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The elevator doors beyond the waiting room open, and my mother and Ryan come out in a flurry. I didn’t even know they were back in France.
“Christopher,” my mother calls to me, her voice tinged with worry. “What on earth happened? Where is he?”
“Mom, it’s okay,” I reassure her immediately. “He’s in a room and he’s stable. There’s no immediate danger.”
“But what happened?” Ryan pries. “Sandrine said you were fighting with him. Is that true?”
My mother looks at me pleadingly, probably assuming I’ll deny it. But I won’t.
“It’s true,” I say. “We were arguing, and I lost my temper.” I turn to my mother. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize his health was so fragile.”
There’s hurt behind my mother’s eyes, but she catches sight of a nurse walking down the hall, so she just says, “Hold on, dear,” and turns quickly to follow her.
“What ever could you have been arguing about, Christopher?” Ryan says, taunting. He laughs low in his throat. “Golden child my ass. You are so fucking screwed.”
For the first time I realize how irredeemable my brother really is. For all I complain about my grandfather, seeing him clutch his chest and struggle to breathe scared me. But Ryan is standing here, so cavalier, and it’s all a fucking game to him. I ball up my fist, I want to punch him, I want to send him careening down the hallway, but then I there’s someone by my side.
“Mr. Beliem,” the nurse says. “Your mother says you can visit your grandfather now. He’s sedated, but stable.”
Weaver hastily tells Kate she’ll call her later and joins me as I walk down the hall to his hospital room. Just as we arrive to the door, my mother is coming out with Sandrine. They’re holding hands and their heads are close to each other speaking quietly.
“Go in, Christopher,” Sandrine says. “You looked so frightened when I came to the study. You need to see him. He’s going to be okay. I promise you.” My mother nods in agreement and I walk in the room. Grandad, who dominates my schedule, controls my life, is lying in the hospital bed like a shell of man. He’s connected to wires and beeping machines, and I find it hard to imagine that this man has ever been intimidating to me.
I feel Weaver’s hands rubbing up my back and settling on my shoulders. She’s on her tiptoes so she can whisper in my ear.
“How are you?” she asks.
“I feel like a fucking monster, honestly,” I say with a sad little laugh.
“There’s a dirty joke in there but I’ll save it for later,” she says, squeezing me tightly from behind. “What I will say is that you’re not a monster. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. I don’t know exactly what happened back there, but I know you. Whatever happened, whatever you said, I know you were provoked. And I know you’ll make it right, Chris. You’re the best man I know.” She’s standing in front of me now, my face in her hands, and looking at me so earnestly I believe her. My guilt abates, a bit, and I lean down to kiss her.
We’re interrupted by my grandfather’s hoarse voice, “Jesus Christ, get a room.”
Weaver lets out the loudest laugh I’ve ever heard, then throws her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide open in shock. I look over her head at Grandad in the bed, and he’s waving me over.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell Weaver. She nods with a smile and squeezes my hands before she turns to leave the room.
“Hey, Grandad, it’s good to hear your voice,” I say, settling into the chair beside his bed. “You scared me.”
“Ahhh stop it,” he grumbles. “Nothing keeps me down for too long. And maybe you all need to hear a little less of my voice.”
“I shouldn’t have raised my voice,” I counter. “But you’re right; those things you were saying about Weaver, I just lost it. Because if you knew her…”
“I see her, Chris. I see her standing by your side at your old crotchety grandfather’s bed, supporting you, trying to make you laugh, encouraging you to be a good man. I saw it Chris,” his voice trails off. “Do me a favor because I need a rest. Send everyone away. Tell your mother not to worry. I’ll see her in the morning.” He pats my hand as his eyes flutter closed, and just like that, Alexandre Beliem surprises me again.
I rise silently from the old vinyl hospital chair and open the door softly, slipping out into the fluorescent lit hallway. Everyone is there, staring at me.
“He’s resting now, and he says he’ll see everyone tomorrow,” I say, and it’s like a weight lifts off my mother’s shoulders, but I see it settle on Ryan’s.
