Read Coma Girl: part 2 for Free Online Page A

measure the universe, or if a comatose state is some sort of dimension between life and the afterlife. Instead I’m whiling away the hours with thoughts equivalent to how many licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll lollipop.
    Jesus, can a girl not escape the pressure of expectation even when she’s in a coma?

     

August 16, Tuesday
     
     
    “THE HOUSE HAS SIX BATHROOMS—six. It’s an amazing place and I’m so lucky to get the listing.”
    Carrie Kemp, Real Estate Agent, is on a roll, it seems.
    “My broker says if I sell half the listings I’ve picked up, I’ll make the Million Dollar Club for sure. They have their sales conferences in Hawaii! I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii.”
    Ditto. Send me a postcard.
    “It’s so exciting to see how the other half lives, Marigold. It’s a real eye-opener. All this time I’ve settled for run of the mill, but there’s a whole other level of luxury out there, and it’s within reach.”
    Someone had kidnapped my mom and replaced her with Tony Robbins.
    “Your father simply doesn’t understand, but he’s always been an under-achiever.”
    Okay, there’s my confirmation that all is not well on the Homefront. Something else to feel guilty about because I know my situation has introduced untold amounts of stress between my parents, and they appear to be dealing with the upheaval in their own way rather than together. Dad is on an extended business trip, and Mom has a whole new vocabulary with terms like “fee simple estate” and “deed-in-lieu.”
    My coma had sparked my mother’s mid-life crisis.
    “This is what he always does, you know. When things get tense, he goes on a business trip.”
    He does? I’m not sure I want to know these things.
    “I called him last night to tell him the blood tests prove Keith Young was driving drunk. I told him he should’ve been here.”
    Well, in all fairness, we’ve been waiting for the results for a long time, and Dad couldn’t just hang around. On the other hand, Mom shouldn’t feel as if she’s holding down the fort single-handedly.
    “Anyway, the District Attorney asked us not to make any public statements about what a lowlife that Keith Young is. But Sidney did write a special Facebook post to say the rumor you were talking on the phone when the accident happened isn’t true.” She sighed. “I hope you know your sister is really looking out for you.”
    I do. And I hope Sidney’s telling the truth, I really do. Maybe Roberta got it wrong—maybe our call simply dropped because I’d driven through a dead zone.
    The door opened.
    “You wanted to see me, Mrs. Kemp?”
    It’s Dr. Tyson.
    “Yes,” my mother said, and from the creak of the chair, I knew she had pushed to her feet. “Someone has been sneaking more photos of Marigold to the press, and I want it stopped.”
    They have?
    “I apologize,” Dr. Tyson said. “Everyone on staff knows they will be terminated if they compromise the confidentiality of a patient. And the staff seems very fond of Marigold—I don’t believe the leak is anyone who works here.”
    “Then who could it be?”
    “It could be one of your daughter’s visitors, or a visitor of one of the other patients. We try to monitor traffic in and out of the ward, but short of a full-time security guard, we can’t watch the door twenty-four seven. Do you know when it happened?”
    “The photos showed up on TMZ yesterday.”
    “And you’re sure your other daughter wasn’t involved?”
    Ooh, a direct hit.
    “Yes, I’m sure,” my mother bit out. “Sidney would never let such an unflattering photo of her sister be released. She’s very protective of Marigold.”
    “I’m sorry for the added stress this must be putting on your family.”
    “If it happens again,” my mother said, “I’ll get the police involved.”
    “I understand. I’ll remind the staff to keep a close eye on who comes in and out.”
    But I can think of someone who isn’t on staff and technically,