Текст книги "Paper Thin"

Автор книги: Jennifer Snyder

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“WHAT HAPPENED?” SADIE ASKED. I shook my head, because I didn’t know. I’d asked, but Dawson hadn’t given me an answer.

“Dawson. What happened?” I tried again. My throat was closing up. It was hard for me to get words out, but I needed an answer. “Dawson? Is Emma okay?” Icicles of panic stabbed through me.

“She…her car…I can’t believe this is happening.” His voice was muffled, but I could still hear his heartache. It made the fear weighing my thoughts down spread. “She hydroplaned and hit a guardrail on highway twenty-eight.”

My hand flew to my mouth as my mind jumped to the worst-case scenario. “But she’s okay, right? Dawson, tell me she’s okay!” I was losing it. I needed answers. I needed him to stop being so damn cryptic, and spit it all out. Now!

“No. I mean yes, but not really. They flew her to Easton.” He sighed, but it caught in his throat and twisted into something agonizing. My heart stopped while I waited for him to clarify. “She’s alive, but in a medically induced coma. They said the pain would be too much right now. There are things they have to fix first before they bring her out.”

“A coma.” My vision blurred and became distorted, causing me to feel as though I was in a tunnel.

“She’s in a coma? Oh my God, Charlotte. I’m so sorry.” Sadie jerked her car into park and threw her arms around me.

“But she’s going to be okay, right?” I somehow managed to ask Dawson. Sadie let go of me, and I fell back against the seat, my body limp as I waited for his answer.

“They don’t know. I don’t know.” He sniffled, and I wondered why I wasn’t crying yet. I should be. My sister had been in a horrible car accident. I should be crying, but I wasn’t. “They said they won’t know for sure until she wakes.”

Until she wakes. When would that be? My mind formed the words, but they never made it to my lips. Instead, something else came rushing out. “I have to go home. I have to see her.” I didn’t know who I was talking to—myself, Sadie, Dawson. I only knew I needed to be there.

“Not tonight.” Sadie’s voice was firm. “You’ve been drinking. You can leave in the morning.”

I heard Sadie, but a frantic sensation coursed through me as another thought hit me. “Was Mom in the car with her?”

“No. She was home with me. Emma had run to the store real quick.”

Relief flooded me. “Thank God.”

“I didn’t mean to call so many times. I just thought you should know,” Dawson choked out. “I’m really glad she forgot to take her phone. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had a way to get a hold of you.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” The words came out automatically. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know if the doctors tell me anything more.”

“Okay.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.” I hung up. My heart started back, but my lungs still refused to pull in air. I couldn’t breathe. How could Emma have been in a car accident? I’d just talked to her a few hours ago. She had been fine, and now she wasn’t. She was lying in a hospital bed, locked in a deep sleep controlled by doctors.

How was any of this real?

“Are you okay?” Sadie’s voice was small.

I shook my head, and tears fell from my eyes. I wasn’t okay, and if my sister didn’t make it through this, I never would be again.

A light tapping on the driver’s side window startled us both. It was Thresh. Sadie rolled down her window.

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you two still coming? I noticed you sort of moved your car, but not all the way.” There was concern in his words.

“No. Not tonight. Umm.” Sadie paused. I wondered if it was because she didn’t want me to hear her explanation, or if she was unsure that she could word the reason why we weren’t coming without choking up.

“Okay. Is everything all right?” Thresh seemed confused.

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” I heard Johnny ask.

“They aren’t coming,” Thresh replied.

“What? Why?”

I sank down into my seat and buried my face in my hands. The sound of Sadie’s door opening caught my attention. I felt her slip out of the car.

“Char just found out her sister was in a really bad car accident. I think I’m going to take her home, and sit with her tonight.” Her words crushed me with their weight. “Rain check?”

“Absolutely.” Thresh was quick to say.

“Sure, yeah. No problem,” Johnny added. “Is there anything we can do?” I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or still directing his words to Sadie. Either way, I didn’t look up. Emotions were pulling me in all different directions as scary questions about the future pelted me.

“I don’t think so,” Sadie answered. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She climbed back into the car, and drove us back to the dorms. I sobbed the entire ride.

