I sat there stunned for several seconds before standing again because Kayla still needed me regardless of my parents.
When Kayla woke from recovery she looked pale and fragile with tubes running from her arm to antibiotic bags. She whispered that everything hurt and then asked the question I dreaded.
“Did Grandma and Grandpa hear about the surgery and are they coming to see me,” she asked hopefully.
“They know about it but they could not come tonight,” I answered carefully.
The next two days passed slowly with doctors monitoring infection levels while Kayla tried to rest. On the second afternoon my phone buzzed with a message from a nurse saying that my parents had arrived and were visiting Kayla.
Confusion slammed through me because they had refused to come earlier. I ran down the hallway and reached the room just as my mother sat beside Kayla’s bed smiling politely.
“Well you look perfectly fine to me,” Susan said to Kayla with a rehearsed expression.
Kayla blinked uncertainly. “The doctor said my appendix almost burst and that was dangerous,” she explained.
Doctors exaggerate problems because it makes them seem important,” my father added casually.
Something in my chest tightened as I stepped forward. “You should not be having this conversation right now because Kayla needs rest,” I said firmly.
Susan ignored me completely and leaned toward Kayla. “Your mother mentioned that you have been seeing a therapist for anxiety and that concerns us,” she began calmly.
Kayla glanced at me nervously. “Yes I talk with a therapist because sometimes my thoughts get overwhelming,” she admitted softly.
My father crossed his arms with visible irritation. “Children should not need therapy unless something is wrong with them,” he declared.
“You are upsetting her and you need to leave immediately,” I said sharply.
Susan continued speaking as if I had not interrupted. “Your anxiety is extremely difficult for your mother and honestly for the entire family,” she told Kayla gently.
Kayla’s eyes filled with tears. “I am trying really hard to manage it,” she whispered.
Frank shrugged with cold indifference. “When we heard about your surgery we thought perhaps it would be easier if you had not survived it,” he said bluntly.
The room became silent except for the faint beep of the monitor beside Kayla’s bed.
“What did you just say,” Kayla breathed in shock.