My father Frank joined the call through their house extension phone and spoke sharply. “Diane you always exaggerate every problem and we are not driving two hours for something minor.”
“It was not minor because the doctor said it could have become life threatening,” I replied.
“Call us when something serious happens,” he said before hanging up abruptly.
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.