“Why hasn’t he called yet?” I glanced at my cell for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“He will.” Sadie placed a hand on my knee. “When he knows something.”

“I should pack up and head there now. I’m sure I could make it before sunrise.” It was one in the morning. I could be there by seven on the dot, maybe earlier since Easton was an hour closer to me than Parish Cove.

“Char, you’re too upset to be behind the wheel. Plus, you haven’t gotten any sleep.”

I set my cell down. “I can’t sleep. My head is swimming with scary what-if questions.” I ran my hands through my hair, ready to pull it all out if my mind didn’t shut up.

“I’m sure.” She crossed over to her bed. “But, if you plan on making that drive, you have got to at least get some sleep.”

She was right. I knew she was, but the itching sensation spreading through urging me to get to my sister’s side was nearly overpowering.

“Just try to close your eyes for a little while.” She yawned. “There’s nothing you can do for Emma right now. If something happens, or if Dawson hears anything, I’m sure he won’t waste any time calling to fill you in.” Her words grated on my nerves.

“Okay, you want sleep. I get it,” I snapped as I slipped beneath my covers.

“I’m not trying to be rude or insensitive. I’m just telling you the truth.” I could tell from her tone she was taken aback by my harshness.

“I know,” I said in a softer tone. “I’m just scared and worried.” I flipped over onto my side as more tears slipped from my eyes.

“You have every right to be. Hell, I would be too, but there’s nothing you can do for her right now.”

“Turn out the light. Let’s try to get some sleep,” I whispered.

“Okay.” She flipped the switch to the lamp on our shared desk. “Night, Char. I’ll pray for Emma.”

That was all it took for my body to be wracked with silent sobs. My sister shouldn’t be in a position where she needed anyone’s prayers. She should be safely tucked in her bed at home. She was newly engaged, an awesome second grade teacher, and did a hell of a job caring for our mother. There was no reason for her to be lying in a hospital bed, unconscious.

What if she didn’t pull through this? How would I survive?

Guilt slapped me in the face for never making an effort to grow our relationship. We should be closer than we were. I should have tried more to be a part of her life. I should have been a better sister to her. Now I might never get the chance.

The walls of the dorm closed in on me as that last thought resonated deep within me, laying down roots.

Sleep came, but not as easily as it had for Sadie. I’d heard her breathing level out twenty minutes after the light was turned off. I hoped sleep would have served as an escape from this nightmare, but it was more torture.

Nightmares of my sister’s accident plagued me. I could see everything happen in slow motion while I stood on the side of the street, unable to do anything to stop it. All I could do in the dream was cry and shout for her to watch out.

When I woke my cheeks were stained with tears. I kicked off the sheets and blankets, and forced myself to sit up in bed. It took half a second for me to realize there had been some reality to the dream. The conversation with Dawson came rushing back. I reached for my phone, hoping for something from him. Nothing. No new text messages. No missed calls. Nothing. How could he still know nothing?

Any news? ~ Charlotte

He didn’t respond. I wondered if he was sleeping, or talking to one of the doctors.

I flung my covers back, and crossed the room to grab my suitcase still propped against the wall. There hadn’t been enough time to unpack. I tossed out all my dirty clothes and threw them on my bed. With my toiletries still inside, all I had to do was cram in some clean clothes. I grabbed a few pairs of sleep shorts, clean underwear, a couple more bras, and two or three clean outfits. I wasn’t sure how long I would be gone for, but I knew it would at least be for few days.

After changing into my favorite pair of black yoga pants, and pulling an oversized sweater over my tank, I twisted my long hair into a loose bun on top of my head while I scanned our desk for a scrap of paper to write on. Finding my stack of blue Post-it notes and a pen, I left Sadie a message telling her not to worry. I’d gotten some sleep last night, and I would call her once I made it to the hospital. I stuck it to the back of our door so she would see it easily, and grabbed my cell, purse, keys, and sunglasses before I opened the door and rolled my suitcase out into the hall. I was ready to get on the road.

My sister needed me, and frankly, I needed to see for myself that her heart was still beating.

I MADE A PIT STOP at the gas station on the corner before hitting the highway. My car needed gas, and I needed something to fuel myself as well. The few hours of restless sleep I managed to get wouldn’t be enough to last me through the drive to Easton. Coffee was a necessity. So was something sweet to eat.

