Page 40 of The Double Play

“How can I help you?” a woman wearing turquoise scrubs asks with a flat expression.

“My mom, Lydia James, came in an ambulance not long ago. I need to find her room.”

“I need your I.D.”

My wallet drops to the floor when I pull it out. I pick it up with trembling fingers and struggle to get my license out. I settle on handing her my whole wallet. Her pencil-thin brow raises, but she accepts it. Black cherry fingernails click on her keyboard before she returns my wallet, then passes me a visitor sticker.

“Go up to the sixth floor. Let the nurses’ station know you’re there, and they’ll tell you whether you can see the patient or if you need to wait in the waiting room.”

I put the sticker on the center of my overalls. “Sixth floor, nurses’ station. Okay, thank you.”

She goes back to her typing. I swivel and search for the elevators, but don’t see them.

“Where is–”

“Down the hall on the left.”

I bob my head. “Thank you again.”

I walk down the hall, step on the elevator, and press the number six button.

The closer I get to seeing my mother, the more knotted my stomach becomes. My insides feel like a box of tangled necklaces. It’s hard enough interacting with her on a normal basis, much less after something like this.

I rub my face with my hands. I wish that the only emotion in my body was worry for my mom and for Raven. But anger and bitterness have their hooks in me. She’s put Raven in a terrible positionagain. She’s gone against her wordagain. She’s been selfish and recklessagain. Time after time she proves she’s unfit to be a mother, but she’s still my mother, so I don’t know what to do with all these feelings. It’s like I’ve picked up too many things and gotten to a door that I can’t open because my arms are full.

The elevator opens before I’m ready. Everything is always before I’m ready though. I step out and head straight for the circular desk in the middle of the sprawling area. A woman in purple scrubs with a tight ballerina bun looks up from a tablet on her desk.

“How can I help you, honey?” she asks. Her tone is much kinder than that of the receptionist.

“I’m looking for my mom, Lydia James. I was told she is on this floor.”

The nurse nods. “Yes, your sister said you were on your way. I’m your mom’s nurse. My name is Deon.” She stands up, tucks the tablet under her arm, and walks out from behind the desk. “Your mom has alcohol poisoning,” she explains in a gentle tone. “She was unconscious when she arrived and had a low body temperature. We were able to pump her stomach, and she’s on oxygen right now just to keep her breathing level while her body recovers.”

“Is she going to be okay? Were there any other issues?” I ask, though it sounds muffled due to the blood rushing in my ears.

“She’s doing well, all things considered. We’re going to keep an eye on her, but our tests showed that she’s not suffering from organ failure or any other issues beyond the common poisoning symptoms.”

“That’s good,” I say quietly, my gaze wandering. Most of the rooms have curtains drawn over their windows, so I can’t see which one she’s in or if my sister is with her.

“She did wake up for a short period after we pumped her stomach. She was very confused and disoriented, but she’s sleeping again now. I think it would be best if you waited to visit her until she was further along in her recovery.”

I nod. “Okay, and my sister?”

“She’s in the family waiting room, right over there.” She gestures to a closed door with a small silver plaque. “I gave her some crackers and apple juice since she was fairly shaky when she arrived. The last time I checked on her, she seemed to be settled.”

“Okay, I’m going to go see her. Thank you for letting me know all of this.”

Deon smiles. “Of course, honey. Let me know if you need anything, and I’ll come get you if there are any changes.”

She pats me on the shoulder before I turn to head to the waiting room. I reach out and place a hand on the doorknob, but before I go in, I force myself to straighten my drooping shoulders and steel my expression. My sister needs a rock to lean on, not a blubbering, anxious mess.

The metal clicks as I twist the knob. The door opens to a sad, beige room with ugly, faded green chairs. Raven is huddled in the corner, a half-eaten packet of peanut butter crackers in the chair next to her. The juice box she’s holding falls to the floor when she sees me. She stands and rushes toward me. I meet her in the middle and wrap her in my arms.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I murmur into her hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

She sobs in my arms and I hold strong like a fortress against a battering ram of emotion. If my parents can’t be this for her, I have to be. I can deal with my own heart later.

Chapter twenty

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