Chapter 5

The waiting room of the hospital, crowded with friends and family, began to close in on me. I got up out of my chair and went into the hall. I decided I wanted to be outside. I ended up in the park across from the hospital.

Mrs. Adkins, a nurse had revived me out of my faint with some smelling salts that she kept in her purse. She had then helped me take a cold shower. When we had reached the hospital, Mom and I had held onto each other for ten minutes and then other people began to arrive. I had ended up in a chair next to the door. Brad had gone out to get me a soda, but I went ahead and left the hospital.

Joyie had wanted to come with me, but I had told her I needed to be alone and asked her to come and get me when Dad came out of surgery. Thing was, I wasn't sure he was going to come out of surgery.

During his first year as a police officer, Dad had arrested Mr. Hanover for attempted murder. Mr. Hanover had been paroled four weeks ago and had died from a massive heart attack within two weeks -- two weeks before his fiftieth wedding anniversary. And today, the day of the anniversary, his widow had taken out her grief and rage. Dad had stepped out of the station, on his way to meet Mom for lunch, and Mrs. Hanover had shot him twice in the chest. I was asking God why the hell he couldn't take me when Brad ruffled my bangs and plopped down on the bench beside me.

"He's not going to die," he said gently. "Your Mom hasn't given him permission."

I giggled and tears began streaming down my cheeks. Seconds later I was sobbing and he pulled me into his arms. I was hurting all over and felt like I'd never be able to stop, but, finally, something inside me had enough. I started taking deep breaths.

He handed me a handkerchief and while I dried my face, he said, "Last year, Granddad Mobley had his third heart attack in a year and the news wasn't good. I ran out of the hospital in Memphis in the middle of the night and ended up in a park where I kicked a bench and banged up my ankle really bad." He grinned. "It's a wonder I didn't have to have it amputated. Anyway, I sat down on the bench I'd just kicked and ended up being held by this bag lady while I bawled my eyes out about my granddad dying. We talked for I don't know how long and when I got up to leave she gave me a flannel shirt that had belonged to her son who died from Leukemia when he was my age fifteen years ago. It's the blue one that's folded on the window seat in my room."

I rested my head on his shoulder and we watched two toddlers chasing bubbles for several minutes before I decided I needed to go back to Mom.

When we got back inside, I went over to her and sat down in the floor and placed my head on her lap.

"You okay, Baby?" she asked, kissing my cheek.

I nodded. "I just needed some air. Brad said Daddy's going to be okay because you haven't given him permission to die."