Chapter 21
Alex
Making the phone call to Sybil and Scott about their daughter’s accident is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Topped only by seeing Tuesday mowed down by that car. Running to her lifeless body, I wept when I found a pulse.
Henry allowed me to jump in the unit with Max. I don’t have the medical skills the paramedics possess, but there was no way I was letting her out of my sight. I should’ve offered to drive the ambulance, but my captain and Henry could both tell I was frantic and in no position to be driving.
We delivered her unconscious form to the medical college. It’s the closest level one trauma center in the area. She was immediately whisked into the trauma bay, clothes stripped from her, and tubes placed in ungodly places. I stayed as long as I could until it was evident this wasn’t a typical patient drop-off, and a nurse escorted me to the waiting room. It was there I made that fateful call to her parents before I allowed myself to fall apart.
I can’t remember the last time I cried. Even when I attended my grandparent’s funerals. But for all the waffling I did before I pulled my head out of my ass, it’s evident now that this girl is my entire universe.
“She’s got to be all right. She just has to,” I mutter to myself as I pace the overcrowded room. I’m sure I look like I’m the patient and am having some type of psychotic break.
“Alex, are you staying?” Max asks, breaking me from my hysteria.
“Yes. I’m waiting for her parents to get here.”
“Okay. Please tell them we’re praying for her. And could you let us know how she’s doing?”
“Of course.”
Max pats me on the arm before heading to the ambulance to mark themselves available to take the next call. Life moving on. As if the world hadn’t just ceased to exist as I knew it.
The Palmers make record time, joining me in the waiting room before heading to the triage nurse to introduce themselves and ask to speak with the emergency room attending currently providing care for Tuesday. At least they can get some intel. I likely wouldn’t have gotten far stating I was her boyfriend, much less a secret boyfriend.
Fuck that. I don’t care who knows anymore.
* * *
It seems like I’ve been sitting out here forever. The Palmers have to come out soon and let me know something. My mind is jumping to the worst-case scenario.
As if they’ve heard my plea, I feel a hand on my shoulder and bolt out of my chair.
“It’s okay, Alex.” Tuesday’s father attempts to comfort me. “They’ve irradiated her from stem to stern. There’s no head injury that they can discern at this point. The car crushed her pelvis. They believe she lost a lot of blood. The combination of that and the trauma threw her into shock.”
Falling into my seat, I run my hands through my hair. If only I’d seen that car coming sooner. If I could have run to her. “How is she? Any change?”
“No. Not yet,” her mother answers, sniffling. “They took her straight to the OR. She’s going to have a long road ahead of her.”
My waterlogged gaze connects with her red-rimmed one, and I get the definite feeling she knows. This isn’t concern for my best friend’s little sister. But I don’t have it in me to have that conversation right now. And if she’s trying to warn me what’s ahead, she’s wasting her breath. My whole life is in that operating room right now. I can’t even think of a world without Sunny in it.
* * *
Hours later, Tuesday’s parents are called back to the recovery room to talk to the surgeon. While my mother and sisters are the praying members of our family, I take the opportunity every chance I get to plead with the man upstairs. It’s in the middle of a bargaining prayer where I promise to go to church on Sundays if he’ll only give Tuesday a chance, that her parents come out and advise she’s been moved to the shock trauma intensive care unit or STICU for short.
“How did she look? Did everything go okay?”
Her mother looks to her father, who pulls Sybil into his side. “The surgeon said she did well. Better than expected, given the mechanism of her injury.”
“But I never imagined seeing my daughter this way. She looks so frail,” Sybil cries.
“You should go on home, Alex. You’ve had a long day.”
“No,” I blurt. “I… I can’t.”
Sybil pulls me in for a tight hug, and it’s then, I’m sure. She knows. For the briefest of moments, I wonder how long they’ve known but dismiss it almost as soon as the thought presents itself.
“They have a family waiting area there. I’m not sure when you’ll be able to see her, but at least you’ll be close if that time comes.”
“Thank you,” I squeak out.
The three of us make our way to the STICU waiting area. We aren’t there long before Scott excuses himself to check in at the nurses’ station to provide his contact information and share we’ll be in the waiting area. He returns to let Sybil know they’ve transferred Tuesday from recovery into her room, and I’m once again left to sit and wait.
Why couldn’t it have been me?
* * *
I look at my watch. It’s almost midnight. The Palmers went home saying they wanted to get a good night’s rest to prepare for the day ahead and encouraged me to do the same. But I just can’t leave her here.
I’ve turned this little waiting area into a makeshift motel, stripping off my boots and turnout gear. While I have no other shoes, at least I have my uniform pants and matching navy blue T-shirt with Hanover Fire’s emblem imprinted on it.
Leaning my elbows on my knees, my head cradled in my hands, I try to shake the memory of my sweet Sunny smiling at me as that car skidded right into her. As much as it haunts me, I can only imagine what she’ll have to contend with. Hopefully, she didn’t have a chance to see it coming for her.
“Young man.”
“Oh!” I jump from the seat.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t realize anyone was still here until I came over to turn the lights off.”
I stare blankly at her. I’m not sure how to respond without one more person trying to send me home. Hell, I can’t even sleep in my car. I’d have to Uber home, and I’m. Not. Leaving. Her. Here.
“Who are you here for?”
“Tuesday.” My voice cracks. “Tuesday Palmer.”
The kind older nurse reaches for my hand, and I panic. Has something happened?
“Would you like to sit with her?”
“Wha? Really? I can see her?” My eyes well with tears.
“Oh, come with me.” She pats my hand and tucks it into her elbow.
“Wait. I don’t have any shoes.”
The nurse gives me a peculiar look until I point to all of the gear I’ve just removed. “Ah. I’ll get you some footies. It’ll be all right.”
She directs me to a large circular room with nurses and technicians sitting in the center, telemetry monitors beeping incessantly overhead. Across from them, the patient rooms line the perimeter. Each room with glass doors allowing easy observation of the patient resting inside.
And then I see her. The room is dim, with only a mild light shining from the monitors overhead. It creates almost a halo effect, making Tuesday look like an angel. The nurse reaches forward to slide the doors open, and a tear falls free.
“Thank you.” I sniffle. “I didn’t think I’d get to see her, but I couldn’t─”
“There, there. What’s your name?”
“I’m Alex. Alex Bell.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Alex Bell. I’m Gwendolyn. Things don’t always go by the letter of the law on night shift.” She winks. “I’ll be right out there if you need anything.”
I nod, trying to keep my emotions in check and move forward to sit down beside Tuesday’s bed. She looks so weak and frail. But I instantly hear her optimistic voice in my head. Looks can be deceiving. Because my girl is a fighter. Anyone else might’ve given up on that highway. But she’s still here.
Gingerly, I lift her soft hand, careful not to disrupt any of the intravenous lines or telemetry monitor wires attached to her. I just need to touch her. To somehow let her know I’m here.
“Sunny. I’m right here. I promise I won’t leave. I’m sorry─” I have to halt my words to choke down a sob before continuing. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. God. I was so happy to see you. I didn’t notice anything but your bright smile.” Swiping my arm across my face, I try to wipe away the tears before they get her all wet. “I’m not sure if they’ll let me see you tomorrow. Nurse Gwendolyn snuck me in. But I’ll be in the waiting room. Don’t think because I’m not beside you, I’m not here.”
As much as I want her to know I’m with her, it hits me that if she can hear, I could upset her. She’s been through enough. Leaning my head down by her side, I hold her hand in mine and close my eyes.
“I love you. I can’t wait ’til you wake up, and I can tell you.”