Chapter 45: It's Not About the Chips
For the first time since we've met, he doesn't bite. He only shakes his head and points to the revolving door at the front of the hospital. What a wonderful time for him to become the bigger person and leave me standing on the sidewalk looking like a fool alone.
With slow steps I walk past him and into the cold white building. As I follow the signs for intensive care, my steps pick up until I'm almost running when I barrel through the large metal doors to the unit where my mother said my father has a room. A small lobby with chairs and vending machines is to the right and a woman, my mother, with a tear-stained face steps out.
"Kens," she says grabbing onto my arm while clutching a small cup of coffee in her other. "Have you heard from your brother?"
"No," I say and her face falls. There's so much sorrow in the lines of her face and I don't know how to fix the problem.