Moving On

Part 18

The milkshake froze my fingers as I waited for the elevator doors to close. I swapped it from hand to hand as the red numbers above the panel increased, pausing at nearly every floor as people got in or exited. I slipped between two women in blue scrubs when the car stopped at the ninth floor and made my way though the winding hallways, wrinkling my nose at the heavy antiseptic smell. I peered around the door of Sam's room, not wanting to disturb him if he was asleep, but he was sitting in the chair I'd occupied earlier. His mother had arrived and was in the corner talking to a doctor, while an orderly changed the sheets on the bed.

"I'll bet it feels good to be out of that bed." I spoke quietly, not wanting to interrupt the adults.

Sam turned his head and smiled crookedly up at me. "You have no idea. Maybe they'll let me sleep in this chair. You done with your interrogation already?"

"Yeah. I didn't miss your first walk, did I?"

He grinned fully, the old Sam from before our accident finally evident. "Aw, you didn't miss much. They only let me walk to the nurse's station and my big ol' white ass was hanging out the whole time."

"Sam!" His mother shook her head resignedly at her son.

"Sorry, Ma." He winked at me when his mom turned back to the doctor. "Is that for me?" He pointed to the cup still clutched in my hands.

"If you're allowed to have ice cream, it's yours."

"Hey, Doc." He called across the room. "Can I have a milkshake?"

The doctor turned toward us and glanced at the cup in my hands. "Yes, if you like. You won't be allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight, so you might as well enjoy a treat now."

I placed the cup in his left hand and rubbed my cold palms together. "Why can't you have anything after midnight? It seems a bit harsh."

"The doc says I'm gonna have surgery on my arm tomorrow."

"So soon?" I squatted beside his chair so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look at me.

"Well, yeah." He chuckled and sipped his milkshake. "Mmm. Vanilla. How'd you know?"

I shrugged. Drew must have mentioned it, but I didn't remember a specific time when he'd told me Sam preferred vanilla over chocolate ice cream. "Shouldn't they wait a while before they operate on you again? I mean, you just had surgery two days ago!" I'd watched enough medical dramas on television to know how dangerous general anesthetic was.

He raised his eyebrows at my reaction and slowly lowered his cup. "Hey, it's okay, Kylie. They're gonna put a few pins in my arm and wrap it up in a cast. That's it. No big deal. I'll be fine. If all goes well, I'll be able to go home in a couple days."

"If all goes well? What does that mean?"

He winced. "Nothing. Everything is going to be fine."

I stared at him for a long moment. "Promise?" I knew he couldn't, that it wasn't within his power, but I needed to hear the words.

"Promise."

"Okay." I was mildly embarrassed by my outburst, but still horribly worried. "What time is the surgery scheduled for? I want to be here in time to see you before you go."

He shook his head as he took another long pull on the milkshake straw. "Go to school. You have an English paper to turn in. Remember? You don't need to hang around this damn hospital all day."

"But I want to be here." I needed to be there during his surgery, needed to be close at hand.

"Sam is right." His mother, obviously finished with her consultation with the doctor, approached. "His dad and I will be here. You can come see him after school. There's no need for you to sit around in the waiting room all day."