Chapter 4 - Permission —
At eleven that morning, Claire called again.
“Emma’s being evaluated,” she said. “She agreed I could tell you that.”
“Can I come?”
“You can wait downstairs. That doesn’t mean she’ll see you.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
The question landed harder than an accusation.
I drove back to the hospital.
Claire found me beside a vending machine, still wearing the clothes I’d put on Christmas Eve. She carried a paper cup and looked like she hadn’t slept.
“How is she?”
“They’re keeping an eye on her.”
“The baby?”
“She’s being monitored, too.”
I pressed both palms against my eyes.
Claire let me stand there a moment.
Then she said, “Emma wants her blue bag. The one in the hall closet. Her charger’s on the nightstand.”
“I’ll get them.”
“And her slippers.”
I nodded.
“Anything else?”
“She wants you to stop calling every five minutes.”
My face burned.
“I was afraid.”
“So was she.”
There was no answer to that.
When I returned with the bag, Claire was waiting near the elevators.
“Can I at least give it to her?”
“She said five minutes.”
Emma lay against raised pillows in a room that was too bright. A monitor made soft, steady sounds beside her.
She looked smaller than she had beside our tree.
Not weaker.
Just exhausted in a way I had failed to notice while living beside her.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
I set the bag down.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her eyes moved toward the window.
“I heard your voicemail.”
“That must have been upsetting.”
I deserved the distance in her voice. Knowing that didn’t make it easier to stand in it.
“I should have answered.”
“Yes.”
“I thought when you told me to go—”
She looked back at me.
“You thought I gave you permission.”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
“I wanted you to want to stay.”
“Emma—”
“But I understand that’s not something I can demand.”
“You could have told me how bad it was.”
The words escaped before I could stop them.
She closed her eyes.
When she opened them, whatever small warmth had been there was gone.
“I asked you to come home,” she said.
“I know.”
“No. You know now.”
A nurse knocked softly and stepped inside. Emma turned toward her with visible relief.
My five minutes were over.
At the door, Emma called my name.
May you like
For one foolish second, I thought she might ask me to stay.
Instead, she said, “When they discharge me, I’m not coming home with you.”