After pumping my gas and buying a large vanilla coffee along with a honey bun, I climbed into my car to get situated for the long stretch of driving. My cell rang before I could even close the door. It was an unknown number calling. My heart leapt to my throat as I stared at the screen. Worries tumbled through my mind. Suddenly, I was petrified something horrible had happened to Emma and it was the hospital calling to tell me. Dawson had given them my number for emergencies, I was sure. The numbers burned into my memory as I stared at them. No. This was a cell number. I could tell from the first three numbers. There was only one person I knew who would be calling me from a Parish Cove cell this early in the morning.

“Hello?” I answered, trying to calm my rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry it took me so long to respond back,” Dawson drawled in my ear. He sounded as tired as I was, his words stretching out in between yawns. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Me either.” I closed the door to my car, and then opened my honey bun. “Any news? How did she do last night?”

“No news yet.” The same disappointment I felt hung in his words. “They did tell me she’s breathing on her own. Said that was a good sign.”

“Good.” If she was breathing on her own, maybe they would wake her soon, and things would be all right.

“You headed here yet?”

“I’m in my car now. Just filled up.” I tore off a small bite of my honey bun and popped it into my mouth. My stomach quickly let me know food was not something it planned on allowing today. Wrapping it back in its wrapper, I set it on my passenger seat. “I should be there around noon-ish.”

“Okay. Drive carefully. I’ll try to see if I can get us some answers before you get here.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

“Yeah.” He hung up, and so did I.

I set my cell in the cup holder, and cranked the engine on my car. A depressing song about holding on played through the speakers. I reached out and changed the station to something a little more upbeat. I needed upbeat. Staying positive was something my sister was always so good at, and it was exactly what I needed to do right now. I couldn’t let my negative thoughts and far-stretched fears get the best of me. I refused to.

After shifting into drive, I pulled away from the station, praying by the time I got to Emma she would be awake and alert.

Everything will be fine, I told myself.

She had to make it through this, because I couldn’t imagine life without her. My throat constricted, and my fingers gripped my steering wheel a little tighter. There was so much she was supposed to do before she left this Earth. She was supposed to marry Dawson. Kids. Emma still needed to have kids. She needed to make me a crazy aunt.

My knuckles turned white as my grip on the wheel tightened even more. The tips of my fingers tingled, and I knew if I let go to flex them they would hurt. More worries crashed around in my mind. What if she made it through this, but she wasn’t the same? What if she stayed a vegetable from head trauma or something? My vision blurred from pooling tears, and I debated pulling over so I could gather myself.

An old Sarah Mclachlan song came on the radio, reminding me of when Emma and I were little. My mind shifted to old memories wrapped up in the song, and I felt myself relax enough to continue.

We had made up dance moves to go along with the song for our mom. I tried to remember why we’d done it, but couldn’t. Maybe there wasn’t a real reason. My mind uprooted more slivers of the memory. As I continued down the long stretch of highway, I let them take over my mind for a while. It was summer. I couldn’t have been older than five, which would have put Emma around eight or nine. If I thought hard enough, I could still hear Emma whispering in my ear she wanted to do something special for Mom. I had agreed, because back then, Emma was who I looked up to. All I wanted to do was be near her, and if making up a dance to one of Mom’s favorite songs was a way to do it, then I was there. No questions asked.

We had spent the majority of the day in Emma’s room—a place I was rarely allowed without causing a fight—listening to the song on repeat, while making up moves to go with each sentence. By the time dinner rolled around, we had a whole routine choreographed and memorized. Emma had dressed us up in similar outfits with matching white tights, and pulled both our hair back into the best bun she could manage. When Mom called us to dinner, she had raced to her and explained we had something special for her while I stood to the side with the portable radio, my finger hovering over play, waiting for her signal.

“Char, hit it,” Emma had yelled to me. I’d pressed the button and started the song I had learned every word to throughout the day. Setting the radio down, I joined Emma in the center of the living room. I could still remember seeing Mom’s lips quirked into a small smile as she watched. We danced our little hearts out during the length of the song, nailing every move Emma had created as we were supposed to. At the end of the song, my heart was pumping fast, but I remember feeling a sense of pride. Emma had looked at me with a wide smile and said, “Good job, Char,” intensifying it.

