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“Like something is trying to crawl its way out.”
Dr. Lowell gave a small smile. “You might have a headache for a while. But all of your scans are clear. Given the confusion when you came in, the vomiting—”
“Vomiting?” That’s what that taste is.
“It’s not uncommon. I hate telling you you’re lucky to have a grade two concussion, but you are lucky.” Dr. Lowell looked at Bobbi. “We can see where we are this afternoon. I might want to keep her one more night. I’ll ask the nurse to bring you some breakfast. It will be bland but let’s see what you can keep down.”
In her mind, Ali wanted to object. She wanted to get up and hightail it out of the hospital back home to her toothbrush, shower, and bed. Home. The thought made tears sting her eyes. Where’s Cornell? she wondered as Dr. Lowell and her mother quietly spoke.
“Cornell,” she interrupted. “Does Cornell know I’m here?”
Her mother rubbed her foot from the end of the bed. “Of course, he does. John had to kick him out last night. He just called. He’s on his way, and he’s bringing you some clothes.”
Ali sighed, relieved. “Can I use the bathroom?” Her bladder was about to burst. Slowly, Ali tried to sit up, but a scorching pain pierced her middle.
“You’re going to need some help for a little bit,” Dr. Lowell said.
A young nurse with a smile unhooked Ali’s IV and gently swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Let’s each take an arm,” she said to Bobbi.
It took a minute for Ali to catch her breath before the nurse and Bobbi gently lifted her up. She was relieved that she could stand on her feet without much more pain.
“Take your time. The worst will be getting out of bed for a few days,” the nurse said as they guided Ali into the bathroom. “I’ll help—”
“I’m fine,” Ali insisted.
“Ali—”
“I’m fine, Mom, please.” Ali reached for the doorknob. “I’ll let you know if I need help.”
The privacy the bathroom offered was enormous compared to the size of the space itself. Carefully, Ali took two steps to the toilet and lowered herself down with the support of the bars beside it. She had to sit longer than necessary to catch her breath, finding that it was almost as if her lungs had holes in them, unable to fill up with the amount of air necessary.
“Ali?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m totally fine.”
But I need a nap. Here on this toilet.It was a struggle to keep her eyes open, but finally Ali pulled herself up, cringing as she did. At the small sink beside the toilet, she washed her hands. Ali tried to avoid looking at herself in the mirror. Keeping her eyes down, Ali didn’t want to see how bad it was because she could already feelit.
But when Ali reached for a paper towel, she caught a glimpse. This is lucky? She wondered, reaching up to touch the bandage on her forehead. She swiped at her hairline, caked with dry blood and smaller, rougher bits. Is that gravel?Glass? Ali’s mind began to swirl, and she gripped the sink to steady herself.
There was a knock on the door. “Mom, I’m fine,” Ali groaned. She would make it back to the bed on her own if it was the last thing she did.
“It’s me,” Cornell spoke softly, and Ali quickly grasped the back of her hospital gown, pulling it shut. “Can I come in?”
“Just a second.”
There was a small, unopened tube of toothpaste but no toothbrush. She grabbed it, squirting some into her mouth with a handful of water. The mixture stung the cut on her lip and didn’t do much to erase the taste of vomit, but it was better than when she first woke up.
Pushing the door open, Ali shuffled her feet, stepping through it. Cornell stood in front of her, and Ali grew envious of the fresh smell of soap that radiated off him. It was all she could focus on, all she let herself focus on. Because Ali knew if she looked at him, she would lose it.
Instead, Ali stepped forward until her aching head pressed softly against his chest, and Cornell’s hands rested on her shoulders, his touch nearly that of a ghost. His attempt to be so gentle made Ali want to burst into tears, realizing just how desperate she was for a hug from him.
Please hold me.
“Hi.” Cornell dropped his head into her hair. Ali wanted him not to because she smelled like blood, antiseptic, dirt, and sweat. But Cornell breathed her in like she was a breath of fresh air and he had been locked inside a stuffy room for weeks.
When he bent, pressing his lips so softly against her cheek, Ali could no longer keep it together.
“Come, let me help you.” He stepped aside, reaching a long arm around Ali’s back to support her. She could feel him pull the hospital gown closed, and she began to cry harder, losing her breath once more. “It’s okay.”
