HUGE 3D: Chapter 18

For the hundredth time, I rub the back of my neck. It’s strained as I hunch over in the uncomfortable pull-out chair next to Nana’s bed. I fight to keep my eyes open.

Mom is whispering to Auntie Amanda, both of them watching Nana’s monitors. She’s been asleep for an hour now, finally letting herself rest after struggling to talk to us all night. The dim lighting in the room only makes it harder to stay awake.

“I know, Amanda, I know,” Mom says, the two of them talking over all the final preparations for Nana. It still doesn’t feel real that we’re here, that we’re even talking about any of this. I keep out of the loop of the conversation, unable to let my mind go there just yet.

“Mom, do you think they have a vending machine somewhere around here?” I whisper, stretching as I stand up.

“Yeah, down the hall from the other side of the nurse’s station, honey. Can you grab me something too? Maybe some chips or—”

A piercing alarm goes off from one of the machines Nana’s hooked up to, shrieking in a rhythm that tears through my chest. My aunt runs to the door while Mom presses the call button on the bed, both of their sleepy voices coming to life in desperation.

The nurses and the doctor rush in and push past us to check the monitors, running vitals on Nana. I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t know how I ended up over here on the other side of the room, watching in horror as they hover over her.

The doctor’s face is determined. He’s trying to resuscitate her, pushing on her chest like that. It’s too calm in here, but at the same time, there’s chaos. Auntie Amanda grabs onto Mom and they hold each other tightly. No one’s wrapped around me and for once I wish that wasn’t true. Maybe it takes things falling apart to realize how much you need other people to keep you together.

I can see the medical staff trying. They are trying so hard, but Nana is old and sick and I know in my heart that this is it. I don’t know how long they keep going for because time seems frozen, but all of us seem to sense when it’s over. Then the doctor’s shoulders slump, the nurses glance past him to us. It’s like my chest is collapsing in on itself. I try to look away because I know she’s gone, but I can’t.

Finally, I let go of the breath I was holding, my feet moving even though I’m completely numb. Richard moves past me into the room, and I hear my Mom call out to him, crying. Nursing staff leave the room. Needing the space from everyone and everything, I follow them out and run down the hall, trying to place where I am. The guys are calling for me but I ignore them.

I can’t breathe.

The moment I’m in the bathroom stall, I let out the sob that’s been building up inside of me all night. I should hold it back, calm down even, but it just gets worse.

Memories of Nana flow through me. When she was healthy, pushing me on the tire swing in her backyard, letting me help her bake brownies, smiling her dazzling smile. My shoulders sag as I slump against the toilet, not giving a damn about how grossed out I should be. It feels like everything I’ve ever eaten comes back up, my stomach wrenching in on itself even when it’s long been emptied. I desperately wipe at my mouth, the sour taste not doing me any good.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but it feels like an eternity before I hear someone on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Milly? Are you okay?”

The door muffles his voice but I know it’s Dane, just like I know Dylan is standing close by frowning uncomfortably while Drew is the one I can hear begin to anxiously pace the floor.

I take a deep breath, wishing they’d just go away. I don’t want them to see me like this. No such luck, though, when I hear the bathroom door creak as it opens.

“I’m coming in. Sorry if there’s anyone else in here,” Dane mumbles.

I stare at the floor, find the pair of black sneakers taking cautious steps toward the stall.

“C’mon, Mills. Come out here. I don’t want to have to climb under there. I mean I will, but I don’t want to.”

“Go-way, Dane,” I mumble, wiping my mouth on some tissue.

“No, baby. We’re not going anywhere,” he says.

“Come out, Mills,” Dylan says.

