Before I Wake by Robert J. Wiersema Read Free Book Online

slightly.
    â€œShe can’t get a flight out until tomorrow.”
    â€œDamn.”
    â€œMy mother called us back too.”
    â€œYou still need to call your dad, though.”
    I didn’t say anything.
    â€œBefore he reads about it in the newspaper.”
    â€œHe doesn’t read the paper.”
    â€œStill, he is her grandfather. Even if they’ve never met.”
    I reached across the table and laid my hand over hers, trying to change the subject. “How are you holding up?”
    â€œI talked to Dr. McKinley after you left. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
    I gently squeezed her hand. “Karen…” I waited until she met my eyes. “How are you doing?”
    She pulled her hand away.
    â€œFine, fine,” she said. “I need a shower, and some food, and some sleep—”
    The waiter materialized next to us. “Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”
    I hadn’t even noticed it lying on the place mat in front of me. I gestured toward Karen.
    â€œJust toast, I think. Brown.”
    She seemed drained, weakened.
    â€œI’ll have the same. And a coffee.”
    He scooped the menus up and disappeared back into the kitchen.
    Karen sighed heavily, took a sip of her coffee. “I talked to Dr. McKinley after you…after.”
    I nodded.
    â€œHe said…”
    Both of her hands were wrapped tightly around her coffee cup where I couldn’t reach them.
    â€œHe, uh, they…” She sniffed and ran the back of one hand over her nose. “They’re taking her in for some tests. Scans. They—”
    â€œMRI?” I asked.
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œAnother one.”
    â€œWhat?” She asked, confused.
    â€œThey took her for one yesterday. Before the surgery. If they’re taking her in for another one…”
    We both stopped as the waiter arrived with my coffee, setting the cup heavily on the scarred tabletop, dropping a handful of creamers next to it. “There you go,” and to Karen, “I’ll come around in a second to warm yours up.”
    Her face was tightly drawn in, straining, as she nodded to him.
    â€œHe said you were right. She already has pneumonia. That she…” Tears ran down her cheeks.
    KAREN
    He reached over and lifted my hand away from the coffee cup and held it between both of his. He was shaking his head, his eyes soft.
    â€œLet’s not talk about this right now,” he said.
    â€œSimon…” I couldn’t form a coherent thought, and I was embarrassed to be visibly crying in a restaurant.
    â€œNo, listen,” he said, squeezing my hand. “We don’t have to talk about this right now—”
    â€œI don’t want her to die, Simon.”
    He shushed me and squeezed my hand again. “Don’t even think about that right now. Just let it be.”
    â€œSimon—”
    â€œJust let it be. We’ll eat breakfast, get you home, get you showered. It’s going to be okay.”
    I nodded, trying to smile a little.
    â€œI love you,” he said in a near-whisper. “I’m here for you.”
    I could only nod again.
    SIMON
    I checked the time as I answered my cell phone. 12:48. Karen was in the shower, and had been for more than seventeen minutes. She had called her mother when we got home from the restaurant, hung up crying and retreated into the bathroom with her robe over her shoulder.
    â€œBarrett,” I answered.
    â€œMr. Barrett? It’s Dr. McKinley calling from the hospital. I tried a couple of times to get through on your home line and it was busy.”
    We had turned the ringer off after Karen had spoken with her mother. While we had been out for breakfast another half-dozen messages, all from journalists, had been left on the machine. “No problem. It’s probably easiest to get through to us on my cell.”
    â€œI’ll make a note.”
    â€œHow is