Mary stood at Judy’s bedside while she rested, a greenish oxygen tube snaking her friend’s nose, an IV running to the back of her hand, and a plastic wire traveling to a clip on her index finger. She had gone into shock, but the bullet had only pierced her shoulder and she was going to be fine. Mary sent up a thankful prayer as her mother smothered Judy’s face with kisses.
“Ma.” She placed a hand on her mother’s soft back. “If you keep this up, she’ll need more oxygen.”
“Jud’, Jud’, ti amo.” Her mother smoothed Judy’s bright red bangs from her forehead. “Ti amo.”
“Thanks.” Judy smiled and her weary gaze shifted to Mary’s father, who was attached to her hand more securely than the IV. “I love you guys.”
“WE LOVE YOU, TOO, KIDDO.” Her father patted her hand, and Mary smiled.
“Jude, your parents are on the way, and we told them you were okay. We caught them right before their plane took off.”
“Good. Thanks.” Judy sighed, and her eyes fell on Mary, at the foot of the bed. For a minute neither of them said anything.
“I’m so sorry,” Mary said, softly.
“What for?”
“For not believing you. For giving you such a hard time. For being such a bad friend. For almost getting you killed.”
“Guilt city.” Judy reached for her hand. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
“Yes I do.”
“No, you don’t. It’s okay. Friends fight.”
“Not us.”
“Once every ten years, even us. That’s how we know we care. Agree with me, would you? I’m perforated, for God’s sake.”
“Okay. I agree.” Mary nodded.
“Where’s Bennie and Grady?”
“Off, after Alice.”
“Good.” Judy’s gaze shifted toward the door, which was opening.
They all turned to see who was coming in, including Mary.
Standing in the threshold was Anthony.