Vanilla

Thirty One

A/N: There's a short explanation of the previous chapter at the end of this one just in case after reading thing chapter, you are still confused about the text messages. I've used a flip phone before and know how text messaging used to work, but I'm never sure how young my audience actually is (I know for the Baked series, readers are considerably younger like some are 11 or 13 even) but just in case!! 

I was wondering why the previous chapter didn't seem to get much of a response compared to the previous one, and thought it might be due to it not being as interesting? Maybe? Hm. I don't know. I always try my best regardless!

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[Leroy]

They had ice cream and I assumed it had been a while since he had it. The flavour he liked. It was like they knew I was coming and decided to put every tub by the aisle I'd found the nail clipper in; the expensive kind that was at least three times the price of a usual tub but they were having a one for one promotion, so. I wasn't the kind to miss out on a good deal.

In the elevator back up to Annie's floor, a nurse recognized me and pointed out the odd sizing of the ice cream tub. "Those look like they're for babies!"

I told her they were cutting cost and she laughed like it was a joke. We got off on the same floor but she went down a different hallway. There was something happening down the one I was headed for. You could tell from the voices.

At the end of it was Annie's room so it was easy to tell when the doctors were over for a visit since no one else would have to be wandering around that area. I ran into a nurse speaking over her shoulder, a clipboard in her arms. She sounded calm enough for everything to be okay, going as far as to reassure the one I'd left Annie with. From the door, I sped through the key markers in the room—heartrate, tubing, bed, drip. Nothing came out of the assessment.

"Something up?" She was coming out of the room so I stopped her for a bit.

"Oh! You're Annie's son," the nurse angled her head to glance past the door and back into the room. "I was wondering if you'd gone and changed your entire image or something. Your fellow visitor called for assistance when he saw that she was tearing but you know that sort of thing, it happens all the time." She smiled and it was apologetic, but I wasn't the kind to be bothered by pity.

"Yeah. Thanks."

She nodded and then excused herself, heading down the hallway. I peered into the room. To register the scene required some time and effort; I wasn't expecting him to be open and familiar in the span of fifteen minutes or so, let alone holding Annie's hand and seated, like he usually would, unbelievably straight in the stool. Just him sitting on it gave the impression of a velvet armchair instead of hardware store plastic.

His eyes were slightly red and he was sniffling, so even at a distance, I could tell he had been crying. The reason behind this wasn't something I could connect the dots to since he didn't come across as an emotional kind of person. More rational than anything else. Things like heightened emotions from being in a hospital didn't seem like something that would affect him.

Annie remained still in her bed, as she had been. Eyes closed. He was holding on to her hand like it was a bird with a broken wing, nestled in both his hands, cupped and careful. This entire thing seemed to have absorbed him completely and he only appeared aware of my presence when I stepped into the room and removed my coat, draping it on one of the chairs.