This Girl: A Novel

know,” I said louder.
    “Maybe you should come . . .”
    “I don’t want to.”
    And I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to set foot back inside that hospital. Back inside the building that now housed the three of them. Lifeless.
    “Will, you need to come . . .”
    “I don’t want to!” I screamed.
    My grandfather—my poor grandfather just nodded and sighed. What else could he have done? What else could he have said? My entire life had just been ripped from me and I wasn’t about to listen to reassurances from nurses or doctors or clergymen or even my grandparents. I didn’t want to hear it.
    My grandfather hesitantly took a few steps away from me, leaving me alone in the grass. Before heading back inside, he turned around one last time.
    “It’s just that Caulder has been asking for you. He’s scared. So when you’re ready . . .”
    I immediately snapped my head in his direction. “Caulder?” I said. “Caulder’s not . . .”
    My grandfather immediately shook his head. “No, son. No. Caulder’s fine.”
    It wasn’t until those words came out of his mouth that everything hit me all at once. My chest swelled and the heat rose to my face, then my eyes. I pulled my hands to my forehead and I rolled onto my knees, my elbows buried in the grass, and I completely lost it. Sounds came from deep within me that I didn’t even know I was capable of. I cried harder than I’ve ever cried before—harder than I’ve cried since. I sat on the lawn of that hospital and I cried tears of joy, because Caulder was okay.
    “Are you okay?” Julia asks, breaking me out of my trance.
    I nod, trying to push back the memories of that day. “I’m fine.”
    She readjusts her position on the couch and sighs. “I don’t want her to have to raise Kel,” she says. “Lake needs the chance to live her own life. I’d never burden her like that.”
    “Julia,” I say, speaking confidently from experience, “it would burden her not to have him.” Not having the choice to raise Kel would kill Lake. Just like it killed me when I thought I’d lost Caulder. It would absolutely devastate her.
    Julia doesn’t respond, indicating I may have crossed my boundaries with that comment. We both sit quietly on the couch for a while. I feel like neither of us has anything else to say, so I stand up.
    “I’ll take the boys somewhere this afternoon. I’ll make sure Layken wakes up before I go so you guys will have time to talk.”
    “Thank you,” she says, smiling a genuine smile at me. It feels good. I respect Julia’s opinion and having her disappointed in me feels almost as bad as when Lake is disappointed in me.
    I nod, then turn and leave. I make my way back inside the house and back into the bedroom where Lake is still sleeping. I ease onto the bed at her side and take a seat.
    “Lake,” I whisper, trying to wake her successfully this time.
    She doesn’t move, so I pull the covers off her head. She groans and pulls them back up.
    “Lake, wake up.”
    She kicks her legs, then throws the covers off. It’s well past lunchtime and she acts like she could sleep twelve more hours. She opens her eyes and squints, then finds me sitting next to her. She’s got mascara smeared underneath her eyes, some of which is still on my pillowcase. Her hair is in disarray. Her ponytail holder is on the sheet beside her. She looks like hell. A beautiful hell.
    “You really aren’t a morning person,” I say.
    She sits up on the bed. “Bathroom. Where’s your bathroom?”
    I point to the bathroom across the hall and watch as she leaps off the bed and darts for the door. She’s definitely awake now, but I can almost guarantee she needs coffee.
    I go to the kitchen and make us both a cup. When she comes out of the bathroom I take a seat and place her coffee next to me.
    “What time is it?”
    “One-thirty.”
    “Oh,” she says, shocked. “Well . . . your bed’s really comfortable.”
    I smile and nudge her shoulder. “Apparently.”
    We drink our coffee and she doesn’t say anything else. I have no idea where her head is at, so I remain silent, allowing her to think. When we finish our coffee, I put the cups in the sink and tell her I’m taking the boys to a matinee. “We’re leaving in a few minutes. I’ll probably take them to dinner afterward, so we’ll be back around six. Should give you and your mom time to talk.”
    She frowns at me. “What if I don’t want to talk? What if I want to go to a matinee?”
    I lean