Second Choice

Holding On

 "Clear!" The nurse's voice blast through the room.

Dusty's glassy eyes stare at the bruised woman he called his mother lying lifeless on the bed, while I came back to the room staring at the oh too familiar flatline on the monitor. 

"Dusty," I whisper, as the machine hummed. 

"No, she's not gone! I know she's not!" Dusty roars. 

"Fix her! Fix her right now!"

The nurses look back and forth to one and another. "It has been almost a minute. Should we call it?"

"Wait!" Dusty yells out. "Wait a minute."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hofman. There is nothing we can do."

"No, you don't understand." Dusty surprises me by yanking me with him.

"Dusty, what in the hell are you doing?"

"f*****g quacks! They won't believe me! Please, just listen for her to breathe just once." 

"Fine. Fine. I will do it!" I raise my hands in defeat.

The nurse pushes the pagers on the side of the waist, calling for help while I climb on top of the bed with this strange woman I never met before. 

Laying my head down across her solid chest of wires, I listen past the sound of the humming from the machine and Dusty's panicked breathing. Listening to anything I could that would make the pain go away from Dusty's broken soul. 

"Ma'am, please get off the bed." The nurse stepped forward and warned.

The other nurse that knows Dusty shakes her head. "She is fine. Leave her alone."

The woman glares at her and gets quiet. Dusty runs to my side. "Anything?" He asks desperately. 

There is something inside me, something brewing stronger and stronger. I wish more than anything that Dusty didn't have to go through what I have and still am going through all this time. Rage, hatred, love, passion, regret, surges through my arm, and right through my fist. I rear back with all my might and pound the hell out of her chest.

The woman's body arches straight back in the air as the nurse's gasps in shock. Dusty falls back against the wall, only to pull himself back to his feet. The nurses are about to call for security when Dusty yells out, "Wait!"

Everyone's head whips towards the monitor as the machine shows her heart beating. Slowly at first. Then a steady strumming makes music to our ears. My legs are still straddled over his mother as I see her gentle breaths through the tubes. I smile, knowing for once I saved her ass for another day.

"Mom!" Dusty yells out and runs to her side. 

I climb off the bed and let them check on his mother. Deciding I have done what Dusty truly called me for, I gather my purse and my sore knuckle and head towards the hallway.

It is time for me to go home and call the only two people that I have left in my life, starting with my sister. 

"Hey, where are you going?" Dusty walks behind me.

"Home," I answer, looking down the hallway. 

"Look, I know I have a lot of explaining to do back there…" Dusty puts his cap back on and covers his watery eyes with his long unkempt hair.

"No need. We are not best friends anymore. Remember?" 

Dusty's shoulders slump. "Bailey, that was in high school. That was such a long time ago." 

"Dusty, that was only three years ago? It hasn't been that long. Anyway. It doesn't matter." I brush it off. "Your Mom, as you call her now, is okay, so you don't need me anymore. Talk to you later. Bye."

I take several steps before Dusty pulls me back by the arm. "Bailey, wait a minute." 

"What is it?" I snip.

"Look, I am sorry. I would have visited you more in the hospital with the accident. … I mean, I should have visited you more in the hospital and not had so many excuses all the time.."

"Your right. You should have."

"Bailey, let me make it up to you. Please." 

"I'm sorry... I... I can't."

I close my eyes, remembering the past once more.

*******

"Me neither." My sister whispers back before we hear the roaring sound of an eighteen-wheeler coming right at Daddy's window.   

The eighteen-wheeler slams right into Daddy's window. I remember little that night except for the fading images of the car flipping and the airbags deploying.  Glass was shattering in my face and the loud sounds of the horn buzzing and my mom screaming at the top of her lungs, but not once did my sister and I let go. I know this because when I woke up; The nurse had us side by side in the same hospital room. They said they found us holding hands at the accident. 

Some people came and told me about my parents. They called themselves social services workers. With my parent's alcoholic levels devastatingly high, they said I could give my sister to the system or become the parent. The choice was simple.

Therapy is supposed to be only what the body could handle. I pushed myself until I felt like I would crack. I would not let the system take the only loved one I had left. I would do anything the social workers requested. Job security, car, schooling, anything to make sure that my sister was mine. I also learned who my real friends were in high school. 

The phone would ring on the table across my belly. I would pick up it up with anticipation only to hear. "I'm sorry, Bailey. I can't make it. The guys are going on a hunting run this weekend, and I don't want to miss it."

"Of course, Dusty." 

"I mean it, Bailey. I would come to the hospital if I could... I'm just busy. That's all."

"Will you come tomorrow?" I would always ask with a new sense of hope.

"Tomorrow? Yea. Sure, I will." Dusty eagerly promises.

"No excuses, now." I tease back.

"Never..."