My cousin came in about the time he started talking about burying people.
He looked at me, sitting on a table, swinging my feet, and said "I sat right there when my dad was dying." Then he laughed and his whole face turned red and he said "Ohh. I'm not dying." Then he said "I'm the youngest. I should be burying all of you. I'll probably outlast my kids." He was tugging on his arm the whole time; apparently, his shoulder hurt like crazy. He'd been complaining about it for months, and we all kind of gave a little "Maybe that's it!"
It wasn't.
He kept asking for a Sundrop, which he'd stopped drinking at least five years ago. He told my cousin she was out of the will, then did a little whisper and said "She wasn't in it anyways," basically right in her face. It was kind of funny, him saying all these unsaid and unmentionable things that families usually take to their graves. Like cussing in church. It felt right in the weirdest way and he was entertaining to say the least.
We were kicked out shortly after that. The nurse said there were only supposed to be, like, two people in there at a time. I think there were seven.
On our way out, down the hallway, we ran into our Pastor, who was wearing a three piece suit. I was like "Look who's all gussied up?" or something equally as awkward. I think he said he always dressed like that, but I couldn't help thinking it looked like he was about to preach a funeral service.
I hate the way my Pastor smiles when everything's falling apart. It's like his reaction to awful circumstance. I don't know. It's a really stupid grin and he reserves it for hospital scenes and backsliding church members. We chatted about my dad a bit and then he went to room 20 while my brother and I tried to find the waiting room.
When I'd ask for directions, I'd try to veil the hurt pieces, but I feel like these sweet hospital folks were just pulling back my defenses like dead skin and saying, with their genuine, fireplace smiles, that "Yeah, you're hurting. You may remember tonight forever. At least you'll remember our smiles."
My family was in the waiting room, along with more of the church, who'd driven 20 miles or more to be there. I forgot how much they sometimes annoy me and how I lowkey think they abuse their children. It was nice to have them making normal conversation. Not about my dad, not about death or life. Just, like, "Family Guy" and free phone charging stations. I noticed, when we were talking, that my Uncle would keep looking at us, grinning, and I was like "Shit, we don't talk to him like this. We don't talk to our families like this, ever. Christmas is awkward. They probably don't even know what major I am in college."
So when I joked around in the waiting room, to all of them, and my family smiled at me, like actually smiled, there was something perfect about it. Better than Christmas or Thanksgiving or obligatory KFC after a death. They thought I was funny.
Tyler mentioned they had drink machines and I exclaimed, with a little theatre to it, that "Considering we're paying $6000 to be here, you'd think they'd give us a drink at least! Shoot, for six grand I should be getting a Chick-Fil-A sandwich or something!" They were smiling and laughing, but looking back, I may have seemed a little crazed. I pretty much was.
Tyler and I walked to the vending machine room, which smelled awful, like, dead animal awful. The drinks were $1.50 and I was like "Seriously." I lent him two dollars and he got something. I don't remember what. We sat at a little table in there and he was talking to me and I was texting Jordan. I told her to try not to develop feelings for me and she said she never lost them. Tyler walked out eventually, and I sat there, texting, smiling at the folks who'd pass by. Not my family, just folks. I told myself I didn't feel like facing my family, but honestly I think I just wanted to text Jordan without feeling guilty for not talking to my family who was right there, just for me.
I told her there was a girl I was into. Ish. I told her I don't like her like her, but that I wanted someone to talk to. I said this other girl, Jeanna, would make plans with me but then cancel. I told Jordan I annoy everyone to death and she said tried to convince me otherwise, said the other girl liked me, but then I replied "I annoyed you too much. Obviously."
And what's awful is I'd nearly forgotten why I was in the hospital. I can't decide if I was happy she was taking my mind off of my dad or if I was upset because she made me numb to my actual life and took me back to one that wasn't going to happen again.
I told her about the roadtrip I was planning for the summer. She made it seem stupid, like, comparing her to these people I'd attempt to see in Colorado and Michigan. It's freaking stupid, but I can't seem to compare anyone to her. She's so amazing and it absolutely sucks. I mean seriously.
I walked back into the waiting room area, after peeing once again, and my mom said something about them running more tests. She was talking to my brother and she mentioned blood alcohol levels.
I said "Wait, what?"
"His blood alcohol level was 240. They gave him a drug test, but it showed up negative." She hugged me harder then, repeating the same mantra "Tell me what's going on."
I'd mentioned he might be drunk earlier, as a joke almost. I said "His speech is slurry and he's having trouble walking."
My mom got kinda mad then about it. See, he doesn't drink. We don't drink. It's not a thing. He used to before he went to church but he hasn't since. Yeah, it's hard to believe him and very well could've, but we'd been with him all day.
Chelsea had left to take my sister and the kids from church to her house. I found out later mom asked her to look for alcohol, but she found none.
We stayed in the waiting room a little while longer when my mom texted me and said "Start the van. We're going home."