Page 49

Hospital Stay

Mallory

I turn on my side and stare at the hospital bed a few feet away. The beeping sounds from the machines hooked up to my mom aren’t my favorite sort of white noise, but I’ll survive.

Mostly, I’m grateful she’s going to survive.

I sent my dad and Jo home to get some sleep.

They’ve been up since last night at this time, when they found my mom in a heap on the basement floor.

Basically, she slipped and fell down the stairs and, because of her autoimmune condition, didn’t have the reflexes to break her fall.

They tried to get a hold of me last night, to let me know what was going on, but I left my phone in my room at Daisy’s when I went out with Holland.

It was dead when I got back in late, and I plugged it in and fell asleep without waiting to see any missed messages.

The guilt that I wasn’t here…that I could have been here sooner if I would have answered when they tried to reach me…

has taken on the physical form of a rock in my stomach.

My mom’s got a broken leg and a concussion.

But things could have been a lot worse. She could have gotten a brain bleed or had swelling that made her have a stroke or killed her immediately.

I shudder. I can’t even go there. It was the concussion that made her lose consciousness last night… and the pain from the tibial fracture.

I stare at her bed, silently praying for a quick recovery and discharge, not only because this couch bed is like sleeping on a box of rocks but also because any time off her physical therapy regimen is only going to make her CIDP progress.

I want to do everything possible to keep her out of a wheelchair and allow her to retain as much autonomy as she can.

Heck, while I’m praying, I may as well say the same Hail Marys she loves so much for a complete and miraculous healing of her CIDP.

My phone vibrates from where I have it wedged on the inside of the couch-bed I’m snuggled up on. It’s Holland.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Hi.” The rumble of his low voice is like a massage over the phone. My shoulders drop, and my entire body sighs. “Is it an okay time?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m watching my mom sleep…not in a creepy way.”

“I actually prefer when people watch me when I sleep. Totally normal.”

I let out a soft chuckle.

“How are you?” Holland’s voice is serious.

“I…I don’t know. I’m exhausted. My brain is full of medical terminology, and I’m worried about her future.” I feel tears clogging my throat. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, if that’s okay.”

“You don’t have to.” Holland soothes. After a moment, he adds, “I thought I could read to you, if you wanted.”

Tears spring into my eyes.

“I would like that,” I croak out.

“Okay. Make yourself comfortable.”

I snort. “That’s impossible.” I tell him about the couch.

“Well, imagine you’re lying against my chest, and I’m rubbing your back and playing with your hair. ”

“You and my hair. So obsessed,” I mutter, as I let my eyelids fall closed.

“You’re one to talk. You manhandled my luscious locks last night.”

I sigh, my lips hitching up. “I know. You’ve got great hair.”

“See? We were meant to be. We could do a couples shampoo commercial. Dual shower heads, steam, lots of bubbles—“

“O-kay, Holland.” I can’t help the girlish giggle that escapes. “That’s enough of that.”

“You know we’d make millions.”

“Are we going to need millions?” I ask, good humor fleeing as I remember the mess I left behind in Cashmere Cove.

“I told you not to worry about it,” Holland scolds.

“Just tell me. What did Vivian say? What is the network going to do?”

“They’re not going to do anything. We’re figuring out how to spin the images that leaked. They’ve already been removed from most of the main sites. Leaks are common with any reality TV programming, so we’re not all that special.”

“I still can’t believe someone sold us out.

Who was it?” It’s been gnawing at me. The people of Cashmere Cove were so welcoming and warm.

They seemed to have our best interests and happiness at heart.

I can’t imagine any of them would have taken photos of us and then gone out of their way to sell them to a gossip rag, and yet… who else could it be?

“It was Jennah.”

Ah. That makes more sense.

“Remember that SUV that blasted us with water when we were, um…otherwise engaged.”

“Call it what it was Holland. I was kissing your face off.”

He laughs. “Right. That. Well, she was on her way to a hotel in Green Bay ahead of her flight out this morning. She saw us and had her driver pull over. She snapped a bunch of shots and then had him drive off. ”

I shake my head, groaning.

“It’ll all be fine. Vivian has been in our corner from day one. She’s going to spin this to our advantage somehow. She talked to the network execs and has them convinced the show for the season is not spoiled. If anything, she said the clandestine photos will only add to the intrigue. Her words.”

“I have never once been called intriguing.”

“Believe me. You’re very, very intriguing.“ He drops his voice seductively and makes me laugh.

“I wish I was with you,” I say.

“I wish I was with you too.” He clears his throat. “But for now, let’s let Anne and Gilbert and Marilla and Matthew bridge the gap. Just relax. If you fall asleep, that’s even better.”

“Quit picturing me sleeping, you weirdo.”

“Too late. You’re cute when you have drool lines down your cheek.”

“Ew. That’s not fair. I was sick!”

“You were adorable.”

“Holland!” I laugh. “Read the book, and quit making me blush.”