A whole well of sadness pours out of me now. Why is it that grief drives you to be alone when what you really need are arms around you and a voice to tell you everything’s okay? I need them to hold me together. I shuffle to my feet using more tissue to wipe my face. Sliding the lock out of place, I let the door swing open, and when I look up, he’s there, his eyes full of concern, his arms wide open. He doesn’t say anything when I walk into them and let him hold me like I’m a precious child who’s scraped their knee. He says nothing when I sob against his chest, struggling to catch my breath. He just holds me and lets me be. He holds me until I’ve cried myself out and my heart has slowed. Then he tells me they are here for me and that whatever I need from them, I’ve only got to ask. I nod because there are no words on the tip of my tongue, only a swell of love in my heart. I tell him I’m ready to go outside, and he leads me out into the hallway where Dylan and Drew are waiting, arms crossed and faces marred with concern. They look to Dane and he nods.

Both of them seem to relax a little.

“Mills, your aunt is getting ready to leave. She just finished signing some paperwork I guess. Dad took Kelly back to their hotel room a few minutes ago. He uh, wants us to help take care of you and make sure you’re okay,” Dane says, letting go of the arm he was protectively resting his hand against.

Passing by a large window to another section of the hospital, I catch my reflection in the glass, startled at just how awful I look. My hair is all over the place, my face puffy and red. Any make-up I had on is long gone. I quickly wipe at my face, embarrassed. I don’t want the guys to think I’m just some weak girl who needs to be coddled, but my mind is so exhausted by everything that’s going on that it barely registers as we walk to the elevators.

The car ride is eerily quiet. I roll my window down, glad for the fresh air even in the middle of the night, wondering how the hell I’m going to get any sleep tonight.

The tears don’t seem to want to quit just yet. Every time I think about Nana they silently slip down my face, soaking the front of my shirt. I can feel the triplets glancing across at me every so often. Nana’s soft words echo through my mind. Would she understand the crazy situation I’m in? Would she believe that it could be possible to love more than one man at the same time?

All this time I’ve been trying to push my feelings about Dane, Dylan and Drew down deep inside. I’ve tried to make light of it. Play it off as a crazy sexual fantasy. Make believe that I can just switch back into stepsister mode after everything that’s happened. I’ve tried to diminish their motivations for pursuing me, but I know how I feel in my heart about my stepbrothers.

But Nana’s gone, and mom is suffering, and I’m so sad that all I want to do is curl up on a bed and cry myself to sleep. Most of all, I know that I don’t want to be alone right now. As we get to the hotel, I find myself craving their warmth. I need them to be near me. I need them to hold me.

Inside the reception, the pretty, younger front desk attendant raises her head. “Good evening. Checking in?” I try to pretend that I don’t notice the way she drooling over my stepbrothers. They don’t pay her more than passing, polite attention, too focused on sorting out our accommodation and checking that I’m still holding it together.

It’s nicely decorated and blissfully cool in here. Drew slides her a credit card, nodding. “We need two rooms. Preferably next to each other, or at least close by.”

“No.” The word is out of my mouth before I’ve even registered. Everyone turns to me. “I don’t want to be alone,” I whisper to Dane.

The triplets turn to the attendant. “One family room,” Drew amends. She raises her eyebrows. Maybe it was the word family because while they are very obviously related, I don’t look like them at all.

It feels like my legs are made of lead. I don’t know which is more tired—my mind or my body. When we do make it to the room, the bed is practically calling for me. The clock on the nightstand flashes a bright red 3:18. No wonder I’m so tired.

“I’ll fix the temperature, you guys help her get situated,” Drew says, slinging my tote bag onto the desk chair.

Part of me knows this isn’t right, that I shouldn’t be taking advantage of how they feel about me, but all I want is for them to hold me. To feel them support me while I come undone. When I peel my shirt and pants off, I don’t even blush. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before, anyway.

The triplets seem to understand exactly what I need. Dane pulls back the covers and the three of them get undressed down to their underwear, too. I manage to pull myself up and under the covers, and bury my face in the pillow.

I feel them all getting into bed around me. Hands caress my hair, my shoulder, my back. It takes a while but I relax, and my body finally gives way to the pull of sleep.