Chapter 5 Hospitals and the visitors (Lotus)
“THANK YOU JESUS! HALLELUJAH! WE SERVE A MIGHTY GOD!”
Oh no.
Carole.
Her mama came in hot like a holy hurricane, arms flailing, shouting tongues like they were on sale. She had on black leggings with gold glitter up the sides, gold high-top sneakers catching every bit of fluorescent light, and a loud leopard-print cap cocked just slightly down like it was about to testify. Her oversized T-shirt screamed “PUT IT IN GOD’S HANDS” in blinding gold letters that looked like they were melting.
Behind her came the full Praise Posse: three church ladies armed with off-brand holy oil and ragged Bibles thicker than most medical textbooks. One woman’s wig was doing the most it leaned hard to the left like it caught the Spirit mid-praise and hadn’t recovered since Easter '07.
“MA,” Lotus rasped, voice barely above gravel.
“Baby! You made it! YOU ALMOST MET THE LORD, but HE said NOT YET!” Carole wailed, reaching to lay hands with one palm and fan herself with the other.
Before Lotus could ask for water, Sister Doreen had already cracked open the blessed oil like it was Gatorade. “Let the healing virtue FLOW, Jesus!” she bellowed, pouring it directly on Lotus’s forehead with no warning.
Slap. A palm landed firm.
Tap tap. Another woman laid two fingers right on her chest.
Shake shake. One more waved a tattered Bible like it was a fly swatter.
“LORD, BREATHE ON THIS CHILD!”
“SATAN, GET YOUR FOOT OFF HER COLLARBONE!”
“USE HER FOR YOUR GLORY, LAWD!”
Lotus blinked through the oil drip sliding into her eye. “I just… wanted water.”
Thirty minutes later after a rousing four-part harmony of “Jesus Is My Ambulance “Carole finally turned to the congregation, out of breath and out of hallelujahs.
“Alright, saints. She need rest now.”
There was a slow collective nod, like the Holy Ghost himself had given permission. They filed out, still humming, one of them leaving behind a margarine container labeled in black Sharpie:
Sister Cheryl’s Soul-Reaching Collard Greens and Cornbread.
The room felt different once the church people left. Their shouts, their prayers, their hands pressing heavy on her chest all of it had finally drained out, leaving only the hum of machines and the steady rhythm of her breath. For the first time, Lotus and her mother were alone.
Relief washed through her. Maybe now, she thought, they could talk. Maybe now she could ask the questions clawing at her ribs what happened, how she ended up broken in this bed, why her memory kept collapsing into black. She braced herself for honesty, for comfort.
But before a word passed between them, her mother reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. The lens flashed awake. Her voice shifted into that practiced sweetness reserved for strangers online. “Hi Facebook family, I’m here spending time with my daughter. Thank you all for the prayers.”
Lotus’s heart sank. She lay there, lips dry, hair matted against her face, staring at her mother perform love through a glowing screen. The moment she thought would be theirs real, quiet, sacred had been traded for likes and comments.
From across the room, Ms. Carole added fuel, still scrolling. “Baby, you the talk of the town now. Word done got out about your accident. Everybody asking. Even your mama didn’t know you had that kind of reach.” She chuckled. “All over social media.”
But Lotus didn’t care about reach, or talk, or strangers. She wanted her mother. She wanted answers. She felt confuse.
When the camera light finally clicked off, her mom didn’t stay close.
“Ma…” Lotus murmured.
Carole was already unzipping lotus purse the nurse put beside her. “The lights out at the house. And your Sister dropped dem grandbabies Lili and Lil man again talking’ ‘bout she needed a break. I had to buy diapers and food. I need your card just till Thursday.”
Lotus winced, face twisted against the stiff pillow.
“Mama… I’m laid up in this hospital bed. Least you could do is bring me some water. I been asking’ for the last thirty minutes.”
Her mother snapped out of her phone haze. “Oh, yeah, here, baby.” She shoved the cup over, straw tilted clumsy. One hand slipped behind Lotus’s shoulders, lifting her just enough so she could sip. The water slid cool down her throat, and Ms. Carole eased her back like she was tucking a child.
“I know, baby,” Carole sighed, her voice caught between relief and exhaustion. “Thank God you still here.”
