KASEY

There’s too much noise in the waiting room, but not enough to stop the panic attack ensuing from all the thoughts. 

Rosie is sitting next to me, her body too still. She’s not fidgeting like I am. My knees are bouncing, my nails are all chewed down, and my eyes are shooting around the room every time a doctor walks by, while she just sits like a statue. 

Jake has been in the operating room for almost two hours. He was shot once in the chest, and once in the back. One bullet went right through. The other is lodged in between two ribs.

Critical condition was thrown around.

Against the odds was used once.

Extensive blood loss.

Blood transfusion. 

Rose puts her hand on my knee to stop it from moving. She’s staring at nothing, her eyes clouded over as the minutes tick by.

Chief Daniell told us that there was a report of somebody breaking into Mom’s house. There was one officer watching over the property in case her boyfriend came back, since he was the one who supposedly supplied the drugs. But since I couldn’t find it in me to believe anything Mom said anymore, who knows what to believe?

It’s why I decided that I wouldn’t bother seeing her again. Not during her trial. Not for visitation. She doesn’t deserve my time anymore, because she’s wasted enough of it.

Either way, her sleazy boyfriend went back for the drugs, and brought a gun to greet anybody who tried stopping him. I assume the call Jake got when he dropped me off earlier was for backup at the house.

Jake was shot because of my mother.

All I could wrap my head around was one thing. “It’s my fault, Rosie.”

“Hush, Kasey.”

“Rose—”

“You didn’t pull the trigger. Some deranged man did.”

I close my eyes, and put my face in my hands without saying anything else.

“Listen to me, and listen to me good,” she says in a ghostly tone. “I have never been a fan of your mother. I haven’t liked what she’s done, and what she continued to do. But even now, with my only son laying on that surgical table, I don’t hate her. Or blame her. How could I possible blame you if I don’t blame the person who brought that man into our lives?”

I peel my face from my hands, and stare blankly at her. 

“How?” I ask. “How can you not blame her?”

Her smile is empty. “Blame isn’t going to take back what happened. Jake will still be on that table if I did. So why put all my energy in blaming somebody, when I can put my energy into praying for something positive.”

I put my hand on hers, not saying a word.

We sit like that for another forty minutes before anybody comes to see us. 

And when they do, their face says it all.

“Mrs. Caldwell,” the white-haired doctor calls, voice grim.

My heart is pounding so fast it hurts.

“He’ll be awake soon, but … there’s too much damage. The bullet couldn’t be retrieved, and his levels weren’t strong enough to continue the operation. We had to stop before it was too late.”

Rose took a deep breath. “What does that mean exactly?”

“It means that he doesn’t have long. He may not even wake up. We’re making sure that he’s comfortable, but that’s the best we can do for now.”

A single tear escapes her eye.

“You couldn’t save him?” I whisper.

The doctor turns to me. “Miss, we did all we could. But … I’m sorry, we had to make a choice.”

A choice.

Life is all about choices, and everybody has to make them. 

I can’t imagine having to make that one. To end somebody’s life. 

I let out a frail breath. “A choice.” I nod. “I guess we all have to do that sometimes, right? I made a choice. He made a-a choice. And then you guys.”

“Kasey,” Rose says lightly.

My breathing hitches, and everything inside of me drains. Feelings. Thoughts. Emotions. 

All of it gone. 

Numbed.

I stare at the doctor. “Can we see him?”  

He looks between us. “Usually we only allow one person in at a time in the ICU, but yes. You can both go in.”

Usually, but not now. Because now is different. Jake is dying. Not getting better.

The doctor steps back, giving us one last sympathetic glance. “I’m very sorry to the both of you.”

He’s sorry.

He’s sorry, but not for our loss. Because Jake isn’t dead yet.

Yet. 

Yet.

Yet.

Rosie stands, pulling me with her.

Silently, we follow the doctor to the room that Jake was taken to. 

