Out of the Shallows
Page 46

 Samantha Young

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“I get it,” he said and I knew that he did. “You’re not completely alone, though, right? Your mom and dad and Rick are there.”
“Yeah, but… I guess we’re all dealing with it differently.” I didn’t even want to think about how much this had broken my parents. My parents had always been larger-than-life characters who could deal with anything life threw their way. But this… they seemed older, more fragile, and every time they looked upon Andie in that hospital bed, I could see another crack form in the armor they’d worn their whole lives.
That scared me just as much as the sight of my sister in a coma.
“I better get back,” I whispered, my throat constricting.
“Okay, baby,” he said softly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I hung up and stuffed the phone in my pocket.
Okay, baby. I love you.
I love you too.
But I hate you too. I hate me too.
Trembling, I sucked in a huge gulp of air and tried to calm myself. After a minute or so, I felt a little more together and walked back into the hospital.
I’d barely left my sister’s side. The only time I did leave the hospital was to go back to Rick and Andie’s for a shower. My parents tried to get some sleep there, but I just couldn’t sit in that house. It was filled with Andie. Her pictures, her perfume, her things, her work, her clothes, and the funny refrigerator magnets she collected.
I’d gone into the kitchen to get some orange juice and I’d stopped at the sight of the magnets. In the middle was the black and white one I’d found during my sophomore year at Purdue. When we were younger, my sister was obsessed with pirates. I’d never forgotten the many times I found myself sitting on a sofa cushion in the middle of my parents’ living room floor with my hands bound behind my back while my sister stood triumphant on the arm of the sofa, a patch over her eye. With that, she’d command her invisible crew to haul anchor and her ship (the sofa) would sail off, leaving me to die on deserted island (the cushion) for betraying her to the navy.
The black and white fridge magnet had the words “To Err is Human, to Arr is Pirate” printed over a skull and crossbones. When I’d given it to Andie, she’d laughed so hard, she cried.
At the sight of the magnet, I collapsed.
My mom found me and held me while I let it all out.
I’d refused to stay in that house for any longer than the length of a shower since.
Returning to the hospital room with coffee and sandwiches for both me and Rick, I found him sitting close to Andie, holding her hand in both of his. When he heard me come in, he ducked his head and swiped at the tears I knew he hoped I hadn’t seen.
Placing the coffee and sandwich down beside him, I didn’t offer him comfort or bring up his grief, because I think he needed to feel strong in all this. Rick wasn’t a stupid guy—he could see my parents were barely holding it together and I knew he felt some obligation to be strong for us all. It was no use attempting to convince him otherwise. It was just the person he was.
I sat back in my chair and sipped at my coffee.
“You better open that sandwich,” Rick said softly.
He started to eat his slowly and I felt a pang in my stomach.
I guess I was a little hungry.
Nibbling at it, I listened to the sounds of the monitors around my sister.
“She was mad at herself too, you know,” Rick suddenly said.
I almost choked on the bite of sandwich as I sucked in air. After a sip of coffee, I asked, voice hoarse, “What do you mean?”
“You’re not to blame for the argument, Charley. It happened. The two of you are stubborn.”
“I should’ve called,” I said flatly. “I should’ve been here.”
“‘Should haves’ only hurt you, kiddo. Don’t do that to yourself.”
“Why? Aren’t you doing that to yourself?”
We stared at each other a moment until Rick finally sighed and looked back at Andie. “I should’ve married her sooner. She wanted to get married right away. I should’ve done it.”
After a moment of silence, I whispered, “I should have put her first.”
“What?”
I glanced up at Rick. “Nothing.”
His phone rang and he excused himself. I took the opportunity to shimmy forward in my chair and clutch my sister’s hand. “I’m sorry I chose Jake over you, Andie. I’m so sorry.”
I kissed her hand and screwed my eyes shut and for the first time in a long time, I prayed. I prayed that God could hear me… I prayed that if He could, I’d be repentant. My penance—If you save her, I’ll give him up. If Andie wakes up, I’ll let Jake go. I’ll choose her over him.
I hurried into the hospital, my hair damp, eyes heavy with lack of sleep. I always hurried back after a quick shower. I didn’t want to miss anything.
We were on day fourteen.
I felt hope sliding through my fingers, the tips grasping for purchase.
“Charley!” My mom’s eyes were bright, brighter than I’d seen them in fourteen days, as she strode down the corridor from my sister’s room.
“What? What is it? What’s happened?”
“Andie started choking,” Mom said, her words rushed and excited. “She’s breathing on her own. She’s awake, Charley. She’s awake.”
I burst out crying. “Awake?” I sobbed, overwhelmed by the relief flooding me.
“She’s in and out.” Mom tugged on my arm, pulling me toward the room. “The doctor says it might take a day or two for her to come fully around. But she’s out of the coma.”
I froze in the doorway of my sister’s hospital room, suddenly paralyzed with fear.
I watched as Mom, Dad, and Rick hovered over her while the doctor spoke. The ventilator was gone and although her eyes where shut, Andie’s lids fluttered. She moved her head and emitted a small groan.
I pressed back against the door, fighting the urge to flee.
Andie was awake. She was going to make it.
In amongst the relief I felt a wave of nausea, and I ducked outside the door to press my forehead against the cool wall.
My bargain with God.
I had to let Jake go somehow.
Trembling, I took out my phone and called him. This time I didn’t use FaceTime.
I told him Andie was awake. I ignored his relief. I ignored his love. I had to in order to say what I needed to say. I told him not to call me anymore. I told him it was over. And then I hung up and switched my phone off.