Is This What You Call a Family?

"Julieeeet! It’s time to wake up," someone sang into my ear. I groaned and turned onto my side to try to escape the person. However, the sharp pain I felt made me cry out and turn back onto my back as my eyes snapped open. Ruth clicked her tongue and shook her head at me. "Was that really your best idea?"

"Oh, leave me alone, Mom." The moment the sarcastic syllable ended, the room filled with a sudden tension. After a beat I was blinking hard to try to hold back the waterworks. I had spent most of the time alone in my room crying yesterday, I didn't need to start again so early of waking up. I pushed myself into a sitting position and had to resist rubbing at my eyes. "So what do you want? It has to be super early."

"Yeah, it’s seven in the morning. I wanted to get you up and fed before the doctor comes in," Ruth said without a hint of feeling uncomfortable from the previous statement. I silently thanked her in my mind for her lack of talking about it and just moving on.

"I’m not really hungry though," I huffed.

"I don’t care. You slept through dinner last night so you need to eat. I swear it’s edible," Ruth sang.

"Fine," I sighed as I pushed the blankets off my legs. Ruth ushered forward and gently helped me turn to swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Soon enough I was standing and grasping the IV pole as I shuffled over to the bathroom. Once I went through the process of using the restroom and washing my hands, I shuffled back to my bed which had been adjusted to a sitting position. "I can’t wait to be able to wear pants again."

"Just a measly twenty-four hours," Ruth reminded.

"That’s what you say, but maybe you’re wrong and I get to wear pants today," I retorted.

"Bet I’m right," Ruth spoke with a smirk slipping onto her face as she placed her hands on her hips.

"What’s the bet?"

"If I’m right, you have to go to the rehabilitation room for four hours total before you leave tomorrow," Ruth said with a shrug. The thought of walking on a treadmill for a few hours, or whatever kind of boring shit I would be expected to do, sounded incredibly boring. I almost wanted to back out as I thought it over if only because of how overconfident Ruth seemed to be on her guess. But there was no way I was going down without a fight.

"And if I win, you have to go out for my lunch and dinner to get me Taco Bell. And no arguing or complaining on why what I want is bad for me," I added when I saw her face scrunch up. She paused for a moment, thinking it over, before she nodded.

"Deal." She held out her hand which I grasped and shook firmly. Once that was settled she left the room with the promise of food in a few minutes.

As I sat alone my mind began to wonder to the idea of my father again. I hadn't put too much thought into him again since I was too busy wallowing in my own self pity, but now that I was trying to take a break from that, he shot to the front of my thoughts. Mom hadn't really spoken of him growing up, The few times I asked her about him she simply told me that he decided to leave us for bigger and better things.

I knew somewhere in my heart I should hate and despise him but I couldn't find myself doing so. It would be unfair. Mom would probably rage against the idea of me agreeing with his life choices. But Mom wasn't here and the logical side of my brain insisted I hear his side before making any commitments. But, to be honest, both sides of my brain were killing me. Just trying to picture the man from my childhood was painful. Just a stupid hat again.

"Breakfast is served!" Ruth announced loudly as she stepped into the room. I tensed up but did not jump from the sudden entrance, which I was thankful for. Ruth didn't seem to notice anything off with me and rolled my table over with the plate on it. I raised my eyebrow at the eggs and bacon which formed a smiley face

"What am I, six?" I mused as Ruth handed me a fork. In actuality, I thought this was just a thing they did on cartoons or some other form of entertainment. She pouted at me, her bottom lip jutting out.

"You mean you don’t like it?" She questioned with a sniffle. "I made it myself! Well, with the supplies in the kitchen."

"I didn't say that. Just odd is all," I mumbled as I cut off a piece one of the eggs and popped it in my mouth. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't that great. What else was I really expecting from hospital food? I nodded my head to Ruth which made her beam again. She began to ramble on about one of the long staying patients on the fifth floor who was constantly getting into odd shenanigans from his slight dementia as I nodded occasionally.

I wonder what kind of man my father was. Mom claimed he was a good for nothing his entire life, but she had to have seen something in him for her to have me and be with him until I was two. I wonder if he actually had a job or if he was one of those kind of bums that lived with their parents until they were forty. I hope not. If I was possibly going to live with him, I hope I wouldn't have to shove in his parents’ basement with him. That would be twenty different kinds of awkward.

Mom sometimes let it slip that he could sing and was brilliant at guitar. I wonder if he still played? Maybe I could convince him to sing to me sometime. I miss when Mom used to sing to me. If I was ever stressed from school or if I was having trouble sleeping, she would sing and her fingers would tap across my arm like she was playing her violin again. God, I would give anything to hear her play her violin. She hadn't played since I was five when she had to sell it. I miss that beautiful, mahogany piece of art. She always promised to teach me but -

"Juliet?"

My eyes snapped up to not only see Ruth but the doctor I vaguely remembered from when I first woke up at the hospital. Dr. Starling I think is what Ruth told me. I gave a half assed smile before focusing on my plate again. Only a strip of bacon was left which confused me slightly. I must have been too into my thoughts to even process that I had been eating. Weird.

