The Summer I Learned to Dive - By Shannon McCrimmon Page 0,58

the gaps, writing what I could. She stared blankly into space. I had never seen her like this. She was so uncertain, so afraid.

My mother walked into the waiting room and sat near us in silence. I continued to complete the paperwork. It was the only thing I could do. I felt so useless. I wanted to do more, but didn’t know what I could do to help. My mother asked us if we wanted something to drink or eat. Nana shook her head no. My mother left the room and we were alone, just the two of us.

Nana put her arm around me and hugged me. “Don’t worry, Finn. He’s going to be alright,” she said more to herself than to me.

“He’s strong, Nana,” I said hoping it would offer some comfort.

“He has been through a lot in his life. He can survive this,” she said trying to smile. A doctor walked into the waiting room. Nana instantly looked up at her.

“Mrs. Hemmings?” she asked.

“Yes,” Nana said. We both stood up.

“Your husband is stable. He had a massive heart attack and has had some damage to his heart, but he will pull through. You can come back and see him,” she said. Nana looked at me and I started following her. “Oh, I’m sorry, only one person at a time until he is more stable,” the doctor said. I sat back down. Nana looked at me almost apologizing and followed the doctor toward the Intensive Care Unit.

I felt relieved. He was going to be alright. I breathed a sigh of relief. I pulled out my phone and texted Jesse. I couldn’t talk to him. I was too afraid I would have cried the entire time we spoke on the phone. My mother walked in the waiting room carrying two bottles of Coke, a bag of pretzels and a pack of gum. She handed me a bottle. I looked up at her and thanked her with my eyes. It was a small gesture on her part. She was trying to make amends.

I opened the lid and gulped down the Coke. I was thirsty. The night had worn me out physically and mentally. My phone buzzed. Jesse sent me a text message. “Be there soon,” he wrote. My heart immediately warmed. At that moment, I knew it was no longer a question—I was in love with him.

We sat in silence, my mom and I. I wasn’t ready to hear her out and she knew well enough to not bring up the subject. Too much had happened and talking about it in the middle of the waiting room was not the ideal time or place.

Jesse must have sped the entire ride to the hospital. He arrived within twenty minutes. The moment I saw him, I felt less anxious, more at peace. “How is he?” he asked out of breath. I could tell he had run from the parking lot into the waiting room.

“He’s stable. Jesse, this is my mom,” I said.

He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said. She looked at him approvingly.

“You, too, Jesse,” she said, her eyebrows raised as she looked at me curiously.

“What’d the doctor say?” he asked.

“She said that he was going to make it. I’m so relieved,” I said, my eyes began to water and the tears fell. He gently squeezed my hand, offering support. I squeezed his hand in return. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother appraising us, her eyes focused on our hands.

Nana came into the waiting room. She was tired. She smiled at Jesse. “That was good of you to come, Jesse,” she said her hand gently patting his cheek. “Well,” she said breathing heavily. “He’s going to be fine. Finn, you can go back and see him.” I looked at her unsure. “Go on back,” she said gesturing. “He wants to see you.”

I walked into the Intensive Care Unit apprehensively. For someone who wanted to be a doctor, the smell of the hospital made me ill, the sight of sick people made me feel nervous. I wanted to get out of that place, immediately. My grandfather had tubes running through his body. He looked so fragile, so pale, and so different than the strong man I had grown to love. It tugged at my heart to see him in this condition. I had to contain myself. Crying was not an option.

“Hi Grandpa,” I said quietly. He lay on the bed, his eyes were barely open. He