great?”
“I know he meant a lot to you. As much as I hate it.”
I hold him tighter, my gaze still plastered to his. “He doesn’t mean as much as you. You know that, don’t you?”
He smiles. “Well, I was starting to wonder.”
My own smile fades as I imagine the unimaginable. “I don’t know what I would do if it was you, lying in that hospital bed. I wouldn’t be standing. I wouldn’t be functioning. I would crumble.”
He crushes me into his arms, stealing my breath away.
A week passes, and the mother bear still hasn’t found her cub. The anxiety is still there but has faded a little. I still think about him every hour of the day. I think about Bridget too, and his children. Please, I beg God. Please, let him live. Not for me, but for them. I don’t think I’ve ever prayed to God as much as I have in these past few days.
I try to go on with my life as best as I can, awaiting the end of the story, the happy ending. I still believe in a happy ending. I’m not willing to give up on him. Gabe hasn’t managed to get too much information from Bridget. There have been no new developments. He says Bridget seems to be holding up, sounding unemotional, almost business-like on the phone.
She must be stronger than I am. If it were me, I would be falling apart.
We’ve all been thinking about him. Chloe and Claire ask me daily if he’s getting better. My heart sinks every time I have to tell them I don’t know. Claire even made him a ‘get well’ drawing.
I carefully pin it on our refrigerator door with a colorful cat magnet. My eyes well up as I take in the details of it. It’s so sweet. I can tell she put a lot of effort into it.
Weston sits up in a hospital bed. His black scribbled head is way too large for his body and his legs are much too small. The big curved line on his face marks his happiness as he holds a bouquet of colorful balloons. And there’s Claire standing beside him, her hair in a high ponytail. She wears the same smile, and holds purple flowers. And Tokyo the giraffe is there too, tucked in the corner. And I stand on the other side of the bed, wearing a Peter Pan collared blouse and a huge smile. And my smile is the biggest of all — not just a curved line, but a full row of teeth, gap and all.
I sigh every time I walk past it. I would really love to be able to give it to him.
I just want him to wake up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
…granny panties and all.
The girls and I are working on Halloween costumes. Chloe is a tiger, not a cat. Evidently, the distinction is very important. And Claire is a fairy, but not Tinkerbell because Tinker is green, and she’s purple. The day is unusually warm and I’m thrilled we’ll be able to trick or treat without heavy jackets covering our costumes. I’m wearing my Snow White dress again. It’s my signature costume. Every year, I pin my hair into a bob and slip in a red silk hair band. I like to twirl into my classroom. The kids eat it up. Apparently, I look exactly like the critter-loving singing princess.
I trail behind the girls as we make our way from house to house. We chat with the neighbors a little as they fill the girls’ pillowcases with sugar filled treats. Gabe is hanging back at the house, handing out candy. Every year, he wears this terrifying mask which I beg him not to wear. And then he wonders why we don’t get many kids.
When we finally get home, the sun has set and the sky is dark.
Gabe shoots the girls a smile. “How did you do, kitty cat?”
Chloe frowns. “I told you, I’m a tiger.”
Claire holds up her bag high. “Look at all this,” she squeals as she runs into the living room with her shoes on. She dumps her loot on the floor.
Gabe seems edgy when he turns to me. “I’ve got news.”
I stare at him, slack-jawed. “What?”
“Bridget called while you were out. Weston’s awake.”
My whole body seems to lift but I don’t like his expression. There’s something more to it. “How is he?” I blurt out, not speaking fast enough. “Is he fine? Is he…”
Gabe bites his lip. “Yes, he’s fine. He’s just