Read Online House of Wonder by Sarah Healy - Free Book Online

“He’s the
best
.”
    When Bobby returned, he silently set to it, his face inches from Warren’s as he made small, careful stitches. “When this heals, you’ll hardly have a scar.” My mother stood by the head of the bed near Bobby as he worked. I sat in a chair near Warren’s feet. “Last one,” I heard Bobby say, with a snap of the scissors. They made a small clatter as he placed them back on the metal tray, on which blood-soaked wads of gauze were scattered. Once his tools were back in place, he returned his attention to my brother. “Warren,” he began, his voice low and calm. “Are you going to want to file a police report for this?”
    Warren’s brow immediately creased, as if the question were dangerous.
    â€œCan he think about it?” I asked quickly, wanting to relieve my brother.
    Bobby looked at me and nodded. “But with assault,” he said, “it’s best to involve the police as soon as possible.”
    My mother closed her eyes. I extended my hand. “Thank you, Bobby,” I said, full of gratitude, and humbled by it. “Thank you so much.”
    Bobby clasped my hand, then brought his other up to meet it, so that my hand was between his two. Here, in the place of his work, what I might once have read as arrogance seemed like maturity. Perhaps the sort that was hard-won. “If you need anything, Jenna, just let me know.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    We were given instructions about icing, painkillers, and potential problems against which to be vigilant. But really, Warren’s injuries were not severe compared with many that the ER saw. It was their implication that was upsetting.
    On the way out, Warren stopped to use the men’s room and my mother and I hovered outside. With my hands stuck in my jacket pockets, I had that jet-lag-like sensation of not knowing to which time zone I belonged. At two o’clock in the morning, the interior of the hospital was as bright as day and my mind felt as though it were on a treadmill, with thoughts and memories coming unbidden.
    I was sure that before tonight, Warren hadn’t set foot in a hospital since Rose was born. Duncan had already been in Japan then; he didn’t see Rose until she was three months old. But Warren came with my mother the very next day, in his Bill Cosby sweater and pleated khaki pants, ready to meet his niece.
    Rose was swaddled tightly in a white, pink, and blue blanket. I was holding her in my arms, feeling how light she was, feeling that somehow in her, life had been distilled and concentrated down to its purest form.
What am I going to call you?
I whispered. Duncan and I hadn’t settled on a name before he left, and his absence was as palpable as his presence might have been.
Huh, baby girl?
I rubbed my finger gently over the mark on her cheek and smiled. I didn’t want her to see any tears so early in her life.
What’s your name going to be?
It was then that I heard the squeak of Warren’s sneakers on the brightly waxed floor of the hallway.
    â€œI think it’s right here,” came my mother’s voice from behind the shut door. There was a brief knock and the door opened before I could have voiced any protest, had I wanted to. My mother was holding Warren’s upper arm and Warren was very still, looking at Rose from a distance with a guarded anticipation.
    â€œOh my goodness,” gushed my mother. “Let me
see
her.”Warren hung back as Mom rushed the bed, her eyes immediately settling on Rose’s birthmark. “Oh, it’s not bad,” she said, smiling softly. I had warned her on the phone about the birthmark.
It’s called a hemangioma,
I had said, my lower lip quivering.
It’s totally benign.
    â€œAnd I’m sure they can remove it if they need to,” added Mom.
    â€œThey said it’s small enough that it’ll probably go away on its own.” I smoothed