Page 108 of Free to Live
“That’s correct, Ms. Freeman.” I shake my head as frantically as I can without it hurting. He frowns. “It’s in your best interest.”
Jason lets loose a watery chuckle. “I think she’s objecting to the ‘Ms. Freeman.’ All of my sisters-in-law are casual people. Just call her Holly.”
My doctor looks at me for confirmation. I slowly nod. “Okay, Holly. We’re going to get you well. Then we’re going to get you out. Deal?” He touches my arm briefly.
It’s then I glance down at my hands. They’re wrapped up in gauze. My heart starts to pound in my chest uncontrollably. I begin to shake.
“Hols? Hols, it’s not that bad. I swear to you. They’re just a little burned,” Jason promises me.
They? Both? I lift up my hands to find them both wrapped in white gauze that reminds me of mittens. I don’t know if the burning is so bad I can’t feel pain or if it’s the drugs. Either way, it doesn’t matter.
They can’t be as bad as the pain in my heart.
Lowering them carefully to my bed, I let out a weary sigh and close my eyes. Having lost my home, my love, and my future surrounding my heart like a shield, I’m not ready to face anything just yet.
60
Joseph
Holly’s been conscious for a few days. Each morning, I drive down to Greenwich with a new drawing from Grace, a card, and a care package from me. Since they’re so worried about infection, Jason’s the only one allowed to see her now that she’s been pulled back from the edge. He’s texted me photos of Holly holding the pictures my little girl’s drawn for her, her lips curved in a facsimile of a smile. I can see the oxygen cannula sitting to the side. I’m grateful she thinks to remove it before Jason takes the photo, but I want to yell at her to put it back on so she gets better.
Still, even I crop the photo so when I show it to Grace, she doesn’t get scared. Instead, she just hugs me tighter.
Tonight I’m making her favorite dinner of grilled cheese and tater tots when she bursts out with, “Mommy talked to me last night, Daddy.”
I freeze in place. I don’t know how to handle this.
“Daddy! Don’t burn my cheesy sammich!”
Shit. Quickly, I flip over the grilled cheese. “Sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay. Mommy said you’re good at fixing things. You’ll fix Holly,” my three-year-old daughter says confidently.
Before I burn our dinner, I turn off the burner. I don’t turn around. “What did you say, Gracie?”
“Mommy said you’ll fix Holly, but it won’t be quick. So, I shouldn’t be sad I won’t see her for a while.”
I hope your mother really believes that because your old man screwed up huge.“Well, honey, your mommy would know.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Why are you sad again?” Dark curls fall to her shoulders when she tips her head to the side. “Is it because of Holly?”
I nod. I’m suffering every moment I’m awake. It just gets worse when I’m lying alone in a bed I’ve shared with the woman I love. My heart is collapsing onto itself more and more every day. If it wasn’t for Grace, I don’t know what I would do.
The doorbell interrupts my thoughts.
“Be right back, honey,” I mutter. “Stay away from the stove.”
Striding down the hall, I check out the peephole and sigh harshly. Crap. Mine and Mary’s parents. This is the absolute last thing I need right now. “Mom. Dad. Eden and Seth. Grace and I were just about to have dinner,” I say with a slightly warning note in my voice.
Eden steps forward and wraps her arms around me. “Joe, we’re so sorry.” Her voice is muffled against my chest. I look over at Seth in confusion. His face is haggard.
“We’re both sorry, son. Can we come in?”
“Grandma! Grandpa! Gram! Gramps! Are you having tots with us?” Grace runs down the hall and throws her arms around her my father’s legs. He lifts her up and buries his head in her neck. She giggles.
