The Words We Leave Unspoken(48)

Grey hasn’t returned to the waiting room. It is just my mother and I. Neither of us speak. My mother flips casually through magazines that are strewn around the room and I continue to pace.

After what feels like hours, John walks out of the ICU. His hair is a complete mess and there are dark circles under his eyes. Time has escaped us and I have no idea whether it is day or night. But seeing John’s face reminds me of how tired I feel.

My mother stands and I walk across the room to join them.

“How is she?” my mother asks.

“She’s still sleeping. Although she did open her eyes a while ago. I’m going to stay here with her tonight.” John looks at my mother. “Connie, do you think you can pick up the kids and stay with them at our house? I want them to sleep in their own beds tonight.”

“Of course, John. What should I tell them?”

He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “Just tell them that Gwen’s sick and she has to stay the night in the hospital. I don’t want to tell them too much until we know more. Once she’s awake, I know that she’ll want to see the kids. Maybe you can bring them into the city tomorrow.”

“Alright,” my mother says and then she wraps her arms around John. He hugs her back. “Make sure you get some rest, John, and some food. You need your strength.”

“Mother, I can call Ben to drive you back to Seaport in my car.”

“Okay, Charlotte.”

“And John, why don’t I sit with Gwen for awhile so you can get something to eat,” I offer.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, nodding his head repeatedly, looking every bit lost and unsure of basic human needs, like eating.

I dig my phone out of my purse and text Ben. He responds right away, letting me know that he’s at his friend’s apartment just a few blocks away and will be here shortly and that he would be happy to drive my mom back to Seaport.

I wait with my mother until Ben arrives, while John goes back to Gwen’s room.

“Hey, I got here as soon as I could,” Ben says as he walks into the waiting room, cheeks flushed as if he ran all the way here.

“Thank you for doing this,” I say. I hand Ben my car keys and my mother gathers her things.

“Hello, Ben,” my mother says, rubbing her hand down his arm while she cradles her purse in her other arm like a baby. “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t get a chance to thank you earlier for getting Charlotte here safely.”

“It was no problem, Ms. Brant,” Ben responds with his dimpled smile. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” my mother says and then turns to me and pulls me into an embrace. This time I hug her back and I feel her almost melt into me.

“See you in the morning, Charlotte. Take care of John and call me if there’s any news.”

“I will. Bye Mom. Thanks again, Ben.” I raise my hand to wave goodbye, but Ben pulls me against him instead and I close my eyes, trying to draw from his strength.

“Bye,” he whispers into my ear and kisses me tenderly on the cheek. And then they both leave.

I push through the double doors and find room number three. I walk through an open door, all glass, and pull back a privacy curtain that reveals my sister or someone who resembles her. Her unconscious body lies still and quiet as if she is just sleeping, so small and frail, drowning in a sea of tubes, wires, and pale blue fabric. Gwen’s skin is colorless, ashen white. Her hair damp and matted against her head. It is jarring to see her appearance anything less than perfect. Her face is covered with an oxygen mask, thick green straps stretch across her cheeks to secure it in place. A machine is beeping continuously yet fading into the background against the wild beat of my heart. Several IV bags are hanging nearby, a maze of tubes running into one single line that drains into the vein in Gwen’s arm. It’s a dreary sight that instantly weighs on my heart. My attention turns to John, where he’s sitting in a chair pushed up to the edge of the hospital bed, as close as it could possibly get. He’s bent over with his head resting on Gwen’s side.

“John,” I whisper, taking slow, tentative steps into the room.

“Oh, hey,” he says, sitting up and stretching his arms.

“Go eat. I’ll stay here until you get back,” I say around the lump in my throat.

“Alright, but call me if she wakes up,” he says. He leans over, kisses Gwen’s hand and whispers, “I’ll be right back, Gwen.” And then he stands and walks out of the room, leaving me in the still, eerie silence.

I sit down and reach for Gwen’s cold hand. Tears sting my eyes and rather than fight them, I surrender. Sobs rack my body and I lay my cheek down on Gwen’s arm.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for the awful things I said. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should have been there. Please be okay. Please be okay...” I repeat until my voice trails off.



I wake up with a jolt to find John gently shaking my shoulder. I fell asleep in the chair, bent over with my head resting on Gwen’s bed.

“Hey,” he says. “You should go home and get some rest. I’m going to need you tomorrow.”

I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. Glancing at Gwen, I reach over and squeeze her hand.

“Are you going to be okay?” I ask John. I feel so guilty for not telling him, for how he must feel right now. Everything is crashing down on him all at once. I don’t want to leave him here all alone.