When August Ends
She’s coming with me?
“You don’t even have a bag.”
“I don’t need one. Come on.”
“Thank you,” I breathed, overwhelmed by her gesture.
“Of course.”
We managed to board the plane in the nick of time. When the engines roared, it was the first moment I could breathe. I was on my way to him. Ming grabbed my hand as we took off, and once again I thanked my lucky stars that I didn’t have to go through this by myself.
As I stared out at the night sky from thousands of feet in the air, I tried not to think the worst. I tried not to focus on the fact that I knew damn well that aneurysms were bad news. In high school, I’d lost my beloved music teacher to one. But that wasn’t going to happen to Noah. No. No. It couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to think about that.
Focus on the raindrops on the window. Focus on the sound of the juice cart being wheeled down the aisle. Focus on the feel of Ming’s hand.
***
The hospital was about a thirty-minute drive from the airport. I’d done a good job of not focusing on the negative while on the plane, but things felt different now that I was on land again. I wanted to be better prepared for whatever I might find, so I made the mistake of Googling aneurysms on my phone in the car.
Fifteen percent of patients die before ever reaching the hospital.
Four out of seven people will have disabilities.
Even if people survive a rupture, there’s a chance of re-bleeding. Approximately seventy percent of those people die.
My phone fell out of my hands, and I felt myself hyperventilate.
Ming held on to me. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Nothing can happen to him,” I cried.
I kept wanting Ming to tell me everything was going to be okay, but she never did. I knew she didn’t want to promise something she couldn’t guarantee.
When we got to the hospital, Ming did all of the talking to find out where we needed to go. As we entered the surgical waiting area, I realized I didn’t even know what Noah’s dad looked like. Just when I was about to text Noah’s phone, someone called my name.
“Heather?”
I turned around to find an older man with Noah’s big brown eyes staring back at me—eyes that looked red from crying.
“Yes!” I cried. “Hi.”
“No news yet. He’s still in surgery,” he said as he pulled me in for a hug.
His warmth was comforting. So relieved to finally be here, I expelled a breath. At least nothing had changed for the worse. There was still hope.
“Are you alone?” I asked him.
“Yes. Noah’s mother and brother are flying in from Minneapolis, but they won’t get here for another few hours.”
It broke my heart that he’d been waiting here by himself.
“Oh, um…this is my friend Ming. She accompanied me here.”
“Hi,” he said.
Ming smiled. “Pleasure to meet you.” She turned to me. “I’m gonna find a bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
After she left, I faced Mr. Cavallari again. The look of fear in his eyes was enough to shatter whatever protective mechanisms I’d been using thus far. I could feel my tears creeping in.
Judge Judy was playing on the television mounted on the wall. Her abrasive tone was particularly agitating, given my state.
“We have to stay positive.” Noah’s dad took my hands in his. “Do you believe in prayer?”
“In all honesty, I grew up without religion and never prayed much. But I’ve prayed non-stop since leaving Vermont. It’s almost instinctual, just desperate wishes for anyone up there who will listen.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Keep it up.”
“I will.” I paused, my emotions bubbling over. “Mr. Cavallari, Noah is everything to me.”
Still holding my hands, he said, “You mean so much to him. When he talks about you, his entire being lights up, like I’ve never seen before.”
“He has to be okay. He just has to.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw a woman with long, dark hair. I realized she was Olivia, Noah’s ex-wife.
She looked right at me. With tears in her eyes, she said, “You must be Heather.”
“Yes.”
“I’m—”
“Olivia. I know. It’s good to meet you.”
“Good to meet you, too.”
It was amazing how feelings like jealousy could take a backseat in times of crisis. In a strange way, I wanted her here. Noah needed the support and good vibes of everyone who cared about him right now.
Olivia embraced Mr. Cavallari.
“What’s happening, Neil?” she asked him.
“They told me to expect the surgery to last about five hours. We’ve got another hour to go. No one has come out since he went in.” He let her go. “I’m gonna go see if I can find anything out. I’ll be right back.”
Neil walked away, leaving Olivia and me alone in the waiting area.
“You got here fast,” she said.
“Fast as I could.”
Ming suddenly appeared. “Hey.”
“Ming, this is Olivia, Noah’s ex-wife.”
After they shook hands, Ming gave me a look that said, holy shit.
Ming must have felt awkward, because she excused herself again. “I’m gonna sit down over there. Just holler if you need me.”
“Okay.”
“You know, I saw him today,” Olivia told me.
“You did?”
“Yes. He seemed fine. Perfectly healthy.”
“Around what time did you see him?”
“About noon. I stopped by his house for, like, fifteen minutes so he could meet my daughter. She had a doctor’s appointment in the area.”
I thought back to the phone message Noah had left me. That was sometime before one in the afternoon. It must have been right after she left.
“So he didn’t seem off at all?” I asked.
“No. He didn’t.”
Olivia looked just as worried as I felt.
“You know what the last thing he said to me was?” she asked.
“What?”
“That I’m a good mother and he’s proud of me.” She burst into tears. “We’ve been through a lot, so that really meant the world to hear.”
I reached out to hug her. We embraced as two people who needed each other’s support. This wasn’t the time for bitterness or ego. All that mattered was Noah pulling through. He needed us—all of us.
As I let her go, I said, “He’s always spoken so highly of you.”
Olivia sniffled. “It was hard for me to hear him admit he’d fallen in love with you.”
What?
My heartbeat accelerated. “He told you that?”
“He did. Is that a surprise?”
“Well, he hasn’t said it in those exact words, but…”
Could that be what he was calling to tell me?
“Well, he most definitely said it in those words today, Heather. He told me he loves you. I’d been questioning his intentions when it came to your relationship, and he shot that down. He’s very protective of his feelings for you. I’d never seen that side of Noah. I thought you might need to hear that right now.”
“You’re right. I do. Thank you.” We hugged again, and I laughed a little. “This is weird, right?”
“Totally weird.” She smiled.
Such a strange mix of emotions swirled through me: joy from knowing that Noah loved me and excruciating fear that I would never get to hear that directly from him.
Neil Cavallari reappeared, looking defeated. “The nurse didn’t have any new information. She promised to let me know if she hears anything from the doctors.”
He took a seat across from us and placed his head in his hands. I went to sit down, and Ming moved from her seat in the corner to be next to me.
We all sat in silence, the sadness and fear in the air so overwhelming you could practically see it. I returned to saying prayers in a loop. It felt like my entire life was on the line. The fate of my future was down that mysterious hallway leading into the operating room.
Olivia suddenly stood. “My husband just texted. He’s driving around with the baby, and she’s hungry. I’m going to go feed her and come back. Please text me if the doctor comes out.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” Neil said.
A few minutes later, someone in blue scrubs came rushing toward us. Neil and I stood in unison.
He addressed Noah’s father. “The surgery was successful. We won’t know until he wakes up how much neurological damage there was. He was very lucky that the people in the supermarket acted fast and the hospital was nearby. We were able to get in as quickly as possible to stop the bleeding. But the fact is, if damage did occur, treating the aneurysm won’t reverse it. Rest assured that we did everything we could, and his vitals right now are good.”
“Can we see him?” Neil asked.
“I’m going to ask you to give us a little bit. Someone will come out and bring you into recovery soon. He’s going to be in the ICU for at least two to three weeks while we monitor him for complications.”
“How many people fully recover after something like this?” I asked.
“About fifteen to thirty percent of people escape major difficulties, so that outcome is the exception rather than the rule.”