The wonderful meal Momma had spent so much time preparing was drying out from being too long in the warming oven. Seven was the time we usually put the twins to bed, and they were growing hungry, sleepy and cross, demanding every second, "When is Daddy coming?"
I was wondering the same thing. My stomach hurt with hunger and I could tell by Christopher's constant checking of his watch that he was just as impatient. Even our neighbours and closest friends were looking at each other in confusion; Jim Johnston's eyes lowered in disappointment. He turned to whisper in his wife's ear, but she shook her head and hissed something like, "We have to wait!"
Then, I caught sight of a car turning into our tree-lined driveway.
"Oh!" I cried. "Maybe that's Daddy coming now!"
But the car that drew to a stop before our front door was white, not green. And on the top was one of those spinning red lights. An emblem on the side of that white car read STATE POLICE. Momma smothered a cry when two policemen dressed in blue uniforms approached our front door and rang our doorbell.
It was Jim Johnston who answered the door, and allowed the two state troopers to enter, glancing about uneasily, seeing, that this was an assembly gathered together for a birthday party. All they had to do was glance into the dining room and see the festive table, the balloons suspended from the chandelier, and the gifts on the buffet.
"Mrs. Christopher Garland Dollanganger?" inquired the older of the two officers as he looked from woman to woman.
Our mother nodded slightly, stiffly. I drew nearer, as did Christopher. The twins were on the floor, playing with tiny cars, and they showed little interest in the unexpected arrival of police officers. The kindly looking uniformed man with the deep red face stepped closer to Momma.
"Mrs. Dollanganger," he began in a flat voice that sent immediate panic into my heart, "there's been an accident on Greenfield Highway."
Before Momma or anyone else could answer, the policeman continued.
"Your husband is currently at Mercy Fitzgerald Hospital; he's in a serious condition."
For a moment, Momma appeared as if she were about to cry. Her eyes darkened and her mouth had remained open since the two men came through the door. Luckily, Jim came to her rescue.
"Officers, are we able to go and see him?"
"Only his kin will be able to enter his room, but the rest of you may wait in the corridors."
"Alright," Jim declared. "Corrine, I can drive you to the hospital." He turned to our most trusted babysitter. "Bertha, watch the kids; make sure that they are fed and put them straight to bed." Mrs. Simpson nodded.
"I wanna go to the hospital too," I piped up. Daddy needs me, I thought.
"Yeah," Christopher said, stepping up next to me. "Can I come with you as well?"
Jim turned to Momma, who nodded.
"Christopher, Cathy," she said. "You can come with us." She turned to the rest of the room. "Cory, Carrie: you'll be staying here. Be good to Mrs. Simpson. The rest of you: grab something to eat from the kitchen before you go."
I grabbed some chicken wings and bread rolls for everyone in the car: Jim, his wife, Momma, Christopher and me. The last thing I wanted was to collapse from hunger before reaching the hospital. As far as I knew, I could be seeing my dad for the last time.
The receptionist led us to the second floor, where Daddy was laying in one of the hospital beds. We were not allowed in his room yet. Through one of the windows, I noticed two doctors towering over him. One was scribbling on his clipboard, whereas the other fiddled with medical equipment I could not name.
A third man emerged, checking Daddy's vital signs it seemed. After a few physical procedures, he walked towards the window. I immediately leapt away and sat on the seat next to Christopher.
The door opened. Momma jumped up.
"Doctor, I need to know: is my husband alright?"
The man turned to her and gave a mild smile. "He's in a stable condition. He needs to rest for a while though." He paused. "And I'm not a doctor, I'm just a nurse."
It was Christopher's turn to stand. "We appreciate your help all the same, sir. Thank you."
Somehow, I cracked a smile. My brother always knew what to say, even in the most awkward situations. While I would react in anger when things did not go my way, Christopher would say something smart or funny and everybody would fall in love with him.
Jim and his wife waited with us. They were childless and did not need to head home anytime soon. Mrs. Johnston spent most of her days being employed at the local bookstore. Whenever Christopher and I were in need of school books, she would slash the prices in half and we would keep the leftover money to ourselves. She was too kind, unlike me, who did not even know her first name.
The clock struck two and the doctors finally let us in. As soon as I reached Daddy's side, I could not help but cry. High-pitched wails and salty warm tears came out of me as Momma held me.
I had never seen him look so vulnerable. The tall, handsome Christopher Sr. had now been reduced to an unconscious man decorated with cuts, bruises and bandages. His left leg had been plastered and elevated at a gentle angle, and his right cheek was wrinkled with stitches.
"He'll be fine, Cathy," Momma's voice broke. "He'll wake up and things will be back the way they were."
We cried together for a long time, with Christopher holding the both of us. Jim, who was also unable to control his tears, held his wife to him.
We would walk in and out of that hospital every day for a week. Even though we refused a million times, Momma would have us sent to school during the weekdays. No matter what the teachers said or made us do, nothing would sink into my brain. All I wanted to do was head back to the hospital and watch my dad, which we did everyday after school.
Seven days after the accident, Momma phoned home to tell us that Daddy was awake. Jim had also been told the good news and drove all four of us children to the hospital.
When Jim parked his car, I flew out of the passenger seat. I ran faster than the others, not caring that I forgot to shut the door behind me. I brushed past nurses and patients and accidentally bumped into a doctor along the way. I shouted an apology before finding Daddy's room and bursting in through the door.
The first thing I saw was Daddy sitting up on the bed. Momma stood next to the bed, her pink cardigan standing out from the white in the room. His face, which had been serious, broke out into a bright smile. He raised his arms as high as he could and beckoned me to him.
"Cathy... Come give me a hug!" He wheezed.
Careful not to hurt him any further, I walked over and gave him the gentlest hug I could. Shutting my eyes, I did my best to recall the last time we had held each other. To me, it had felt like years. Pulling Daddy close, my heart warmed for the first time in ages.
I did not want to lose my dad ever again.
Upon opening my eyes, I searched for Momma. She was still standing there, but I did not like what I saw. Her eyes flashed between anger and disappointment. It was rare for her to display such negative emotions. She even discouraged frowning in the family household, saying that it caused wrinkles.
Before I could question her, the rest of the Dollanganger siblings arrived. The twins piped up and bolted to my side.
"Daddy, Daddy!" Carrie cheered. I lifted her up onto the bed and did the same with Cory.
"Carrie, Cory, I've missed you kids so much," Daddy held the twins tight, one on each arm.
"But you've been asleep!" She exclaimed. "How could you have missed us when you were asleep?"
While Christopher had his chance to reunite with his father, I could not pull my eyes away from Momma, whose eyes still betrayed moments of seriousness. When Jim walked in and shook Daddy's hand, she slowly slipped away. She did not say a word or turn back when she stepped out into the corridor.