I can see Rose hold her breath when she walks in. I see why. Jake is paler than he has ever been. His skin appears almost ghostly. He’s got a tube in his mouth, wires hooked up to him, and needles sticking in his arms.

Her hand squeezes mine.

Neither of us say a word. The doctor leaves us alone with him۫ not another word spoken as he closes the door.

Rosie let’s go of my hand and slowly walks over to her son.

I can’t truly imagine what she’s going through. First, she lost her husband to cancer. Now Jake to a druggie with a gun. I’ve never lost anyone to death, and she lost her whole family to it.

“Oh, baby,” she breathes, wrapping her hands around his.

I stay by the door, listening to the machines beeping. Staring at the numbers rising and falling on the different screens. 

I can hear distant murmurs from in the hall, and from other rooms.

I want silence. 

I want peace.

It goes on like that for an hour. Me wanting things to be different than they are, and not getting it. Because no matter how bad I want control, I can’t always get it.

Some things are beyond me.

The doctor comes in after more time passes. It feels like an eternity, but it’s only been another fifteen minutes. He goes over Jake’s vitals, his lips pressed tightly together. 

He tells us some of them are improving, while others aren’t. He leaves after giving Jake a new IV bag. 

Rose gasps when Jake’s eyes flutter open five minutes later. 

“Baby?” She bolts up.

He murmurs something, his voice raspy. I can’t hear what he says from where I’m standing. I move closer, but only by a few inches.

“Sweetie, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can.”

He squeezes her hand.

“Thank God,” she whispers, voice shaken.

He murmurs something that sounds like, “Not deaf.”

A laugh bubbles from me.

Even Rose chuckles. “Good to know your sense of humor isn’t damaged.”

He tries to laugh, but winces in pain.

She pats her hand. “None of that, sweet boy. You need to take it easy. Okay?”

Her mumbles something.

She leans in. “What?”

My lips part and my eyes go wide when he says, “Kas-ey.”

Rosie turns to look at me.

Slowly, I make my way toward them.

Jake moves his head so he’s watching me. A small smile curves his lips. I can’t help but smile back, knowing he’s mustering what little energy he has to just to be here.

He tries picking his head up, but I shake my head, resting it back down. He moves his hands, one holding onto his Mom, the other me.

“Tube,” he murmurs.

“Tube?” 

I look at the only tube near him, and I’m pretty sure it’s currently helping him breathe.

“That needs to stay in,” I tell him sadly. 

He closes his eyes for a brief moment. 

“Baby?” Rose asks, voice filled with concern. The monitors start making weird noises. 

“Jake?” I squeak.

He opens his eyes. “Pa-per.”

Paper?

Thankfully, Rose know what he needs. She grabs a pad of paper from the table, and takes a pen from her purse.

We let go of his hands as he takes the items. He doesn’t have a tight hold on them, but he makes do.

It takes him a few minutes, but he finally puts the items down. His eyes meet mine, then go down to the paper.

“Jake,” I whisper. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

He gives me another smile. It’s tired. Dull. But it says so much about what he’s trying to prove to us. 

He’s strong. He’s fighting.

I gather enough courage to peer down at what he scrawled across the notepad.

Don’t be sad. I’m lucky enough to know what it’s like to be loved by you. Even if it’s not the love I always expected.

I look at him, tears in my eyes.

“I’ll always love you,” I whisper, fighting off tears.

He tips his head in acknowledgment.

Rose takes a feeble breath in, reading the note. Grasping my hand, she entwines our fingers together.

“You’re loved by so many people,” Rose tells him, trying to keep her voice strong. I can see she’s slowly crumbling—seeing exactly what I’m seeing.

Jake’s life draining from his eyes.

The machines start making noise.

He mumbles out an, “I. Know.”

Rose’s grip on my hand hurts, but the pain brings some reality into this moment. It makes me feel. It makes this real.

Jake’s eyes meet mine, lingering for only a short moment before drifting closed.

The heart monitor flatlines.