Waiting to see if someone you love will live is excruciating.
Waiting to die is miserable too.
I wish I was a parking meter, able to buy more time with the drop of a quarter. Especially since Scarlett isn’t answering my calls, either because she’s too busy or she doesn’t recognize the number. The nurse has let me use the desk phone twice so far, and I don’t think she’s going to care if I believe in the third time being the charm. But my hands are tied here. Scarlett has to know what’s happening, especially before she boards her plane in the next couple hours. If the nurse gives me attitude again I might have to play the Decker card. She’ll either become extremely sympathetic and pull up a chair for me so I can spam my sister with calls until she answers, or she’ll kick me out of the building for fear of me endangering the patients. I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m tossed out on the streets like some ticking time bomb; maybe that unknown is why anyone would be concerned to host a Decker in their space.
For now, I’m sitting here in the waiting room. There’s no one to tend to, so I’m doing what the room was built for.
Waiting.
I’m waiting for Dalma to come out of the ER.
I’m waiting for Orion’s heart to settle.
I’m waiting for a premature death that could come around the corner any moment from now, even this very second. . . .
Nothing.
Everything is eerily still. It’s as if I’ve died already and I’m in purgatory, life’s ultimate waiting room.
Though I’m guessing I’m alive because there’s no way purgatory has a vending machine like the one across from me. It’s humming, like it wants me to know it’s there. To spend the money I can’t use to buy more time on some Pringles or Pepsi instead. I quit everything sugary a couple years ago since my smile and body are my work. I get up from this uncomfortable chair and stare into the vending machine at all the soda and chips and chocolate and candy. I zone out, remembering so many times where I said no to a dessert menu, or bite of pie, or Slurpee at a movie theater, or anything that would’ve brought me joy if I didn’t think it was going to threaten my body.
Caring so much about my livelihood meant not caring about how I was living.
I feel so stupid now.
I grab my wallet. I’m ready to spend every dollar I have on making up for lost snacks when I hear my name.
“Valentino,” Dalma says, coming out of nowhere. “You’re still here.”
“Was I supposed to leave?” I ask.
“No, not at all. It’s surprising that you would wait here, since . . . you know.”
I’m stuck here. Going back to my new place doesn’t make a lot of sense. The same goes with buying a ticket back to Arizona. I would lose too many valuable hours on the trip alone. Besides, I couldn’t do that until I’m in contact with Scarlett to stop her from getting on the plane and making sure we’re not ships—planes—passing in the night. Honestly, I don’t know what’s best for me. I’m too overwhelmed to think straight.
“I’m here for now. How’s Orion?”
Dalma settles into a seat, resting her head against the wall. “They’ve stabilized him. He’s going to be okay.”
“Is he staying overnight?”
Dalma shrugs. “Maybe. My family’s waiting to hear what the deal is before they drive back from Ohio.”
“Your family?” Then I remember what happened to his parents. “Oh, right. So he lives with you?”
“We live together. It’s his home too.” Dalma sits up. “Sorry, I’m not snapping at you. I’m just really protective of making sure Orion never feels othered.”