“Hello?” she said, her voice a little rough from sleep.
“Um, hello? Mrs. Carroll?”
“This is,” she answered, annoyed that a telemarketer was calling so early.
“Um, this is Toren Grey, Wesley’s….”
“What?” she interjected with a tone of aggravation.
“I’m sorry to call, but… um, Wesley’s in the hospital right now. He, um….”
“What?” she demanded again, this time in a panicked voice.
“He… he needs emergency surgery. He has appendicitis and….”
“Where? Where is he?” she asked.
“The University Hospital. He just went in for….”
“All right. I’ll be right there,” she said and hung up the phone.
I still had the receiver at my ear and the fear in her voice sank into me. I felt guilty all of a sudden, like I let this happen to Wesley, like this was my fault. My chest felt tight and I couldn’t take deep breaths. She sounded so afraid. I hung up the phone and balled my hands into fists at my sides. Tears welled again and I blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.
I called Mom and started crying again before I could even say hello. I choked on my sobs, and Mom guessed what had happened. She talked to me until I calmed down, and then said she would come up soon. I tried to tell her that I’d call her once Wesley was out of surgery and in a room, but Mom insisted on coming and I didn’t argue. Then I went back to the waiting room and listened to the clock until Mr. and Mrs. Carroll arrived twenty minutes later.
They hurried into the waiting room and I stood up quickly. They stared at me silently and I didn’t know what to say. I fidgeted my hands and Mr. Carroll glared at me.
“Where’s Wes?” he demanded.
“He… he’s in surgery now,” I stuttered quietly.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“He has appendicitis,” I explained, staring at the floor. I reiterated everything the ER doctor told me, and I started crying again.
They sat down across the waiting room from me and I heard them talking quietly but I couldn’t understand anything they were saying. I sat in the wooden chair with the purple cushion with my knees together and my shoulders slumped, trying to take up as little room as possible, wishing I could disappear altogether. After a few minutes, Mr. Carroll went to the courtesy phone at the back desk. He spoke with someone, but I only heard him mention Wesley’s name. Then he and Mrs. Carroll excused themselves and I was left all alone again. I took a deep, unsteady breath and felt relief that they were gone. I held my head in my hands, closed my eyes, and waited.
Mom and Alycia startled me when they entered the waiting room. They both came even though I told them they didn’t have to. Mom hugged me and Alycia rubbed my back and promised me that Wesley was going to be just fine. We sat down in the empty waiting room and Alycia grabbed a 500-piece puzzle from a nearby shelf.
Hours passed as we worked on the puzzle of an assortment of postage stamps. Mr. and Mrs. Carroll still hadn’t come back. Alycia went to buy some sodas for us, and we continued working on the puzzle.
“What time did Wes go in?” Mom asked, looking up at the clock.
“A little before eight,” I answered, glancing up at the clock too. It was just past twelve thirty.
“Hmm. He should be out of surgery by now. Recovery too,” she thought aloud, counting back the hours. My stomach cringed and Mom patted my head. “Let me call. I’ll see what’s going on,” she said.
Mom went to the courtesy phone and Alycia and I watched her. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, then she nodded her head.
“He’s out of recovery. He’s already in a room,” she said.
We hurried and took the elevator to the sixth floor. I had to keep myself from running as we turned down the hall Wesley was on. My breathing sped up and my heart thumped against my rib cage. The door to room 612 was wide open and Mr. Carroll stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed. Mrs. Carroll stood beside Wesley and I inhaled deeply, realizing I had been holding my breath. His face brightened and he smiled at me.
“There you are! Where have you been?” Wesley asked in a rough and raspy voice.
He had dark rings under eyes, greasy, disheveled hair, and an IV in his left arm and I thought he looked more handsome than ever. I unconsciously pushed my way past Mrs. Carroll and Wesley held out his hand to me. Tears filled my eyes and my lips moved, but no sound came out.
“Hi. How are you?” I finally managed to say, taking Wesley’s hand and squeezing it lightly.
Wesley closed his eyes and exhaled. “Really tired and a little achy, but a lot better than I was before,” he said and smiled again. “How are you?”
“A lot better now,” I answered honestly. Wesley closed his eyes again, but he kept hold of my hand. “Can… can I get you anything?”
“I’m really, really thirsty,” he answered, licking his dry, chapped lips.
“Let me get you some ice chips,” Mom said, smiling at Wesley.
“Hi, Amanda,” Wesley murmured, opening his eyes. He seemed surprised but genuinely happy that Mom and Alycia came to see him. Alycia stepped forward after Mom left the room and Wesley blinked slowly but kept smiling. “Hey, little sister.”
“Hi, big brother,” Alycia said softly, patting his shoulder.
Wesley’s parents stared with furrowed brows at the foot of the bed as we took over the room and Wesley’s attention. Mr. Carroll folded his arms on his chest and looked out the door.
“You really had us worried for a second there,” Alycia said with upturned brows. “I thought poor Toren was gonna have a heart attack,” she confided with a smile and a glance in my direction.
Mom returned with a
