Page 35 of Prince Material
The flight attendant kept offering me drinks and snacks but my stomach was too knotted to even consider food. I kept checking my phone, even though I knew it wouldn’t work at this altitude. What if something happened while I was in the air? What if…
No. I couldn’t think like that. Mom was strong. She’d raised two kids alone, worked full time, kept us all together after Dad… She wouldn’t leave us. She couldn’t.
But the memory of that day on the roof kept creeping back, the way the water had risen so fast, how quickly everything had changed. One minute, life was normal. The next…
My phone buzzed the moment we landed, making me jump.
Tia
She’s out of surgery. Doctor says it went well. Where are you?
My hands shook as I typed back.
Me
Just landed. On my way.
I hadn’t even thought about how to get to the hospital from the airport, but I didn’t have to. A uniformed driver was waiting for me, holding up an iPad with my name on it. Floris had arranged a car for me, and my heart filled with gratitude all over again. The black, sleek car was another luxury that would’ve embarrassed me if I’d had the capacity to feel anything beyond desperate urgency. The driver seemed to sense my state, breaking several speed limits as we headed toward the hospital.
New Orleans rushed past the windows, familiar and strange at once. The heavy air hit me as soon as I stepped out of the car, that distinctive mix of humidity and history that always meant home. But right now, even that felt wrong, twisted by worry and fear.
I found Tia in the cardiac ICU waiting room, curled up in an uncomfortable-looking chair with Mrs. Bowman beside her. My sister looked so young, her face pale and drawn, and something inside me cracked at the sight.
“Orson!” She launched herself at me, and I caught her in a tight hug. She was shaking, or maybe I was. Maybe we both were.
Whether it was because she’d been a preemie, because she’d been sick a lot as a child, or simply because she was born that way, Tia was sweet and lovely, but very young for her age. She’d been held back twice, and even now, Mom had hesitated letting her attend the local community college.
“How is she?” I asked into her hair, not ready to let go yet.
“Stable.” Tia’s voice was muffled against my shirt. “They did a triple bypass. The doctor said she’ll need to be here for about a week, and then…” She pulled back, wiping her eyes. “How did you get here so fast? I thought it would take you hours to get a flight, maybe till tomorrow.”
“My roommate helped.” That felt like such an inadequate description of what Floris had done, but I couldn’t find the right words to explain how he’d swept in and taken control when I was falling apart. “Can we see her?”
Tia nodded. “They said family can visit for five minutes every hour. She’s still pretty out of it from the anesthesia, but…”
“But she’s alive,” I finished, and my voice cracked on the last word.
My sister grabbed my hand, squeezing hard. “She’s alive.”
Mrs. Bowman touched my arm gently. “Now that you’re here, I should head home. But call if you need anything, okay?”
I managed to thank her, grateful for how she’d stayed with Tia during those terrifying hours when I was too far away to help. Then a nurse appeared to tell us we could see Mom.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for how she looked, so small and pale against the white hospital sheets, surrounded by beeping machines and tubes. But her hand was warm when I took it, and her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm.
“I love you,” I whispered, not sure if she could hear me through the sedation. “We’re here, Mom. We’ve got you.”
Tia’s hand found mine again, and we stood there together, watching our mother breathe, each beep of the heart monitor a reminder that we hadn’t lost her. Not today. Not like this.
My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text from Floris.
Floris
Landed safely?
Me
Yes. She’s out of surgery. Stable.
