Page 102 of Never Have I Ever

“Love you,” my mom says after the others have walked away. “You know where to find me.”

“Love you, Mom.” Careful not to shoulder the door open like I usually would, I use the handle as intended and slip into the dark room. My eyes are quick to adjust to the low light extended by a lamp in the corner. I prefer less light existing in the space. It’s more comforting than bright fluorescent lights overhead.

Poppy’s sleeping, curled on her side. I don’t mind. It gives me a minute to do my own investigation of her injuries. Looks like all the pieces are in the right spot. Standing next to her, I sweep a few strands of hair back from her face, revealing a splattering of small cuts that look like they’re already healing.

I have the same. We’re lucky the shattered windshield didn’t do more damage to either of us. I’m still pissed at the airbags, though. It caused a fractured rib and a shoulder that needed to be popped back into place. I don’t have the rundown on Poppy’s wounds and injuries, but I’m glad she looks like she’s doing well.

A gentle tap on the door is followed by someone opening it. A nurse pokes her head in, her eyes dashing from Poppy to me standing on the other side of the bed. “Hello, is this a good time?”

“Come in.”

She moves to the machine and begins recording information on an e-pad. “Her heart rate is good, the beat steady and strong.” Glancing over at me, she adds, “She’s a fighter.”

“She is.” When she turns down the volume, I say, “I like hearing her heartbeat. Comfort is found in the rhythm of it.”

“I like that.” She moves to fill a cup of water from a pink plastic pitcher on that side of the bed. “I hear you’re a musician.”

“I play guitar.”

“Lead or bass?”

“You know your guitars.”

Delicate fingers reach for me. I slip my hand into Poppy’s and then cover it with my other because it feels so cold. Poppy whispers, “And I know yours.”

I smile, seeing her eyes open as much as they can. The swelling will go down, and the black eye will eventually disappear. “What do you know about my guitars, baby?”

“I know they look like your first acoustic and electric guitars.”

“That’s right.” She remembers from our night in Austin when we talked about so much that we left out a few important details. We crossed every line we could find, and wound up falling in love. No one would have predicted it, but it’s all true.

The volume returns to its previous level, and the nurse says, “Water is in the cup, and if you need anything, there’s a call button on the remote tucked right on the side of the mattress.”

As the nurse makes her way to the door, Poppy asks, “How do I find out if I have any messages or missed calls?”

The nurse’s head tilts as if the question was asked in a foreign language. “No, that’s not how it works. The calls are sent directly to your room.” She points at a table on the other side of the bed. “If someone calls, it’s for you.”

Opening the door, she asks, “Anything else?”

“No.” The devastation is heard in Poppy’s tone, but she keeps her chin held high. It’s not the first time, and I would be willing to wager it won’t be the last. Her parents were the shitty cards she was dealt. “Thank you,” Poppy replies just before the door shuts, and then she lies on her back, closing her eyes.

I get the cup of water and go to her side to help her sit up to drink. “I love you.”

She cracks a small smile, but it fumbles and is gone before it leaves any impact. “I know. I love you, too. I just . . .” She looks toward the lamp, but there are no tears despite the quiver heard in her voice. “It would be nice to have a mom who cared.”

Nothing I can say will make this better or fix it. Normally, I’d fill the void her parents have left by distracting her with something fun or delicious. Letting her run the gamut of her emotions this time is best.

It’s not long before she’s smothering her feelings and looking around for entertainment. As if we’d been in the middle of a conversation already, Poppy says, “Riddle me this, I held you as you came close to death, but I’m the one stuck in the hospital bed for ‘observation.’ Does this seem fair to you?” She takes another sip.

Chuckling, I bend down and kiss her head and then her lips, staying there, tasting her again. Like fresh air in my lungs, I feel alive with her. “I may have looked like death, but I wasn’t knocking on death’s door.” I tuck my knuckle under her chin just so I can flagrantly admire her. “Honest truth, I wouldn’t have made it without you, baby. That’s quite the shiner you got there.”

I can tell myself there’s no permanent damage. I know that’s another lie I’m hoping to fall for one day. My shoulders curve over, and the realization that nothing is guaranteed sets in. It’s a lesson she learned a long time ago. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice low to fit the early morning hour. “I’m so sorry for betraying you. I thought what I was doing was for you. My good intentions made things worse.” I slide my gaze to the machine where I won’t have to see the disappointment or pain I’ve caused her.

With her hand still held in mine, she says, “Come closer, babe.” I inch left and lean down, but she adds, “In bed with me.”

“Can we do that?”

“Wow, you used to be so spontaneous. Be wild with me again, Laird.”

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