Part 3The Phone Call

The next morning, the phone woke me up. It was my mom. "Jenna, feeling better? Did you sleep well?"

I looked around the empty room. "Much better," I said quietly.

"That's good," she said, her voice cheerful. "Guess what? Your father bought a huge fish for your brother yesterday and made soup to help his brain! Tyler loved it!"

I was silent, not knowing how to respond.

"By the way, did you find out how much insurance will cover? If you get a lot back, you can just use that money for now. If it's not enough, let us know."

"Okay."

"Alright, well, you get some rest. I'm going to make your brother some lunch!"

The call ended. I stared at the ceiling, a cold feeling spreading through me.

Michael came to visit, pushing his IV stand. "How are you? Better?"

I nodded. "Much better. Where are your parents?"

"My dad went back to work, and my mom went to the grocery store." He sat down in the chair by my bed. "When are your parents coming?"

"They're not," I said quietly.

Michael frowned. "Why not? You still need someone to take care of you."

"My brother has his SATs. They can't get away." I said the words, but I didn't even believe them myself.

"The SATs are important, but you live in the same city. One of them could have stayed home, and the other could have at least brought you a meal."

I forced a smile. "It's okay. I can take care of myself."

"Take care of yourself?" Michael pointed at my hand, still connected to the IV. "You can barely even eat by yourself."

Just then, Mrs. Davis returned with a big bag of groceries. "Jenna, you're awake! I bought you some fruit and snacks. For when you get hungry." She pulled out a fancy-looking container. "This is protein powder. For post-op recovery. It helped Michael recover really fast."

"Mrs. Davis, that's too expensive. I can't take it."

"Take it!" she insisted. "I already bought it, and I can't return it. It's hard for you young people, all alone out here. We have to look out for each other."

I took the container, my eyes welling up again.

At lunchtime, while Mrs. Davis was serving us food, my parents video-called. "Jenna, have you eaten? What are you having?" my mom's face appeared on the screen.

I showed her the nutritious meal Mrs. Davis had made. "The family of the patient next door made it for me."

"Oh, that looks delicious! See? There are still good people in the world!" my mom said with a laugh. "Tyler is having a feast today! Your dad made him lamb stew! It's very nourishing!"

The camera turned to their dining table, which was laden with food. In the center was a large pot of steaming lamb stew. My brother was stuffing his face, grease dripping from his chin.

"Hey, sis, look how tender this lamb is!" he said, showing off to the camera.

A wave of resentment washed over me. "Mom, I could use some nourishment too..."

"Oh, honey, you have the patient's family taking care of you!" my mom said dismissively. "This is a critical time for your brother. He needs to eat well! Okay, gotta go! The lamb will get cold!"

The video ended. I stared at my phone, my hand trembling. Mrs. Davis had seen the whole thing. She sighed and patted my shoulder. "Jenna, honey, I'll make you lamb stew tonight."