I had eight days in the hospital and a million hours in this bed to think about it. I’m never going to be like everybody else. I’m never going to run the mile in gym. I’m never going to walk without the gait trainer. I can’t even reach the fountain drinks at McDonald’s.

But I don’t need Coralee to remind me.

Dear Dad,

Thank you for the flowers and the card. Mom says you’ve been worried about me, so I’m writing to tell you I’m fine. You don’t need to fly out here. I promise I’m better.

I’m still stuck in bed, though, so the iPad’s come in handy. So thank you again for that, too.

It sucks because I haven’t been able to bake since I’ve been home, but Mom promises a few more days and I can get back to it. I guess I’ve never told you that I like to bake.

Maybe next time I see you, I’ll make my oatmeal raisin cookies. Mom says those used to be your favorite. I kind of like them too.

Ellie

“Knock, knock.”

“Hi, Mema.”

“I brought you one of my sudoku books. Thought you might be bored of staring at the wall and giving your mama the silent treatment.”

She hands me Jumbo Sudoku and a sharpened pencil. She’s got on her gardening shoes and smells like turned-up earth.

“I’m not giving her the silent treatment.”

“Oh, all right. The teenage treatment, then. One syllable at a time.”

“She can’t make me go home.”

“Oh, honey.” She pulls my hair back and starts to braid it in a fishtail like she used to when I was little. It feels good.

“Your mama just wants to do right by you.”

“Don’t I get a vote?”

“Of course you do, love. But we’ve got to keep you healthy, and maybe this isn’t the place to do that.”

“So you’re kicking me out?”

I pull away from her hands and look at her.

“What? No. I would never kick a member of my family out. Unless they criticized my cooking, and you would never do such a thing.”

“God wouldn’t want you to give up on me.” It’s a sneaky move, throwing God at her.

She’s not fooled. “Don’t you throw the Good Book at me, Lily Belle Cowan. God knows I am not giving up on you. And you do too.”

She lets my hair go and stands.

“You and your mama need to talk. Woman to woman. Work this out.” She picks up the pink jug that the hospital let me take home. “I’m putting sweet tea in this thing, see if it can’t sweeten you up.”