Chapter Seventeen
Jay
We take the train to Brooklyn, and Jordan leads me to a cute neighborhood with family homes on tree-lined streets. He tells me about growing up here as we walk, and I can picture it. Kids are still running the sidewalks and riding bikes.
“This is me,” he says, pointing to a little brick house with a front porch and purple flowers lining the beds.
“It’s adorable!” I exclaim, and I mean it. It’s charming and sweet, and it feels like a part of him. So, of course, I’m going to love it.
Love him.
The words play over in my head as he takes my hand and leads me inside.
“Pop, we’re here!” he shouts in way of greeting.
We walk down a short hallway, and he stops to kiss his fingers, touching them to a picture hanging on the wall. It’s of a beautiful dark-haired woman, who I know instantly is Jordan’s mom. Beautiful high cheekbones, straight nose and a small dimple.
“You look just like her,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Wait until you see my dad.” He kisses the top of my head, and we walk through the kitchen and out onto a back patio.
“Pop!” Jordan yells as we step out.
All at once the mood changes from happy to panicked. Jordan’s father is slumped over in his seat with blood on his head. We both rush to him, and all hell breaks loose.
“Call 911,” Jordan says, and I do it without hesitation.
My hands are shaky as I hold the phone, and Jordan starts CPR on his father. The operator is in my ear, but it’s all a blur. I have to ask Jordan for the address and then shout it into the phone and tell them to hurry.
Panic is rushing through me, and my heart is breaking as I watch Jordan work on him. He’s counting out the beats, and I’m praying like I’ve never prayed before that help gets here in time.
This isn’t supposed to be happening. This can’t be real.
Before I know what’s going on, the ambulance is here and they’re telling Jordan to get out of the way. I hold on to him with all my strength so that the medics can get to his dad and help save his life. Jordan has done all he can do, and it’s in their hands now.
“We’ve got a pulse!” one of them shouts, and I thank God.
They bring in a stretcher and then carry him out in a blur. Everything is happening so fast. I hold on to Jordan’s hand as we follow them. Jordan climbs into the back of the ambulance and holds his hand out to me.
“Only one family member,” the medic says, looking at me as they load up.
“Go. I’ll lock up the house and be right behind you,” I say.
I see the torn look in his eyes, and I want to go with him, but I can’t.
“Right behind you,” I say again, and he nods.
There’s fear like I’ve never seen in his eyes, and I pray again that everything will be okay. I watch for a second as they pull away and listen to the sirens blare.
I run back into the house and make sure everything is turned off. There was a pot on the stove, so I’m glad I came back in. I straighten up the back porch in case Jordan comes back here later. I don’t want him to have to take care of it.
It’s then I realize that the chair was still sitting up when we came in. I had assumed Jordan’s father had hit his head, but how could he have done that if he was still in his chair? It all happened so fast that now I’m not able to recall the detail properly. Maybe I’m misremembering...
After I’ve double-checked everything, I lock up the house and flag down a cab. I tell the driver the name of the hospital the medic said they were going to and text Jordan that I’m on the way.
Me: In the cab. Be there soon.
Jordan: I’m in the waiting room. They’re in the back working on him.
Me: Do you need me to get anything for you on the way?
Jordan: No. I just need you. Hurry.
Me: I’m almost there.
I toss an extra twenty at the cab driver to speed it up, but he’s still not going as fast as I need him to. Although he is breaking the speed limit and most traffic laws.
We pull up in the parking lot, and I jump out while the cab is still moving. I run inside and see Jordan pacing. He stops when he sees me and runs to me, wrapping me up in his arms.
“Is he okay? What’s happening?”
“The doctor came out and said he has a severe concussion. They’re going to put him into an induced coma until some of the swelling goes down.”
“Oh God, Jordan, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“I just want to see him. They said I can go back, but I was waiting for you.”
“Go ahead. Don’t wait for me. I’ll be right here when you come out.”
He shakes his head. “I need you.”
His voice and his eyes are filled with a desperate plea.
“I’m right here. Anything you need. I’m not going anywhere.” I squeeze his hands in mine, and he nods.
We walk down a quiet hallway, and the nurses at the end speak to us before we go in. They tell us to be quiet and that we can only stay for a few minutes. He’s in ICU, but he’s stable, and they’ll monitor him overnight and see how the swelling progresses. We can touch his hand and talk to him, but don’t touch anything else. We agree, and they show us to a private area, with the curtains pulled around to block out the surrounding bustle.
Jordan’s hand squeezes mine as we walk closer.
His father looks small and frail in the bed, hooked up to so many machines. Jordan must be having the same thoughts, because I see his face turn white.
I decide to help calm him and step up to his dad, taking his hand in mine. “Hey, Mr. Chen. It’s not so great meeting like this. But I’m glad you’re still with us and that I finally get a chance to say hello. Jordan made me pick out your scratch-off this week, so if it’s not a winner, that’s my fault. And he says you’ll never let me forget it.”
I look up to Jordan and see his eyes are red, but his tears are unshed.
“I made pecan pie because he said it was your favorite. I don’t know how good it is. Don’t worry. I’ll save you a slice. You know how Jordan can be when it comes to food.” I wink at him, and he smiles at me. “Anyway, we’ll let you get some rest. We’ll be back as soon as the nurses say it’s okay, and then we’ll check that ticket. I think I’m pretty lucky, since I managed to get this guy to ask me out.”
I squeeze his hand one last time and step aside for Jordan to hold it now. He does, and I stand right behind him with my hand on his back.
“Pop,” he says, and then stops. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Don’t you dare do this to me. You get some sleep and then come back to me.”
He takes my hand and places it on top of their joined ones. The three of us are in one hold.
“I love you,” he whispers, and in that moment it feels like he’s saying it to both of us.