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“What’s in the bags, Peanut?” Papa asks as soon as I walk into the room. He’s out of bed and sitting on the small sofa.
“Did they say you can be out of bed?” I ask, concerned.
“Yes. I told you I’m good, really good.”
“He worried them nurses until they let him get up,” Nana says while shaking her head. She’s sitting up in her bed. “Please tell me that’s food. That lunch they brought us was bland. I can only imagine what dinner’s gonna look like.”
“It’s good food. I stopped at the diner,” I say as I walk over to her. After placing the bag on her bedside table, I remove the first container and walk it over to Papa. “Your meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and skillet corn,” I tell him as I hand him the food. “There’s a slice of lemon cake in the bag too.”
“Thank you, baby,” he says with an appreciative smile.
“For you Nana, baked chicken, dark meat of course, rice pilaf, and the broccoli casserole. They didn’t have the peach cobbler, so I got you apple pie and your tea of course.”
“Mm. My stomach thanks you already.”
I place her food on the table and remove the lid from her teacup. Two bags steep in the hot water. As she adds sugar and cream to the cup, I grab the small pitcher of water.
“I’m going to get you some more water and ice from the nurse.”
“I can just press the button and they can bring more,” Nana says.
“No, you eat. It’s quicker if I walk to the nurse’s station.”
I want to speak with the nurse anyway to make sure they are both truly okay. Smoke inhalation is tricky and I’ve heard too many stories of lasting effects and complications.
The ice and water machines are right off from the station, so I dump and refill the pitcher first then approach the nurse. She’s on the phone so I step back and patiently wait for her to end the call.
“Do they need anything?” she asks as soon as she places the phone on the base. She obviously remembers me from earlier.
“No. They’re fine. I brought them dinner so they don’t need one tonight.”
“Food service is going to deliver it anyway. Hospital policy,” she says. “It might have something on it they can snack on later.” She shrugs.
“True but I was wondering if they are still okay to leave tomorrow.”
“You just missed the doctor actually. They are both really good. Their vitals are oxygen levels are fine. Mrs. Richardson’s pressure is slightly elevated but that’s expected after her ordeal today with her history of hypertension. We are giving her her meds and monitoring it though. I contacted their doctors and their prescriptions were sent to our in-house pharmacy. It’s closed now but you will be able to pick them up tomorrow before discharge.”
“Oh, thank you. And what time is discharge tomorrow?”
“After morning rounds. You should be here around ten, ten-thirty.”
“Perfect. I’ll be here. Thank you again.”
When I walk back into the room, they are both enjoying their food. After pouring Papa a cup of water, I grab my small container from the bag. I’m really not that hungry so I just got a chicken salad croissant. As I pick over my sandwich, I mull over my thoughts and try to form the words to start the conversation I know is going to be difficult.
What happens when they’re released in the morning?
As if reading my discombobulated mind, Papa places his fork down then mutes the television.
“Your nana and I have been talking. We’re going to a hotel until we decide where we’re going to live. That house has been our home for almost fifty years.”
“Fifty,” Nana utters.
“Yeah, almost fifty and we can’t replace it. We’re too old to rebuild, so we’ll look for something to rent eventually. We’re in no rush.”
“Shae’s getting her guestroom ready for you,” I say.
“I’m not living with Shae. She’s not about to drive me crazy,” Nana says quickly.
