Page 114 of Don't Go
"I'm very thirsty. Mom. I would like — "
"They will let me give you ice chips in a few minutes."
"May I have them now, please?"
The recovery week was quiet.
Mrs. Park brought soup — her own, in a thermos, the same soup she had been making for me whenever I fell sick. Kit brought magazines that he had paid too much for at the hospital gift shop and a stack of his bad jokes that Bonnie pretended not to find funny, but did.
Cade and Suzanne came on the second day after the surgery.
Vivienne came every day — in the morning with coffee and stayed sometimes for the whole afternoon and sometimes for just an hour.
Beau wasn't there.
I hadn't invited him.
Bonnie asked once. "Mom, where is Beau?"
"He is busy with some work, baby."
Bonnie didn't ask twice, simply filing away the answer for later.
Bonnie's birthday came in the hospital.
Mrs. Park came in with a cake that had three tiers, a fondant cat on the top — a black cat, with a piece of green fondant for an eye. She placed planets in fondant on the second tier because Bonnie had requested that.
Kit brought streamers, and he hung them from the rail above Bonnie's bed and around the window and across the bathroom door. He had used it to decorate the Half Past on New Year's two years ago, and it had always been in his apartment since.
Cade and Suzanne brought her new plushies and Vivienne brought a junior telescope. It had Bonnie's name engraved on the brass, and Vivienne wouldn't, when asked, tell us how much the telescope cost.
Bonnie blew out the candles. It went out in two passes, and she held her wish for a beat.
She looked at me. "I wish Beau were here."
The room went quiet for a half-second.
Vivienne was the one who broke the quiet. She said, "Bonnie, tell me about Saturn."
Bonnie looked at her, and by the look on her face, she didn’t want to tell anyone about Saturn at that minute. But she told us about Saturn anyway.
She talked about Saturn for a few minutes, then she ate cake and got tired.
When Bonnie was napping, Mrs. Park had gone to the cafeteria, while Kit had gone home. Suzanne and Cade had gone to a gallery appointment, and the room had emptied out, but Vivienne stayed.
Vivienne sat in the chair beside me.
She had her hands in her lap.
I waited. I was getting good at sitting with a quiet person and not filling the quiet.
"Sabrina, may I tell you what my son has been doing?"
I looked at her. "I told him not to tell me."
"He hasn't, but I'm telling you. Well, he didn't ask me to. I want you to know that part. He didn't put me up to this. But Cade has been filling me with the details, and I'm telling you because I want you to know."
"Vivienne — "
