Page 20 of This I Know
“What’s that?”
She gestures to my nightstand, toward the flower.
I follow her gaze, then reach over and take the flower in my hand. It doesn’t look as pristine as I thought it had the other night; it’s looking a little worse for wear after having traveled inside my pocket, a trip which I’m now regretting subjecting it to. It’s become brittle, and I’m afraid to handle it. I don’t want it to break.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I mean, it’s a flower, obviously ... but I don’t know where it came from. I found it in my hospital room the day I was discharged.”
“Oh, a mystery.” She coos, smiling. “Here, let me see it.”
She sets down the toiletries and holds out her hand. I hesitate before passing it to her.
“Did it fall out of one of your cards?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, that’s weird.” She loses interest quickly and passes it back. She picks up her things and heads toward the bathroom.
“Can I tell you something?” I say, stopping her with my words.
She stops.
“I mean, you’ll probably think it’s weird or something completely drug-induced.”
She takes a seat on the bed next to me, watching and waiting, trying carefully to not drop any of the items still in her hands.
“Spill.”
“Okay.” I play with my fingernails. “I’m pretty sure a stranger came to visit me in the hospital. Several times.”
She lets out a single laugh, then stops. “Are you sure? Isn’t there, like, a law against that or something?”
“I have no idea. But I feel like I saw him several times.”
“Youfeellike you saw him?”
I nod. That’s the best I can do. I just felt it.
But she doesn’t mind. She’s smiling, and I’m grateful that even if she thought I had been hallucinating the entire thing, I know she wouldn’t call me out.
“Well … it was a him, huh?” Mara says. “Was he cute?”
I smile, too, and nod. “Amazingly cute.”
“Amazingly cute! Avery, the next time you see this amazingly cute, strange boy you need to give him my number. You know how I struggle.”
“Sorry, every girl for herself. The only number I’d be giving him is mine.”
“Jerk.” She fake-punches me again. “I’ll be back.” And with that, she finally slips out of the room and into the bathroom. I hear the shower start, so I take the opportunity to head downstairs. I’m starving for some breakfast, which has smelled better and better that whole time. And maybe some food will calm my nerves.
“Oh, honey!” my mom says when I walk into the kitchen. “I didn’t know you were getting up this early. I was going to bring you some food.”
I shrug. “It’s okay.”
She slides a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of me.
“How are you feeling?”
How are you feeling.That’s a question you have to get used to in recovery. You hear it all the time, over and over again, from everyone from doctors to nurses to visitors to family. It’s a sweet gesture, but it has the potential to get on your nerves after so long. Plus, what are you supposed to say if you feel like crap?
