are there.”

“Yeah, but… I guess we’re all dealing with it differently.” I didn’t even want to think about how much this had broken my parents. My parents had always been larger-than-life characters who could deal with anything life threw their way. But this… they seemed older, more fragile, and every time they looked upon Andie in that hospital bed, I could see another crack form in the armor they’d worn their whole lives.

That scared me just as much as the sight of my sister in a coma.

“I better get back,” I whispered, my throat constricting.

“Okay, baby,” he said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I hung up and stuffed the phone in my pocket.

Okay, baby. I love you.

I love you too.

But I hate you too. I hate me too.

Trembling, I sucked in a huge gulp of air and tried to calm myself. After a minute or so, I felt a little more together and walked back into the hospital.

I’d barely left my sister’s side. The only time I did leave the hospital was to go back to Rick and Andie’s for a shower. My parents tried to get some sleep there, but I just couldn’t sit in that house. It was filled with Andie. Her pictures, her perfume, her things, her work, her clothes, and the funny refrigerator magnets she collected.

I’d gone into the kitchen to get some orange juice and I’d stopped at the sight of the magnets. In the middle was the black and white one I’d found during my sophomore year at Purdue. When we were younger, my sister was obsessed with pirates. I’d never forgotten the many times I found myself sitting on a sofa cushion in the middle of my parents’ living room floor with my hands bound behind my back while my sister stood triumphant on the arm of the sofa, a patch over her eye. With that, she’d command her invisible crew to haul anchor and her ship (the sofa) would sail off, leaving me to die on deserted island (the cushion) for betraying her to the navy.

The black and white fridge magnet had the words “To Err is Human, to Arr is Pirate” printed over a skull and crossbones. When I’d given it to Andie, she’d laughed so hard, she cried.

At the sight of the magnet, I collapsed.

My mom found me and held me while I let it all out.

I’d refused to stay in that house for any longer than the length of a shower since.

Returning to the hospital room with coffee and sandwiches for both me and Rick, I found him sitting close to Andie, holding her hand in both of his. When he heard me come in, he ducked his head and swiped at the tears I knew he hoped I hadn’t seen.

Placing the coffee and sandwich down beside him, I didn’t offer him comfort or bring up his grief, because I think he needed to feel strong in all this. Rick wasn’t a stupid guy—he could see my parents were barely holding it together and I knew he felt some obligation to be strong for us all. It was no use attempting to convince him otherwise. It was just the person he was.

I sat back in my chair and sipped at my coffee.

“You better open that sandwich,” Rick said softly.

He started to eat his slowly and I felt a pang in my stomach.