Blurred Lines

Chapter Five

"Did Dr. Macey tell you what happened?" I asked, treading lightly. I sat on the stool on one side of Mom while Dad sat on the other. I leaned back, watching the tears glitter in his eyes as he rubbed his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

"Yeah." He didn't look up at me.

"And?" I prompted. "Dad, just tell me."

"Drunk driver." He sniffed. "Your mom was hit by a stupid drunk driver." He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing softly. "She was on her way home, done for the night, when she was hit."

"Where's the driver now?" I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the emotion clouding my voice. I wanted my dad to know that I was old enough to know the truth, and that I wouldn't cry like a baby about it.

"I didn't ask." He shook his head. "I really just don't want to know."

I wanted to know though. There was a selfish part of me that wanted to know if that person was in a worse condition than my mom. She was innocent, driving home from the hospital, from helping people, when she was hit. Hit by a person who was under the influence, stupidly getting in the car when they knew their reaction time would be slower.

A sharp ring interrupted our conversation and Dad glanced at his phone before answering. "Hi Lauren." It was Mrs. Avery.

"I know," He said. "I just want to stay with her a while longer."

He paused as she said something and he leaned forward, rubbing his tired eyes. "Okay, we can do that. I'll see you in ten minutes."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Mrs. Avery is going to going to come pick you up so you can go home, shower, get something to eat, and sleep if you want to-"

"Dad, no," I whined. "I want to stay here with Mom. What if something happens and I'm not here?" My nose burned with the prospect of oncoming tears.

"Okay, okay," He reassured, walking over to the other side of the bed to hug me. "Just change into some new clothes and eat. Bring me back a new shirt and a sandwich or something, and Mrs. Avery will bring you back. Sound good?"

"Okay," I nodded, sniffling. "I won't be gone long."

He straightened. "Say goodbye to Mom for now and I'll walk you downstairs to wait for Mrs. Avery."

I carefully bent over her, kissing her cheek. "I'll see you soon, Mom. I love you and please keep fighting, I know you can do it."

I searched her face for some kind of movement, some sign that she heard me. I wanted her eyes to spring open, her lips to widen into a smile, and her arms to envelope me in a bone crushing hug. But her smooth skin remained as still as a porcelain doll.

Dad kept an arm wrapped around my shoulders as we went down the elevator and walked over to the main doors. I felt sick, leaving Mom alone upstairs. Fear, thick and prominent, twisted around my stomach so that I couldn't think clearly. I was so afraid that something was going to happen. Mrs. Avery walked through minutes later, rushing towards Dad and I with worry lines creasing her forehead.

She hugged us, talked to my dad, and walked me back out to her car. She tried making conversation at first, to try to lift my spirits. But I was too preoccupied, and after a couple of distracted nods, she turned up the music and allowed us to sit in silence for the remainder of the car ride.

I made the trip inside short, not able to do anything besides worry. I felt like I was walking through a fog, and only once when I was beside Mom's bedside again would I be able to see clearly and feel okay again. I took a shower, got changed, and grabbed Dad a new shirt. When I had made it back downstairs, Mrs. Avery had made a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with some fruit. We stuffed them in a lunch box, I managed a small smile as a thank you and we were back in the car again.