sister Coma Girl has been in a coma in an Atlanta hospital since a car accident over three months ago. How is she doing?”
“She’s doing well, considering the circumstances. She’s responding to commands to move her fingers, so we have reason to believe she’s getting better and will hopefully wake up soon.”
Applause sounded.
“And you were in the accident with your sister, is that right?”
“Yes,” Sidney said. “It could’ve just as easily been me in the coma and my sister sitting here talking to you.”
“Except Marigold would never go on TV to talk about her comatose sister,” Winnie said.
“Shhhh!”
“And on the large screen behind you, Sidney, are some pictures of Coma Girl before the coma, right?”
“Yes, this picture was taken of Coma Girl when she was singing karaoke with friends. She had a great singing voice.”
“And this picture?”
“That’s Coma Girl in her hospital bed, and me painting her fingernails. It’s one way I can interact with my sister.”
“Our hearts are breaking for you,” the host said. “I know we can’t talk about the accident that put your sister in a coma because it’s still an open case.”
“That’s right,” Sidney said. “And since I’m in law school, I can’t plead ignorance of the statutes.”
“Oh, you’re in law school?’
“Yes, third year at Boston. Well, I’m sitting out this semester to help with my family’s situation.”
“Well, she got in a good plug for herself,” Winnie said.
“Shhhh!”
The host made a mournful noise. “I can only imagine what you and your family have been going through.”
“And Marigold,” Winnie muttered.
“Shhhh!”
“We’re doing the best we can,” Sidney said. “All the great cards and social media posts to hashtag Coma Girl have been a real boon to our spirits.”
More applause sounded.
“But you’re here today,” the host said, “for a special update on Coma Girl exclusively for our viewers. What can you tell us?”
“Even in the darkest situation,” Sidney said, her voice wavering, “a beacon of light can appear.”
“What is she talking about?” Winnie asked.
“Shhhh!”
“And our beacon of light is finding out that Coma Girl is pregnant.”
Exclamations sounded from the TV, then the audience erupted into wild applause.
“Look, they’re giving her a standing ovation!” my mother said.
“Oh, poor Marigold,” Winnie murmured.
“A reminder,” the host said, “that Coma Girl T-shirts and scarves are available on the Coma Girl website and Facebook page. All proceeds will go toward medical expenses and to the Coma Girl Foundation.”
Aunt Winnie gasped. “The baby—that’s what the psychic meant by two Marigolds!”
“Psychic?” my mother asked. “What psychic?”
While the two of them bickered over the closing credits of the show, I contemplated the fallout of the announcement. I’d counted the number of times they’d said Coma Girl and the number of times they’d said my name.
Coma Girl: 11, Marigold Kemp: 0.
September 17, Saturday
“I ALMOST SWALLOWED a biscuit,” Roberta said.
Roberta had been eating when she watched Sidney’s announcement—shocker.
“I called in sick to work so I could watch it. Then I was like, ‘Did she just say Coma Girl is pregnant ?’ Last time I checked you have to have sex to get knocked up, and I thought we had an agreement that you would tell me if you ever got yourself laid.”
In fairness, she had agreed I would tell her, not me.
“So that explains why your sister was asking all those questions about if you were seeing anyone right before the accident. They don’t know who the baby-daddy is.”
Bingo.
“Okay, you gotta wake up and tell me. Right now—wake the hell up .”
She said it with such force, I’m kind of surprised I didn’t just snap out of it.
Roberta heaved a sigh. “Now I have to speculate. Since you didn’t tell me you got some sausage, that means you’re