Page 101 of These Rough Waters

I drop into the chair at the side of the bed, gently gripping her hand in mine, the warmth of her palm easing the panic inside of my chest.

I stare at where her hand rests in mine, picturing the blood that dripped from her fingers and feel the sting of tears.

But then her hand twitches and those dainty fingers wrap around mine.

My head snaps up.

“You came,” She croaks.

“I will always come for you,” I whisper, “I will follow you anywhere, Maya.”

Forty-seven

“Momma!” Harper cries as she flies across the room. I just about manage to catch the girl around the waist mid leap, stopping her from landing on her mother who was still very much injured and in pain. It had been a day since she was pulled from the wreck. A day of me staying in that lumpy blue hospital chair watching her sleep. I couldn’t stop staring at her chest, watching it rise and fall with each breath as if it were a trick.

She was alive. I knew this. Could hear the monitor’s steady beat, feel it under my hand and yet I couldn’t believe it.

“Hey kid,” I say gently, “Your mom is a bit sore; we have to take it easy.”

Harper hiccups in my arms and I wrap them more firmly around her, offering her my strength. “Hey baby,” Maya smiles at her daughter, tears glistening in her eyes, “I’m okay.”

“Momma you look hurt,” Harper sniffles, “Like you did before.”

“That won’t happen ever again, Harper,” She vows fiercely, “Never again.”

“But you’re hurt now,” She says, “Why are you hurt momma?”

I settle Harper onto my knee, noticing a second figure hanging back in the door and glance at Ruthie who clutches her throat as if to hold all her emotion back.

“There was just a bit of an accident, sweetheart,” Maya tells her, “When you’re old enough, I’ll tell you the story, okay?”

“You left me.” Harper wails and at that, Ruthie can’t hold it any longer and a gut-wrenching sob escapes from her throat.

Maya cries with her daughter, her whispered apologies and promises to never do it again sounding between them. Harper has half crawled onto the bed, me holding her to keep her weight off of Maya’s ribs and wrist but Maya was clinging to the girl just as hard as she was.

“Gently,” I say, helping Harper adjust so she is laying down the side of her mother, making sure there are no wires or tubes trapped under her. She curls into her mother’s chest, sobbing earnestly while Maya smooths her hand down the girls hair.

She looks over to Ruthie, “Thank you.” She mouths.

Ruthie just cries harder. “Here,” I say to the woman, “Take a seat, I’m going to grab coffee and check in on Rett.”

“I saw him on the way up,” Ruthie sniffs as she looks down at her wringing hands, “Is he going to be okay? He wasn’t awake when I checked.”

“My brother doesn’t give up that easily,” I swallow. “I’ll be back.”

I hadn’t left the hospital for more than half an hour. I’d ran out at the crack of dawn this morning to find fresh clothes but came straight back, changing in the private bathroom in Maya’s room. I’d grab a shower later in the shower room one of the nurses had shown me earlier.

I’d contacted Ruthie who’d demanded one of the fishermen from town to bring her and Harper over. The storm had passed, making their trip easy enough but I’d told Ruthie to get back before evening since nothing was ever predictable for our tiny island.

The hospital was busy, with doctors and nurses and other members of staff meandering the halls as I head down to the cafeteria and grab three coffees and a hot coco for Harper. I stop in on my brother on the way back, placing the takeout cups on the table before I take a seat in the chair beside his bed.

He was still in his coma, the doctors have said he’ll likely remain in it for a week minimum, but I’d heard somewhere that even in this state, some people can hear you.

It was easier talking with Everett like this unconscious, since if I were to say any of this shit to him awake, he’d rip me apart and I’d never live it down.

The likelihood of him hearing and remembering was pretty slim.

“Thank you,” I rest my elbows on my knees and stare down at the dirtied boots on my feet. “You helped her. I couldn’t be there, but you were.”

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