Not Pretending Anymore(39)

It was a little strange to show off a picture of your school-age daughter who’d wet herself, but I understood why he did it. “He loves your smile in the photo, and it reminds him of good times.”

She sighed. “Yeah…I guess so.”

Setting the photo back on top of the dresser, she shook her head, looking through the others on display. She picked up one of her wearing scrubs and a stethoscope.

“This is my nursing-school graduation picture. I didn’t give him this. My mother must have sent it to him.”

“Well, it looks like he’s proud of you, if he framed it.”

Molly’s face became solemn as she ran her finger along the edge of the frame. “I didn’t even invite him. My mother told me it was the right thing to do, but I felt like inviting him was some sort of disrespect to her. He’s missed so many things in my and my sister’s lives because we couldn’t forgive him for leaving us.”

“Don’t do that, Moll. Don’t put that on yourself. You were hurt and had your reasons. We can’t change the past, but we can learn from it. You’re here for him now, and I’m sure that means a lot to him.”

She smiled halfheartedly. “Thanks.”

After she packed a bag and collected some toiletries, we headed down the hall to the stairs. But as she took the first step, she stopped and backed up. “Hang on a second. I want to see something.”

I followed as she walked back to a door we’d just passed. She opened it and flicked the lights on. The bedroom was decked out in a pink comforter and had pink-and-white-striped window treatments. It was neat, but sort of barren.

“Is this your half-sister’s room?”

She shook her head. “Her room is down the hall. This was supposed to be my room. I was sixteen when he bought this place. He brought me over to show it to me, and this room had been all set up, just like this. I never stayed in it, but it looks like he hasn’t changed anything over the years.”

“Wow. I guess he never stopped hoping you might come spend time here.”

“Yeah.” She sighed, flicked off the light, and shut the door. But she held onto the handle with her head down. “I’m glad I came here tonight.”

I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m glad I came, too…Molly P. Corrigan.”

She turned around with her face all wrinkled. “P? My middle name is Caroline.”

I wiggled my eyebrows. “Not anymore. From now on, it’s Molly Pee-Pee Pants Corrigan.”

She rolled her eyes, but smirked. “God, you’re such a two-year-old.”

“Maybe. But at least I’m potty-trained.”

***

It was four in the morning by the time Molly came back to the waiting room this time. Her dad had been admitted to the intensive care unit, and I’d dozed off in the waiting room down the hall.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” She pointed to the snack machines lined up along the far side of the room. “I’m so thirsty and wanted to get a water.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I wasn’t really sleeping. Just resting my eyes.”

She smiled. Taking two bills out of her wallet, she fed them into the vending machine and bought herself a bottle of Poland Spring. “You want something?”

“No, thanks. I already ate two bags of hot fries, some Twizzlers, and a peanut chew that I’m pretty sure took out one of my fillings.”

Molly sat down in the chair next to me. “They’re helping him get changed. I figured I’d give him some privacy and let him sleep for a while. Rounds in ICU usually start about seven o’clock. It’s so late already; there’s almost no point in going home now. I want to be here to talk to the doctors when they come through.”

“So we’ll stay. These seats are pretty comfy.”

“You should go, Declan. You have to work in a few hours. I can Uber home when I’m ready to go.”

I shrugged. “Nah. I can juggle around my schedule. I don’t need to be anywhere at a certain time.”

Molly’s eyes stopped on the end table next to me and widened. “What did you do?”

I’d forgotten all about my project. Lifting the large Styrofoam cup I’d gotten from a nearby nurses’ station, I handed her the snack I’d prepared for her. “Only the reds for my little pee-pee girl.”

She looked inside the cup. “Where did you get these?”

I lifted my chin toward the snack machine, which I’d drained of every last bag of M&Ms. “They sold them in the machine.”

“There had to be ten bags of M&Ms to get this many reds. And where did the other colors go?”

“Thirteen, actually.” I rubbed my stomach. “And don’t worry, no unacceptable colors were harmed during the process. I put them all to good use—though my stomach might disagree right about now. You know, it’s a good thing these machines take credit cards. A buck seventy-five for one bag of candy? What a rip-off.”

Molly just kept looking at me.

“What?” I wiped at my face. “Did I drool on myself during my cat nap?”

She shook her head. “No. You’re fine. It’s just… Why exactly did you buy all these and do this?”

I didn’t understand the question. “What do you mean? Because you like to eat one color. Why else would I do it?”