Until I looked at our mom, and realized she was crying.

We were supposed to make her happy. The song was her favorite, and the dancing was supposed to make it ten times better for her. Instead, we had made her cry. I didn’t understand until I saw her hand pull away from her lips, revealing the smile hiding behind it. I remembered racing Emma to her arms. I remembered Mom telling us she loved our dance, that we were so pretty and graceful.

I wiped my nose on the back of my hand as I changed into the other lane, and set my cruise control at seventy. While I knew I would never have any more memories like that, because there was no way in hell I was dancing to In The Arms Of The Angel again anytime soon, regardless if it was Emma’s idea or not, I still wanted to make happy memories to add to the pile I already had with my sister and mom.

Things had to be okay.

I prayed harder than I never had in my life the remainder of my drive, hoping there was someone listening to my silent pleas, because I needed a miracle. Desperately.

I DROVE STRAIGHT TO the hospital. After finding a parking space, I cut the engine on my car and sat. My heart had already started beating out of my chest, and I hadn’t even stepped inside.

I was here, even though I suddenly didn’t want to be. Fear Emma wouldn’t be okay plummeted me. I was terrified the sight of her lying in a bed would gut me.

Swallowing hard, I reached for my cell, taking another minute out here to send Sadie a text and let her know I made it seemed important. I could do that without feeling guilt for not rushing inside. Couldn’t I?

I wasn’t sure. Guilt was working its way into my mind. Emma wouldn’t have bothered to text anyone. She would have squealed into a parking space and raced inside, frantic until she found me. Why couldn’t I react more like I knew she would? Why did I always have to freeze?

I made it. ~ Charlotte

Sadie responded immediately. I knew she would have her cell in her hand during class, waiting to hear from me.

How is she?

Shame filled me, clawing at my insides, making my heart pound even harder.

I’m still in the parking lot. I haven’t been able to force myself inside yet. ~ Charlotte

Telling her this only made me feel worse. I was a horrible sister.

It will be okay. You need to go inside. Things could have gotten better.

Or they could have gotten worse, I thought.

I don’t know if I can. ~ Charlotte

You can. I know you can. You’ve got this. One foot at a time, Char. Emma needs you.

Emma did need me. I had to pull myself together.

I know. I’m going. ~ Charlotte

Take a deep breath. Everything will be okay. Emma is strong. Text or call me any time. Let me know what happens. I’ve already tracked down your professors and told them everything.

Shit. I’d forgotten about my classes. I’d forgotten about everything.

Thank you, Sadie. I don’t know what I would do without you right now. ~ Charlotte

No problem, sugar. Take care. And don’t worry about calling work either. I’ll let them know what’s going on as well.

She’d thought of everything. I was glad.

Okay, thanks. ~ Charlotte

Taking in another deep breath, I forced myself to open my car door and step out. I put my cell on vibrate, and forced all negative thoughts from my mind as I focused on putting one foot in front of the other like Sadie had said.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called out. Lifting my stare from my shoes, I spotted Dawson leaning against the wall beside the automatic doors to the emergency room. His hands were crammed into the front pockets of his cargo shorts, his hair was ruffled, and his eyes were rimmed with dark circles. He looked about as good as I felt. I took comfort in knowing I had someone to share in my misery with.

“Hi,” I said once I was a few steps away from him. “What are you doing out here?”

“Needed some fresh air.” He pressed the back of his head against the building, and straightened out his arms in front of him. I listened as he inhaled a deep breath, and then slowly blew it out. “I’m glad you’re finally here. Maybe you can get some answers, because those damn doctors won’t tell me a thing.”

“I’m sure I won’t be able to get any more out of them than you, but I’m glad I’m here too.” I wasn’t. How could I be? I didn’t want to have to be here. I wanted to be in class, taking notes or staring at Mr. Morison’s goofy clown shoes. I wanted Emma to be safe and well, doing whatever she would be on a Monday morning. That wasn’t the case though. I was here, at Easton Regional Hospital, and Emma was in a coma somewhere inside. “They really haven’t told you anything more?”

“No.” His tone was sharp and bitter. “They keep telling me her status hasn’t changed.”

