Lyndsay is going through her college schedule online while I lie on the bed. She has some mellow music going and it makes me want to fall asleep. I nearly do, but then I hear a faint sound through the window that causes me to jump straight up.
The sound of a siren.
A chill runs up my spine. “What is today?” I ask.
Lyndsay looks at the calendar on her wall. “The twentieth. Why?”
I turn to the calendar and confirm that it is the twentieth. My eyes widen in horror. The accident.
She stares, brows furrowing. “Adrienne. What is it? Is something wrong?”
This can’t be happening. I talked to John—everything should be fine.
“Seriously, Adrienne, what is wrong? You’re beginning to scare me.”
I snap back into reality. She doesn't know what I know, and she can’t find out. I can’t possibly tell the truth. I shake my head and quickly reply, “Sorry…I was just thinking about Kaitlin. I should get home to her. That’s all.”
“Hmm.” She doesn’t believe me. I'm about to crack when she sighs and says, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”
I give her a quick hug and head out the door. Hurrying down the street, I have fallen into full-blown disbelieving panic. There is no way this is happening. It has to be some sort of trick of my mind. The ambulance is going to another house. It is not at the Thompsons' house. It is just not possible.
Turning the corner onto Chevy’s street, the ambulance is in front of his house. My stomach sinks to my feet as I stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk. My breath catches in my throat. My worst fear has happened.
My second chance has been stomped on by fate.
My hands fly up to my mouth and I hold back a cry. I watch, helpless, as the paramedics carry John out of the house on a gurney and place him in the back of the ambulance. Chevy and his mother run out the door after them.
I freeze up, realizing I should not be here. I should not know about the significance of today. There is no logical reason for me to be standing here. None. But I can’t just stand here. And I can’t run away.
“Chevy!” I yell as I run to him. He turns his head and stares in disbelief. I close the space between us, taking hold of his arms. I ask, “What happened?”
His breath is uneven. “My…my dad. We were...we were eating dinner when he grabbed his chest.” He stops, looking to the house. “He fell to the floor. They...they think he had a heart attack.”
A heart attack. Of all the things…
Noreen takes hold of Chevy’s shoulders and touches the side of his face, saying, “I’m riding in the front. I called Seymour and he’s on his way to meet us there. Will you be able to drive there by yourself?”
Chevy is not only at a loss for words but he's also shaking. He is in no shape to be driving. I speak up, “If he can’t, I can drive him, Noreen.”
She looks relieved. “Thank you. Chevy, get the keys to my car. I will see you there.” She climbs into the front seat of the ambulance.
I grab Chevy’s hand and we run into the house. He finds her keys in the bowl on the table next to the door.
We drive to the hospital in near silence. I speed, but only slightly since I can’t stop looking over at him. His right hand is gripping the handle on the door so tightly his knuckles are turning white. The rest of him is shaking. Slowing down, I reach over and take his trembling hand in mine. He looks down at it, then to me. I squeeze his hand, and then turn my eyes back to the road.
When we get there, we run into the emergency room so quickly I don’t get the chance to brace myself for the smell. It hits me like a wall, causing me to stop. But I can’t stop now.
Not now.
Chevy stares at me. “Are you okay?” he asks, clearly concerned. He knows why I stopped.
This doesn’t matter though. John matters. Chevy matters. And he needs me.
I stare at him, holding my hand to my chest. Breathe in, breathe out. I can do this. I can do this. I need to push through the pain to help someone I care about. One deep breath later and I am in control. I take hold of Chevy’s arm and say, “I’m fine,” as I guide us to the nurse’s station. Noreen is nowhere in sight in the waiting room. She must be with John.
The nurse behind the counter turns out to be one of my mom’s hospital friends, Teresa. When she sees me, the expression on my face must scare her. “Adrienne! What’s wrong?”
I take in another deep breath and ask, “We’re looking for the man who was just brought in. John Thompson. Possible heart attack.” Chevy holds onto me tighter.
Teresa gasps. “Oh my,” she says. “They just took him in and the doctors are working on him now.”
I nod. “Okay. Where is the woman who came in with the paramedics?”
Chevy speaks up. “Yes, where's my mom?”
She looks to the double doors. “She's in there with them.”
Chevy leans on the counter and says, “Can we go back there? Please. I need to see him.”
Teresa gets a pained look on her face. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I can’t let anyone else back there.”
“But he’s my father!”
“Let me see what I can do, honey.” She picks up the phone and dials. “Please, have a seat,” she says, gesturing toward the waiting room. “I’ll call out for you when I get a hold of somebody.”
Chevy doesn’t move, so I tap his arm and say, “Come on,” taking him with me to the chairs. Just as we sit down, the double doors open and Noreen appears. We both stand up immediately. One look at Noreen’s face tells us all we need to know.
John didn’t make it.
When they let Chevy and his mom go back to say goodbye, I sit there in disbelief. Everything I had worked toward. Everything I had maneuvered. Everything I had done.
It all just vanished when John drew his last breath.
A couple of minutes go by, and then I see someone in teal scrubs walk toward me. It's my mom. Teresa must have paged her. She kneels down in front of me, wrapping me in a hug. I blink a couple times, not realizing until this moment that my eyes are ready to overflow. I choke out, “He died,” right before the tears spill out. I reach my arms around her, gripping tightly.
“I know,” she says, her voice breaking. She smoothes down my hair and holds me until I stop shaking.
Chapter Thirty-four
Friday, August 24th
I am numb. I can’t feel anything. My life is like a leaf caught in the wind. Just tossed around forever and ever until the wind stops. The end is just a puddle full of mud, sucking me under and into itself. When it dries, I just dry up and wither away into nothing.
Into dust.
With all that has been done, everything that I have tried to do to help, everything that has happened and changed—why not this?
After putting on the black dress, I sit at my vanity and look in the mirror. The face that looks back at me is just like the face I saw the day at the cemetery. I slowly gather my hair into a messy bun. Even though I don’t want to bother, I put on a little bit of makeup.
Once I am done, I can’t look at the girl staring back at me any longer. She isn’t who I am. She is someone who can’t do anything right. Someone who gets herself into disasters and can’t find a way out. Someone who gets a second chance and still fails at making things right.
Someone who can’t even protect the ones she loves.
When I got home that night, I found my list and tore it up. There was no point to the list now that the most important item on it wasn’t possible anymore.
I can barely get a bite of food in me. The thought of swallowing one more thing makes my stomach clench. I sit in silence, touching my fork to my eggs, while Maurice and my mom talk. I can't focus on the words. All I notice is how they seem so calm, so normal. Like this is supposed to be normal.