I Want to Scream 'I Love You'

“What?” I snapped back at him.

“We took her to the hospital,” Patrick repeated, lowering his voice.

“I heard that. Why?”

I was probably yelling pretty loudly at this point, but my brain was doing circles, trying to figure out what was going on. It’s not like Patrick was giving me an answer.

“Hold on. I’ll explain everything when we get there,” he delayed even more.

“Patrick. I have every right to know-”

“Yes, I agree, but-” Patrick attempted to interrupt me, though his voice was quiet and much more controlled than mine was.

“-So tell me, right now,” I finished, my throat stinging.

He took a deep breath, his shoulders sinking low. “Just wait until we get there, please? I understand you want to know, it’s your right to know. But just let me focus on the road. Trust me, I’m stressed too. Granted, not nearly as much as you. But, just please, hold on.” His voice was relaxed still, somehow, even after I had pretty much chewed him out.

I sighed in defeat and fell back against the seat, now feeling bad for getting mad.

“Sorry,” my voice cracked, obviously already overused. He reached his hand up and set it on my shoulder, squeezing it slightly, and, for a fleeting moment, he shot me a look of complete despair.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, still staring at the road.

I wanted to object. I wanted to tell him that I couldn’t believe him until he explained what was going on. But that would just cause problems; problems that I definitely didn’t need.

My heart pounded, and, though I said nothing, I was flipping out inside, considering the very worst possibilities. I swear, my imagination’s going to be the death of me.

We pulled into the hospital, and, before it could even register in my brain, Patrick was out of the car.

I swung my door open and hoisted myself out of the car, just to be face-to-face with Patrick.

“Explain now please?” I asked quietly. He pursed his lips together and nodded once.

“Okay,” he whispered, sighing heavily. “Danielle wasn’t feeling good, and she kept coughing, which is normal for whooping cough, but she started coughing really, really bad, she kept saying her chest hurt, and ended up throwing up, which is still somewhat common for whooping cough. But then, around 7:30, I think it was, she started coughing up blood so we brought her here. My mom is pretty sure she knows what Danielle has, but I’m going to wait for them to confirm it before I tell you.” He sighed again. “So that’s why she’s here.”

I stared at Patrick, trying to register what he had just told me in my brain. He looked back at me expectedly, probably waiting for me to respond somehow.

“She’ll be okay,” he whispered, “it’s probably a good thing that she’s here. We can probably get her feeling better faster.”

“I know,” I sighed, “I know.”

He barely touched my arm with his hand and smiled at me, though his eyes didn’t reflect it.

“Come on, let’s go see if she’s up.” He grasped my hand and pulled me towards the hospital doors, and, though I didn’t object, I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to do this.

We made our way to the elevator and to our floor. I held onto his hand tighter as we turned the corner in the hallway and we came to a room with the door closed.

“Alright,” Patrick squeezed my hand, “it’s going to okay, right?”

I stared at him, refusing to give an answer, so he just sighed and pushed the door open.

Danielle laid asleep on the hospital bed. An IV was hooked up to her arm, and she had an oxygen mask, plus a few other wires coming from her. I slammed my eyes shut, refusing to look at her. I felt my knees beginning to wobble, and I quickly reached over to lean against the wall.

“Hayley? Hayley, it’s okay,” Patrick whispered to me, before pulling me into a hug. I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder, still holding my eyes shut.

He slowly rocked back and forth on his feet ever so slightly, swaying me with him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

The door opened and I opened my eyes just enough to see Pat and a nurse with long brown hair walk into the room. Pat immediately flung to me, stealing me from Patrick and wrapping me in a hug.

“Oh, darling, are you okay?” she asked. I shrugged back and she gave me that oh-you-poor-child look. That same look you get after your dad dies. The same look I'd grown sick and tired of years prior.

“Ms. Jones, right?” asked the nurse. She held her hand out to me but I didn’t take it. “Well, I’m Nevada, I’ll be your main nurse for this evening.” She retrieved her hand back awkwardly.

I nodded silently, my mind too lost at the moment to form words.

“Well, I just got the blood test back from the lab, and, just as Patricia presumed, Danielle has pneumonia,” Nevada continued.

Patrick immediately reached forward and put his hand on my shoulder as I stared at Nevada. I put my hand over Patrick’s hand as I felt my knees begin to shake again.

Pneumonia? Oh, crap. Crap. Crap.

“You’re lucky you brought her in when you did. I’m sure it would be much harder to cure if you waited much longer,” she kept talking, but I couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that Danielle had pneumonia. Something I had just passed off as whooping cough was actually twenty times worse than it.