"I'm glad to see you're no longer sprinting across the hospital," Dr. Starling spoke up as I pushed the table to the side. Ruth swooped in, promising to return once she got rid of the extra food. As the door shut, I finally looked up again to see the doctor staring at the clipboard that had been hanging at the end of my bed. "How is your ankle doing?"

"Much better." Ruth had put it on ice from the time we got back from lunch until she had checked up on me for dinner. I had faked sleeping more for the fact that I hadn't been too up for the idea of Ruth trying to talk to me about who knows what. She was a sweet woman, but I wanted my time alone.

"Good, good." He scribbled some things on the paper before finally looking up at me. "Is there any pain when you inhale?"

"A bit. Ruth said it will probably be a little stronger once I get weaned off the stronger medicine that goes through the IV."

"She’s right. It’ll probably be sharper once we get the medicine filtered out of your body. I’m going to prescribe you some acetaminophen for the pain. But I also want you to apply ice packs to help and Ruth here will show you some breathing exercises," Dr. Starling explained as Ruth slipped back into the room.

I raised an eyebrow at the doctor. "Ace-whats?"

"Tylenol, pretty much," Ruth interrupted before Dr. Starling could say anything. He gave Ruth a short look before he nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'll leave you in her capable hands then. I'll check up on you again later in the day,” Dr. Starling spoke as he hung the clipboard back in it’s correct spot.

"Hey doc?" He paused in the doorway as he turned to face me, his fingers gently tapping on the door frame. I guess someone doesn't like people asking extra questions outside of what he decides to tell patients. Rude. "Am I going to be able to get out today or...?"

"I think I would like to keep you for one more night of observation. I want to make sure that the fractures are still not that serious, like we currently believe them to be. The drugs will be finished filtering by the evening and if your pain is too high, we will have to go through surgery. It’s doubtful to be that way, but we want to be sure."

"Thanks, doc," I grumbled as I slunk into my bed. He nodded once before he disappeared from view. Ruth had a smirk planted on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"So, you wanna doubt my abilities again?" she taunted.

"I doubt you’re ever gonna let this go," I mumbled under my breath.

"What?"

"I said when do we have to start this stupid therapy thing?"

"Let’s go now," Ruth spoke loudly, clapping her hands together. I groaned loudly and pulled the thin excuse of a sheet over my head. Ruth tore it away and gave me an even stare. "Come on, you made a deal."

"That I would go to the rehab room for four hours before I leave tomorrow. I never said when I would go."

Ruth opened her mouth to argue but nothing came out. After a few moments she let out a sigh and nodded. "Fine, I’ll let you win this one. But I will be back in an hour and we will go."

"Fine."

Ruth was nice enough to actually throw me a bone and leave me alone for now. I pressed the button on the bed to lay it flat again and pulled the sheet back over my body. I folded my hands together on my stomach and stared blankly at the ceiling. Why did I run Ruth off anyways? It’s not like I had anything better to do at this point. I lifted my head to stare at the television attached to the wall for a few moments. I let out a sigh and let my head fall back onto the pillows. No, TV sounded boring too.

Actually, nothing sounded very interesting at this moment. Music, video games, movies, nothing seemed good enough. Staring at the ceiling wasn't fun either but it was something that was there that gave instant satisfaction in the ‘doing something’ category without technically doing anything. There’s always the over cliched idea of counting dots on the ceiling. Almost sounded even more boring than just staring at the ceiling in general.

What am I doing?

Just as I was about to slam the ‘call nurse’ button, the door to my room opened. I propped myself onto my elbows and opened my mouth to speak to who I had assumed to be Ruth, but fell silent when I realized it wasn't. Instead a man entered, looking quite unsure if he was even in the right room as he poked his head in. He made eye contact with me and seemed to freeze up, his eyes wide as he took me in. I looked him over and came to the quick decision I had no idea who this man was.

He was definitely older. I would guess his forties but honestly I sucked at guessing ages really. His hair was a brown color with eyes that were just a bit darker. He had to be at least five foot eight which would basically tower over me if I was actually standing. Who was this guy? He had to be lost. Maybe he was here to visit the person who was here before and no one told him where the person transferred to. That would be kind of rude if it was the situation though.

I blinked as I realized he was still just standing there looking surprised. "Can I help you..?"

"J - Juliet?"

What the fuck? Who are you? What is going on right now? How do you know who I am? Please step outside as I figure out what’s going on. I opened and closed my mouth a few times as my heart rate began to beat faster. Did Marcus send someone to finish off the job? Why is this happening to me? Someone help me.

"Oh shoot, I’m sorry. Please - uh, please stop freaking out like that," the man begged as he stepped fully into the room with his hands up in surrender. His eyes flicked to the devices next to me and that's when I heard the heart monitor beeping like crazy. I forced myself to focus on breathing normally and attempting to get my heart to beat at a slower rate. The man shifted his weight between his feet as his eyes darted between my face and the heart monitor.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded after a minute. I didn't feel any better but I was getting tired of his scrutiny by now.

"I’m, well, I’m your grandfather."

"Wait, you’re my...what?"