Page 85 of That Conflicted Feeling

They’rethe first wordsI’vespoken to her since she turned away in the back of the helicopter.Betweenher staring alternately out of the window and at her phone and her reluctance to let me touch her, it seemed wiser not to push it.

“Ineed to talk toCarly,”she says without looking at me and moves the phone to her ear.Herside of the conversation is brief and filled with tense pauses as she listens to her friend.

Shemight not want me to talk to her but fuck that.She’sdesperate with worry, andI’mdesperate to help her.Isit on my hands to stop myself from touching her, since that didn’t go well the last few times.

“What’sthe news?”Iask when she hangs up.

“Thedoctors are with her.Butthey’re still waiting for theX-rays.Carlywas talking to me from the hallway outside her room.”

“Butis she conscious and okay?”

Shesnaps her head toward me, and the eyes that meet mine have lost the softness, brightness, and life they’ve had all day.They’renow cold and hard. “She’sconscious, yes.Butthat doesn’t mean she’s okay.”

Hermom might be perfectly fine.Pollymight be overreacting.Butthere’s no way in hellI’mgoing to say that.

Wesit in silence for the rest of the drive to the hospital, my arms yearning to envelop her, my heart aching to take care of her and shoulder her pain.

* * *

Pollycareens breathlessly through the door of her mom’s hospital room with me half a step behind.

“Oh,Mom,” she cries, flinging her arms aroundGloria’sneck. “I’mso sorry.I’mso sorry.”

Gloria, the picture of calmness, smiles at me overPolly’sshoulder as she pats her daughter on the back. “It’sfine.I’mfine.Youhave nothing to be sorry for.”Hereyes are a little glazed. “Haveyou two had a lovely day?”

“Well, you’re not actuallytotallyfine, are you,Gloria?”Carlysays, from a chair on the other side of the bed.

Pollybolts upright and stares at her friend. “Whatdo you mean?”

Carlynods atGloriato tellPollyherself.

“Imight have a teensy-weensy bit of a fracture.”Gloriaholds up her thumb and forefinger to indicate how minuscule she thinks the break is.

“Afracture?”Pollyasks. “You’vebroken something?”Sheturns to glare atCarly. “Whydidn’t you tell me?”

“Onlyjust got theX-ray results after you called from the car,”Carlysays. “Youwere nearly here, soIfigured we’d tell you in person.”

“Justa little break.”Gloria’swords are slightly slurred now. “Justin my leg.It’llbe fine.”

“Wherein your leg?Andwhat happened?”Pollyturns toCarlyagain for an explanation.

“Justsomewhere in my shin,”Gloriachimes in. “Doctorsays it’s not that bad.Sixweeks in a brace to heal andI’llbe good to go.”

Pollytakes her mom’s hand. “Youmust be in so much pain though.”

“Oh, they have me on some great drugs.”That’llexplain the glazed eyes and the slurring.

“Painmedication is excellent these days,”Ioffer, desperate to contribute something.

Pollyshoots a sideways glance vaguely in my direction, like she’d forgottenIwas here and wishesIwasn’t.

Sheturns her attention straight back toGloria. “Howdid it happen?”

“Ithink maybeIthoughtIwas doing better thanIwas.”

“Yes,”Carlysays.

“AndmaybeIwas trying to do too much.”