“You know Henrietta. She’d want to go all
out. And that’s what we’re gonna do.”
“I’m really glad you’re here.” Aud gripped
Derian’s hand.
“So am I.” Derian rested their joined hands
on her knee. She’d forgotten what it was like to face uncertainty and fear with
someone by her side. She thought back to the night before and Emily waiting so
patiently for her, despite her exhaustion, despite that they’d been strangers.
The memory warmed her. She needed to call Emily. As soon as she saw Henrietta,
she’d call Emily.
The cab driver earned his tip even though it
took him twenty-two minutes instead of fifteen. After handing the driver his
cash, Derian jumped out and held the door for Aud. They hurried across the
sidewalk, through the lobby, and to the elevators. Outside the ICU, Derian
said, “I’ll be out as soon as I know what’s going on. I don’t think I’ll be
long.”
“That’s all right, do whatever you have to
do.”
“You don’t have to wait—you must have a busy
day ahead.”
Aud smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed
Derian’s cheek. “Dere, don’t be an idiot.”
“Okay. Right. I’ll work on that.” Derian
turned away.
“Dere,” Aud said quietly behind her, “I’ll
have to call Martin.”
Derian looked back over her shoulder. “Why?”
“Because he’s her brother, because it’s my
job, and because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Do what you have to do.” She slammed her
palm into the red button and it thunked satisfyingly into the wall. The doors
whooshed open and she strode in. Martin wouldn’t care, and he wouldn’t come.
She put him out of her mind.
Immediately, a young woman with short red
hair and maroon scrubs moved to intercept her. “I’m sorry, visiting hours
aren’t for—”
“I’m Derian Winfield. My aunt is going to
have surgery soon. A Dr. Armstrong—”
“Oh, of course.” She held out her hand. “I’m
Dr. Carolyn Wayne, the intensive care fellow. I’ve been looking after your aunt
during the night.”
“Is she all right?”
“Yes. Come on, I’ll take you down. She may or
may not wake up while you’re there, but she has been lucid for short periods.”
“And the surgery is still scheduled?”
“The OR just called. They’re sending for her
now.”
Derian’s stomach tightened. She didn’t know
much about surgery, but she knew this was major. And Henrietta, always bigger
than life, seemed smaller, diminished, lying so still beneath the light white
sheets. Acid burned its way up her chest.
The resident disappeared as Derian leaned
over the bed and took Henrietta’s hand. Like yesterday, the metronomic beep of
machines, the rhythmic scroll of the digital readouts, the tubes and vials and
bags all heightened the surreal sensation of having been catapulted into an
alien universe. “Hey, HW. It’s Dere.”