And then she did something I didn’t expect. She took off the plastic wristband she was wearing, one of those cheap ones from a church fundraiser that said GOD IS GOOD ALL THE TIME in white letters, and she slid it onto my wrist right next to the ambulance band.
“For luck,” she said. “I don’t think you need it. But for luck.”
That’s the second bracelet you see in the picture. The one with the bracelets on my wrist, where I’m kissing his forehead. Beau took it at the hospital in Gadsden around four in the morning, after they’d cleaned us both up and wrapped our boy in one of those striped hospital blankets. Everybody always assumes both bands are from the hospital. Only one is.
Beau called his mama from the hospital hallway. He told me later that he didn’t know how to start, so he just said, “Mama. I found her. I found your waitress.”
