The work lights John had borrowed from his neighbor remained at the hospital, so before John and Mike left to get Rose he charged Robin and Katie with positioning them as best they could along the path to the room. Hampered by time and available electricity, the lights were stationed intermittently. They provided sufficient illumination, freeing John and Mike from having to guide their mother in by flashlight, but they cast jagged veins of shadows along the passageway. They had just finished when they heard them coming.
John and Mike walked on either side of Rose, their hands lightly on her back and guiding her forward. Rose became silent in the car, and now she seemed to have withdrawn completely into herself as she shuffled slowly.
“You okay, Mom?” John asked gently. “We could stop and sit for a moment, if you want.”
She said nothing, just kept moving her feet in the direction she was pushed. John and Mike exchanged a look—there was no turning back.
They rounded a corner, and there stood Robin and Katie standing outside a door. Faces emerged from shadows—faces of loved ones, turning up in the oddest places. Rose felt comforted to see them, but confused that they should be here. She looked to them imploringly as Katie fought back a tearful sigh. She gave her grandmother a hug.
“Okay, Mom?” John said as Katie stepped back. “We’re going to go in now. We’re going to see Dad. Larry. He’s right inside. Are you ready?”
She looked to her sons. What had gone wrong with them, that they would be part of this?
But she nodded. Because they were her sons. Because she trusted them.
Mike opened the door. John took her elbow and escorted her in. Robin and Katie stayed in the hallway as the door closed.