All We Can Do Is Wait(33)

Jason felt a sudden protectiveness over his sister. He wasn’t used to seeing her like this, retreated and scared. Maybe this was an opportunity, for Jason to make up for all the times when he should have stepped up, should have been there for his sister. He could do something.

The woman. The hospital woman. How long had it been since they’d brought in the first patients? Twenty, thirty minutes? She must know something. Jason was going to be useful.

“Hey,” he said again to the tall girl, Morgan. “What’s the lady’s name again, the hospital lady?”

Morgan took a few timid steps toward him. “Um, it’s Mary. She’s Patient Services.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Can you come talk to her with me? I need to ask her about my parents, but I’m not really sure what to ask her. You know, like, specifically.”

Morgan seemed to think this over for a second before giving a quick nod. “Yeah. She’s over there. You just have to . . . I’ll tell her I know you. She knows me.”

They walked over to Mary Oakes, who was cradling a phone under her chin. She saw Morgan, looked a little surprised, then held up a finger, asking her to wait.

“Uh huh, uh huh, it’s looking like forty to fifty, yes, that’s the latest we’ve heard, I don’t know, Dan, it’s not like—Yes, I understand, we’re already almost at full—No, of course, I understand. O.K., thank you, Dan.”

She hung up the phone. “Morgan. You’re still here.” Still here? Of course she was still here, Jason wanted to say. We’re all still here.

Morgan nodded quickly, “Yeah, uh, this is . . .”

Jason realized he’d never told her his name. “I’m Jason, Jason Elsing. I think my sister, Alexa, asked you about my parents, Linda and Theo . . . uh, Theodore Elsing?”

Mary shot a look at Morgan, like it was her fault that this dumb kid was bothering her. She turned to Jason. “I’m sure she did, but unfortunately at this time there is only so much we’re able to tell the families. If you speak with the nurses and give them your parents’ names, they will update you as soon as they know something concrete. As you can see, right now we’re really trying to focus all our energy and attention on the victims—on the patients.”

She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “In the meantime, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. I’m sorry there isn’t more I can tell you. And Morgan, you should have someone come get you. Is there someone who can pick you up?”

Morgan shook her head. “No, I want to be here.”

Mary Oakes sighed, nodded. “Well, do what you want, of course. But you’ll have to excuse me now, I have about a hundred more phone calls to make.” She picked the phone back up and turned away from them. Morgan looked at Jason and shrugged. They stood there for a second, not really sure what to do, Jason feeling like he’d already failed at his half-assed attempt to take some of the burden off his sister.

“Hey,” Morgan said, sounding a little sheepish, maybe feeling bad that she couldn’t help more. “Do you maybe want to, like, go outside, get some air?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Jason said, feeling defeated.

Morgan smiled a little, a hint of crooked teeth, and nodded her head toward the door. They made their way through the crowd, not saying “Excuse me,” just pushing through, and then finally they were outside, where the rain had let up and the air felt wonderfully crisp and bracing.

Morgan reached into her pocket and pulled out a small electronic cigarette. She took a drag off it, releasing out a cloud of vapor, which rose up and mingled with the rest of the wet air. Jason laughed, those things always looking so silly. But when Morgan held it out to Jason, he looked at it a little quizzically before taking a long drag himself, his lungs feeling cold and tingly. He handed it back to her, and they stood there for a moment in silence, Morgan taking another drag, the noise of the hospital wafting out in intervals as the doors slid open and shut.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help more,” Morgan said after a while. “She’s kind of a bitch, Mary. I mean, she’s fine. She’s helped out me and my dad a lot. But her, um, what’s the thing, with doctors, like bed manners.”

“Bedside manner.”

“Yeah. She’s not great at that.”

A weird thought burbled up in Jason’s mind. “She kinda reminds me of my mom, actually.”

Morgan laughed, then, realizing who she was laughing about, abruptly halted herself. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s O.K. It’s not a bad thing, not really.”

Morgan nodded and they stood in silence for a while longer. Jason rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, let out a long, slow sigh. “Man. This blows.”

Morgan laughed again, louder this time, a chortling bark of a sound. “It certainly fucking does.” She had a thick Boston accent, but not the fake kind you’d see in bad movies about Southie. The real kind, the kind with melody, and grace. It reminded Jason of Kyle, the way he had said certain words: clipped, hushed, elided.

Before he could stop himself, Jason said, “You remind me of my boyfriend.”

Morgan looked a little surprised, but absorbed this new information in stride. “He’s tall too?”

Jason laughed, shook his head. “No. Just your accent and, I dunno, something else. He was . . .”