Page 54 of Only With Me
“Harlow!”
My eyes snap to the side when I hear my mom’s voice rushing toward me.
“Are you okay?” She smothers me in her arms, holding my head to her chest.
“I’m worried about him.”
“I know, sweetie. They’re gonna take good care of him.”
They won’t allow her to treat him, so all we can do is wait for now.
“Lemme check out your hand,” she says, grabbing it.
“It’s fine. But we’re gonna need a new window.” I tense, hoping she’s not upset about that.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she says softly, leading me to a triage room. “Your fight or flight response is always one step ahead of your brain.”
She’s referring to the home invasion.
Had I not reacted the way I did—in fight mode—the guy would’ve never gotten the bat out of my hand and then used it against me.
But maybe he shouldn’t have tried to rob us in the first place.
“At least there’s a lot less blood this time,” I say to lighten the mood.
“Thank God,” she murmurs. “But you’re still at risk for infection if we don’t get the glass out and clean it.”
It’s not until after my hand is bandaged and we’re sitting outside Dad’s room, waiting for him to return from a CT scan, that the severity of the situation slams into my chest. Tears well in my eyes as the emotions overwhelm my senses and my heart races to catch up with my rapid breathing.
I count to twenty, waiting for the anxiety attack to pass, and squeeze Mom’s hand.
“I know the situation is different, but is this how it felt waitin’ to hear if I was alive or not?”
Mom wraps an arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer. “Think about the worst moment of your life and then times that by infinity when it’s your child.”
I choke up, wiping my face because I can’t even imagine how bad it must’ve been. “I hate that you guys went through that.”
“I’ve never prayed harder for God to spare your life because if he hadn’t, I threatened to go into that boy’s hospital room and make sure he didn’t live. After your dad shot him, he needed surgery to stop the bleeding, but at that moment, I didn’t care. If you didn’t make it, he didn’t deserve to either.”
I’ve never heard her speak this way before. She was always so gentle and caring, but knowing what I must’ve looked like and how many injuries I had, I can’t say I blame her for being so angry.
“But after I prayed and prayed, I knew there was another Mama nearby beggin’ for her child’s life too, and I just couldn’t do that to another parent. We were both sufferin’ and beggin’ for a miracle, and I knew prayin’ for his death wouldn’t affect your ability to survive. So I asked God to save both of you because your families need y’all no matter what.”
By this point, I’m full-on snot-crying and shaking.
She holds me tighter, her tears mixing with mine. “Your daddy is strong and he’s gonna get through this. It’s where you got it from. All your strength and resilience.”
“You’re strong too, Mama. Look how much you’ve been through. You’re the strongest person I know.”
And she is.
Taking care of Daddy and me, having no time to take care of herself, and still working in between so we could keep a roof over our heads. She never gets a day off. Even years later, she’s always taking care of us at home or her patients at the hospital.
“Mrs. Fanning?”
Our heads pop up and a nurse and doctor stand in front of us.
We both stand. “Yeah? Is he okay?”
