Chapter 4: French Kisses in White Rooms
It was a small room. White walls. A hospital bed centered under a Monet print, one of his lily paintings as Philip would describe it. Jonathan lay asleep under a heavy, white blanket. A pink plastic water pitcher and glass at his bedside. The electronic beeping from something connected to an IV made the only sound.
Philip had acted quickly. He phoned 911, and an ambulance arrived in minutes and took them both to the hospital. With nothing to do for hours but sit in a waiting room for any word from the ER doctor, Philip let his imagination run wild. How could this be happening to his friend, Jonathan? And to him? He tried to be selfless, focus entirely on Jonathan’s health and making him well, but, somewhere deep in his subconscious, he was already