But the comfort didn’t last long. Thumb back to the screen, she started tapping through her apps, mind already running in a dozen directions. “We got babies to feed,” she muttered, almost to herself. “I’ll send you the receipt.”
Lotus stared, chest heavy. Even in that hospital bed, half-broken and wired to machines, she could feel it the world never stopped for her pain.
Her mama loved her, no doubt about that. But love was never the issue. Presence was.
Her mother was always around, yet somehow never there. Always pulled into something church gossip, family drama, work stress, bills, or somebody else’s storm. She let every distraction become her priority.
And in that quiet moment, it hit Lotus hard: her mother had been in her life, but she was never a necessity.
She was there out of duty, not devotion. There in body, but never in focus.
Love was present but misplaced, scattered across a hundred things that weren’t her.
Lotus turned her head, disappointment carving deeper than the bruises. Her mama had shown up
with praise and prayer and gospel on loop but she hadn’t stayed long enough to help her heal. Just enough to pass the weight back to her.
Always her.
Always Lotus picking up the pieces.
She didn’t argue. Just waved her hand weakly. “Take it.”
Carole kissed her forehead and rolled out the door like she had somewhere holy to be.
30 minutes after her mother left
Boom! The hospital room door swung open.
Chapter 6 -The Guest (Lotus)
Joy burst through the hospital room door like she owned the building, hips swinging, lips glossed, and attitude turned to max volume.
“Move it or lose it, people! My best friend is ALIVE and looking’ like she done outran the reaper in heels!” she shouted, launching a fat llama plushie straight onto the bed like it was some sacred offering.
Joy was five-foot-four of concentrated chaos and caramel Dominican-Black hybrid, kissed by sunlight and dipped in sass. Her curls bounced with each step like they had their own opinions, and her lips? Heart-shaped and drama-ready, lined in brown with that classic ‘hood baddie’ pink-nude combo smeared dead center like a stamp of approval from the Bronx beauty gods. She was chunky in the cute way, with a belly that didn’t care what society thought, and thighs that clapped back when she walked.
And personality? Whew. She had enough for a whole reality show and the reunion special.
Eyes scanning the room like she was ready to start a sermon herself. Gave a sparkling smile with mischief look. "Well, well, well, all that twerking got your pass to heaven Denied obviously since now you still here," she said, throwing a playful wink at Lotus
Lotus, eyes half-lidded and mouth twisted in her signature dry wit, propped herself up on one elbow. Her voice was raspy, half-mocking. “Girl, if I had known you were gonna come in here looking like a walking 'Black Friday at Target' sale, I’d have stayed unconscious.”
Joy gasped loud and theatrical. “And if I had known you’d survive, I would’ve brought snacks instead of this damn llama. We both out here starving!”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Three significant males in Lotus's life entered the room slowly, hesitating when they saw her.
"How could you leave us like this, J? You could at least let us know what room she was in," Cam said.
Lotus turned her attention to her younger brother, Cam, who stood near the door. At fifteen years old, he was rapidly developing into his physique, resembling Lotus with his lean build and side-parted fade haircut. His gaze fixed on her as she lay in bed, and he froze upon seeing her. She did not resemble his sister; she appeared fragile, a side of her he had never witnessed before one that was not holding everything together. This realization deeply affected him.
She had been like a second mother to him, the one who prepared his lunch when their actual mother was absent, engaging in religious activities. She had also been the one who threatened to confront his bullies and comforted him after he got hurt. Observing her now, so still connected to various tubes, pale and bruised Cam clenched his fists and blinked hard, determined not to cry.
Xavier, also 15 years old who is Joy's little brother and resemble joy side of the family, stood beside Cam, quiet yet vigilant. He was stocky, standing at 5’9”, with a short curly afro and a wide stance, as though he were protecting something precious. His focus remained on the medical equipment, as if they held answers for him.
Jason, her boyfriend trailing behind them slightly, seemed weighed down by the gravity of the situation. With boyish good looks, deep dimples, a clean beard, and eyes filled with concern, he approached Lotus slowly. Upon seeing her, his composed demeanor collapsed.
He carefully leaned down, touched her forehead with a trembling hand, and gently kissed it. “You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Lotus looked up at him, her lips cracked, her heart swelling. Just seeing him provided her with a moment of grounding and a brief sense of calm.