Page 13 of Dear Adam
My dad narrows his eyes, opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it and instead walks over to my mom, who stands to join him. She won’t meet my eyes as they make their way to the door. I want to ask where they’re going, but stop myself because, do I really care? The door shuts behind them with a click, and I’m left alone with Adam. I look around at the ridiculous balloons and teddy bear, afraid I overdid it.
No,I think to myself.This isexactlywhat Adam would’ve done for me if the roles were reversed right now.He’d come up with some impractical and ridiculously over the top way to make sure I smiled.
Settling into a chair at his bedside, I flip on the TV and Meg Ryan’s voice fills the room.
I sit there with him until my stomach grumbles so viciously I can’t ignore it any longer. As I’m dragging my chair back against the wall, the door opens and my mom walks in. Her eyes are puffy and I can tell she’s tried to cover up her ruined makeup with the Chanel compact she always carries in her handbag. My mother has never so much as stepped foot out of her bedroom door let alone the house without her perfectly coiffed bob and full face of makeup.
Meanwhile, I’ve been up all night painting my kitchen cabinets, something she’d never dream of doing. If she wanted different color kitchen cabinets, she’d simply order them and pay someone to install them for her. To her, there’s no problem big enough that can’t be fixed by throwing a little money at it. As if reading my mind, her gaze lands on the paint in my hair, and distaste rolls off her in waves.
I’ve always struggled to connect with my mom. While she is clean and orderly in her head to toe designer brands, I’m disheveled chaos in last week's thrifted sundress, which I found crumpled in the corner of my closet and threw on before I came here.
“Where’s dad?” I ask, needing to break the tense silence.
She motions for me to take a seat. “He’s having a hard time with this, Alyson,” she says. “I’m not sure if you know this or not, but he’s not very good at expressing his emotions.” I work to suppress a snort. That might just be the understatement of the century. “He headed back to the office. He needs to get his mind off Adam for a little while.”
Anger rises in my chest, searing hot. “He needed to get his mind off his son?” I ask, my voice dripping with acid. Her blue eyes search mine, looking for any sign of understanding. But she’s not going to find it. “I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ll be back tomorrow.” I give Adam a kiss on the cheek and push open the door. A nurse is standing on the other side, her hand on the door handle, ready to come in.
“Excuse me,” she says. “I was just about to get some vitals.” I slip out from the door jamb into the hallway and quietly close the door behind me.
“I’m Adam’s sister, Aly,” I explain quietly. The last thing I want is for Mom to come out and take control of this conversation. “Can you tell me how he’s doing? Like how he isreallydoing? I need to know.”
The nurse lets out a little sigh. She pulls his chart out from under her arm and scans it before her gaze meets mine. “Can I show you something?” she asks. I nod, too afraid to speak. She pulls the results of a CT scan out of the stack of papers and sets them on top. “This is your brother’s brain. The bright white area is blood and this area over here has some swelling.” I squint my eyes as if I’m concentrating extra hard but really, I just don’t want to cry right now. I need to stay strong so she will tell me exactly what she knows.
“The doctors were also able to reset his broken arm. His vitals are stable and they have been for over twenty-four hours now, so that’s a really good sign. Once that swelling goes down, we’ll have a better idea of next steps.” She takes her glasses off and slides them into the front pocket of her scrubs.
“When do you think he will wake up?”
“It could be tomorrow, it could be…” her voice trails off. “Rest assured, he’s in the best of hands right now, Aly. We’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze and moves toward the door again. I’m walking toward the elevator when I hear her call my name. I look over my shoulder and she’s grinning from the open doorway.
“Good call with the balloons.”
When I arrive home, I can tell Emma’s been over. For starters, there’s takeout from my favorite Thai restaurant in the fridge that wasn’t there when I left, and Pretzel is happily chewing on a new stuffed unicorn in the middle of my bed. I flop down next to her and play tug with the new stuffed toy until we both tire out.
When she snuggles up next to me and lays her head on my shoulder, she lets out a small, sad sigh that lets me know she misses Adam. I’m Googling ways to smuggle her into the hospital when my phone beeps. It’s a text from Emma asking if Pretzel likes her new unicorn. I tell her she loves it and snap her a selfie of the three of us, even though the unicorn is now missing an eye and half its horn.
Adam would love this picture. He’s so obsessed with Pretzel that anything that makes her happy, makes him happy, too. He’s the perfect dog dad. A mixture of emotions stir inside me when I realize the one person I want to talk to about what’s going on is the one person who can’t reply back. He’s always been the one I’ve relied on, the one that’s always there, even if it’s three a.m. when I can’t sleep and need to talk to someone about the latest Netflix series I’ve binged. He’s more than my twin brother; he’s my very best friend.
Then, an idea comes to me. Scrolling through my phone, I find my text thread with Adam and open it up.
Dear Adam,I type then delete it thinking that might be too formal. He’s my twin, not someone I’m trying to impress. But then I realize my formality would probably make him laugh, so I type it out again, and keep typing until I feel like I’ve caught him up on everything he’s missed the last few days.
After attaching the picture of me and Pretzel, I hit send.
Chapter six
Levi
“Makesureyoutakeit easy, okay?” The doctor says as I finish signing the last of my discharge papers. I nod and scrawl my name one last time with a shaky hand. The past forty eight hours have been unexpected to say the least.
An older nurse with graying hair pulled back into a low ponytail brings me a bag full of my belongings and pats me on the shoulder. “They flew your friend back to South Carolina early this morning,” she says quietly.
“Did he make it okay? Have you heard anything?” Anxiety grips my chest and the familiar guilt settles low in my belly. I had begged the nurses to take me to Adam’s room yesterday, and although they had warned me what I would see, nothing had prepared me for the way seeing my best friend in that hospital bed would make me feel.
“I’m not supposed to share information with anyone outside of his family,” she says, lowering her voice. “But I called a little while ago for an update. I knew you’d ask and I didn’t think it was fair to keep it from you.” She gives me a shy, nervous smile and looks around for any eavesdroppers before continuing. “He arrived in stable condition. He still hasn’t woken up but so far, so good.” I nod, unable to speak.
She walks me to the door and I manage a feeble, “Thank you.”