I felt Patrick squeeze my shoulder gently and I looked up at him questioningly.

“She asked if Danielle’s had pneumonia before,” Patrick whispered with a cough, motioning his head towards Nevada.

“Oh, no,” I said, glancing up at her, “sorry.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “Now, like I said, she won’t be hard to cure since you brought her in early. We’ll get some medicine running through her and she should only be here a week at most.”

I sighed and nodded, my eyes focused on the floor, tracing over the same pattern over and over.

I guess it’s better than six weeks of whooping cough… sort of.

“Alright so, the medicine she’s on will make her very drowsy, and probably cause her not quite to remember why she’s here. So she might not wake up for awhile, and when she does, she’ll be very confused,” Nevada handed me a clipboard. “I’m going to need you to fill this out. You’re in no rush, but, if you have any questions, just hit the call button on the bed. Thank you.” She beamed me her smile and turned to walk out of the room, as if she hadn’t just told me that my little sister had a life-threatening sickness that I probably wouldn’t have thought to bring her in for.

Patrick walked me back to the couch and pulled me to sit down by him. I set the clipboard aside, positive I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything just yet.

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay,” Pat said, taking a seat next to me.

I pressed my lips together and stared off into space. I was getting pretty sick of the word ‘okay.’ It was generic, anymore, and had lost all meaning.

“Here, I’ll go get you some coffee, sound good?” she asked, placing a hand on my shoulder that I almost shrugged off, but stopped myself.

You have the right to be upset, fine, but don’t take it out on others.

“Sure,” I said. She smiled, pleased with herself and walked out the door.

My brain did flips, trying to figure out how this is going to work out. School was definitely out of the question, I wasn’t going to leave Danielle here alone eight hours a day, or even three, so work was out also.

Just about anything was out, eating, sleeping, how could I possibly leave or be anywhere? What if she wakes up? What if she’s feeling bad again and needs me? What if she starts coughing badly again and can’t remember where she is or why?

“I’d love to know what you’re thinking so intently about,” Patrick said, his eyes following my stare. I glanced over at him, and he smiled at me, tilting his head slightly.

I let a smile slide onto my lips, “You have no clue what I’m thinking about?”

“I know what you’re thinking about, probably, but what exactly are you thinking about on the subject I think you’re thinking about?” He paused, going over his sentence, mouthing it as he repeated it in his head. “I’m pretty sure that made no sense.”

“I got it,” I said, the smile still faintly portrayed, “I’m thinking about how I’m probably really lucky to have you right now. You know, I probably would have been to scared to bring her into the hospital, at all.”

“You would’ve. I’m pretty sure you would’ve brought yourself to do it. It was pretty obvious that it wasn’t just whooping cough.”

“Obvious,” I mumbled.

“Well, things got worse at my house,” he said, trying to console me, “if you had seen her the way she was at my house, then you would have brought her in.”

I snorted, “I sure hope so.”

Pat returned, struggling to hold three coffee cups. She handed one to me, one to Patrick, then proceeded to take a drink of the last one.

I thanked her, took a drink, then laid my head back on Patrick’s shoulder, fighting to keep my eyes opening. Now with my head horizontal, it hit me how tired I was. It’s been more than twenty-four hours without sleep, and my body wasn’t at all accustomed to this torture.

“You need sleep,” Patrick told me. I shook my head reluctantly but he reached over and grabbed the pillow sitting on the windowsill with a navy blue blanket anyway. He set it in my lap, and looked down at me. “Depriving yourself of sleep isn’t going to help any.”

“Well, what are you guys going to do?” I asked, pulling my knees up to my chest and laying the pillow over on top of the clipboard I had set behind me.

“I’ll stay and watch Danielle,” Patrick assured me.

I lifted my head and stared at him. “And you’re just going to skip school?”

“Well,” he sighed, glancing at his shoes, “I don’t know.”

“As nice of a gesture that is, Rick, you can’t miss school for this,” Pat smiled from me to Patrick, then back to me. “Sorry, sweetie.”

“No,” I waved it off, “it’s fine. I wouldn’t let him stay here anyway. He has to go and keep me updated on Mr. Hollie’s art rampage.” I smiled at Patrick and he chuckled back.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said, leaning over and giving me a hug, “I’ll be back tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“’Kay,” I said, waving as he and his mom walked out the door, his mom attacking me with a hug and smoothing down my hair before she left.

I sighed as the room became exponentially quieter and emptier, and walked over to sit closer to Danielle.

I took her hand in mine, and laid my head next to her.

“I promise,” I mumbled, my eyes drifting shut, “we’re going to be just fine. Just, fine…”