Gloria located the public phone in the
privacy room down the hall, where the nurse said it would be. She
closed the door from the bustle on the outside and began rifling
through her purse, pulling out the address book and locating the
number. Her fingers felt heavy as she punched the keys, waiting as
it rang.
“Lily? It's Mom. Lily...are
you there, honey?”
The voice on the other side was
different. Perhaps it wasn't Lily who'd answered “hello”.
“What do you want?”
“Is this T.J.? T.J., can you
give Lily a message, please? Her Dad's in the hospital. It's a
stroke. He's in pretty poor shape; not very lucid. I think she
should come and see him. Do you know where she is?”
“She's gone out. I'll give her
the message.” There was a pause. “Which hospital?”
“St. Michael's. Please, T.J.,
tell her it's important that she come as soon as possible.”
There was a click and the
connection was gone. Gloria didn't like that boy, whoever he was.
He was rude and boorish. Likely they were living together now the
way he answered Lily's phone as if it was his place.
They'd become friends in high
school; at least that was the first mention of him. Gloria had never
met him, though. Lily refused to bring him home; guarding their
relationship from her mother's prying questions with chilly
aloofness. Gloria had been happy that her daughter had met a boy.
She hoped he'd be good for her but now she wondered. What had Lily
told him about her parents that made him so defensive. She didn't
really want to know.
Gloria escaped her memories of
Lily's child-hood, leaving them buried in that room, welcoming the
buzz of the hospital hallways. She was trading trauma for trauma as
she turned left into Intensive Care and followed the room numbers to
E12.
He was lying on the bed in the
same position she'd left him. His eyes were closed and a myriad of
thin hoses ran from his nose, mouth and arm. Gloria drew up the
chair next to him and reached for his hand. It was grey and cold.
His eyelids didn't flinch in recognition to her touch. She felt so
alone.
Her thoughts went back to Lily.
She'd left home in a hurry; gone the day after she procured her first
job at the bakery. She never called home, never visited, never even
checked in to see how they were doing. Gloria didn't push it. Her
daughter had to find her own wings, make her own way. Jerry never
asked about Lily. He'd taken her leaving as a personal affront and
met any discussion about her with consternation.
She really needed Lily right now.
If Jerry didn't come to, if things got worse and a big decision had
to be made, Gloria didn't think she could do it alone. Lily had to
come. She could not possibly be that cold.
Phoebe curled tightly into the
corner of the sofa, her teddy bear warm and soft against her cheek.
Old re-runs of Power Puff girls danced on the T.V screen; Blossom,
Bubble and Buttercup racing in to save the day from another
collection of evil nemeses. She reached for the warm glass of milk
on the coffee table, inadvertently bumping it to the floor. She made
no move to retrieve it, watching as the white fluid ran along the
paisley throw rug and slowly disappeared.
To be continued...
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