This was where Emma would barge inside and demand she be told something if our roles were reversed. I couldn’t bring myself to though. Instead, I needed to wrap my mind around what we knew first.

“What happened? I know you said she hydroplaned and hit the guardrail on highway twenty-eighty.”

I could hear his sharp inhale as he prepared to retell me the story, this time in more detail. I hated seeing him in so much pain, but I needed to know. The desire to prepare myself as best I could for what I would see once I finally made it to her bedside blasted through me.

“She was supposed to make a quick trip to Walmart for a few things.” He brought a hand up and smoothed the area beneath his right eye. “Emma’s tires were bad. I knew they were. I had planned to have new ones put on at the end of the month. Damn it, why didn’t I just go ahead and do it?” He was blaming himself.

“It wasn’t your fault.” My voice was weak and low, because I knew my words wouldn’t bring him any comfort. Once you had it in your head you were responsible for something as horrific as this, nothing anyone said could change your mind.

Dawson shifted his gaze to meet mine. His blue eyes were wild from lack of sleep and guilt swirling within them. “Maybe it was; maybe it wasn’t.” His jaw clenched tight.

I didn’t want to argue with him. I didn’t have the strength. I needed more details of Emma’s accident to paint a picture of the whole scene. “She hydroplaned and crashed into the guardrail. How fast was she going?” The words fell from my lips devoid of emotion.

“The speed limit.” A smirk twisted Dawson’s lips upward. “You know Emma, she never went more than two over the limit.”

I smiled, because my sister was such a goodie-goodie. “I know.”

“Didn’t matter though. She was still going fast enough to hit it and bounce off. The officer said she spun into the other lane and crashed into a semi-truck beside her.”

“So they put her in a medically induced coma. Why?” The question propelled past my lips on its own, even though I knew the reason why. I wasn’t stupid. Her injuries had to have been substantial. After all, she had been taken to Easton Regional by helicopter.

“She wasn’t ejected from the car. She was wearing her seat belt,” Dawson continued. Emma always wore her seat belt. It was the smart thing to do when you were riding in a car. Why was there such turmoil in his words? “They said if she hadn’t been, her injuries would have been less severe.”

I blinked. That couldn’t have been what they said. Seat belts saved lives. They didn’t take them. They didn’t cause injuries to be worse than if the person hadn’t been wearing one. That wasn’t how they worked. “Why would they say that?” Were they even allowed to?

“Because the semi-truck couldn’t stop in time. It crushed the driver’s side of her car.” I could tell the words were painful for him to say, but they were even more painful to hear. “They said if she hadn’t been wearing her seat belt, she would have been ejected when she hit the guardrail.”

“And things would have been better for her then?” I didn’t understand. Who the hell did they think they were being so damn presumptuous? “As opposed to what?” My voice shook as erratic anger bubbled through me.

Dawson peeled away from the wall, and ran his hands though his hair. “She broke her back in five places. I can’t remember all the different T numbers they spouted off to me, but I know breaking your back in general isn’t a good thing, let alone breaking it in five places. Something is messed up with her spinal cord, and she had a lot of bruising of her internal organs.” His voice was low and steady, unlike the way I was sure mine would be if I were having to explain my sister’s detailed state. “She’s got some broken ribs, her right leg was shattered, and her head was gashed open from something.”

His words wrapped around my lungs, squeezing the air from them, and making it nearly impossible for me to breathe. It sounded as though my sister was broken beyond repair.

“I know this is a lot to take in at once, but Emma wouldn’t want us focusing on the bad,” he insisted. “She would want us to think positive for her.” His words were low and hollow, making me wonder if he felt the impossibility of what he was asking.

“How can I?” I voiced the question burning through my head as my eyes filled with tears.

“It’s okay.” Dawson wrapped me in his arms, pulling me against his solid chest. The physical contact made the tears slip from my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much I needed someone to hold me. My stomach clenched as the grief I was feeling powered through me. “You can do this, Charlotte. I know you can. You’re as strong as she is. We both are. And, she’s going to need us both to get through this.” His words rumbled through his chest, making his body vibrate against mine.

We remained locked in one another’s arms for longer than we probably should, riding the waves of grief as they crashed into us one right after the other. Emma had been in a car accident. This was real.