ICU

Jonah entered the Intensive Care Unit, orchids in hand.

“Sir, you need to leave those flowers at the front desk,” said the day nurse in her best Nurse Ratched impersonation. She’d been fussing all day about the flowers by my bed; commenting again and again about the prohibition of flowers in the ICU.

“I want Brigid to see them first.”

“I don’t have a patient by that name.”

“I’m here,” I said. The curtain was drawn around my bed. My voice was hoarse as I was dehydrated.

“Hello, you,” Jonah said poking his head around the curtain. He winced when he saw me. My skin was sallow and I’d lost 20 pounds since I’d seen him.

“Hello.” I waved him to the chair beside the hulking bed. Tubes were stuck into each extremity trying to kick-start my kidneys. My kidney infection had gone undetected for two months even though I’d been to the ER numerous times. There was a possibility that I would lose my right kidney. A surgeon would be in later to poke at me.

“I called your house last night. Your step-dad told me you were here. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I couldn’t walk yesterday. They won’t even let me go to the bathroom alone.”

“Wow! That must be fun.”

“Loads.”

“Where’s Prince William?” Jonah asked referring to my boyfriend Will.

“Work. He’ll be here later.”

“I should be gone by then.”

“Why don’t you want to meet him?”

“No one wants to face his competition,” he said looking to his hands. “Especially when it’s you at stake.”

Guilt struck hard, flushing my cheeks.

Jonah looked to the flowers in his lap. “What can I do for you? Is there anything you need?”

“Hold me.”

“What about the nurse?”

“What’s she going to do? Tell my mom?”

My mom worked the graveyard shift in the ICU, so all the nurses checked in on me every fifteen minutes. Their constant fussing was smothering.

“Sit up.” Jonah said.

I sat up and leaned forward. Jonah climbed into the bed behind me. I leaned into him aware that the back of the gown was open. Thankfully, my mom had brought me some boxers so the world wouldn’t see my ass every time I was escorted to the bathroom.

“Hey, it’s birthday in a few weeks. What do you want to do?” Jonah asked.

“Dinner?”

“Wow! You’ll be sixteen.”

The nurse strode in and made a sour face at Jonah. “She needs to sleep.”

“She will.”

The nurse took my temperature, my blood pressure, gave Jonah one last glaring look, and departed.

“You’re beautiful, ya know that?” he whispered as my eyelids sank into slumberland.

Photo: Toash