36. This Is Not a Shonda Rhimes Drama
36
THIS IS NOT A SHONDA RHIMES DRAMA
OLIVER
Mallory has been in the emergency room for three hours and I haven't seen her yet. My knees bob up and down with anticipation. I feel every inch of me hum, itching to burst through the doors and demand to see her.
She had an allergic reaction.
The cheesecake was supposed to be lemon blueberry. That’s what the bakery said. That’s what it says on the allergens list.
Nowhere did it say kiwi. But she’s not allergic to anything else. I place a hand on my mom’s knee, and she instinctively covers it with her own.
Mom was the one who bought the dessert. She didn’t do it on purpose, of course she didn’t. But she’s still treating herself like the villain in this. This whole thing was just an accident.
My knees bob up and down when I see a doctor approach us. He’s old, maybe fifties, sporting a very bright bowtie.
“Miss Grace is doing fine. It looks like she had a mild allergic reaction. But she’s– ”
“ Mild ?” I say probably a little too loud for a hospital. “That was mild? Mallory hit her head because she was so dizzy she couldn’t breathe. Her throat was so swollen she couldn’t breathe, and that’s supposed to be mild?”
The doctor shoots me a sympathetic glance. “Kiwi can be a deadly allergy if enough is ingested, but luckily she only consumed a small amount. Her throat started healing after the epinephrine auto–injector was administered. She passed out due to the minor concussion she sustained after the fall.”
“You had no right to keep this from me.”
“I know that Ollie, and I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad and angry, but you have no right to raise your voice at me.”
“Mallory, come back we need to talk about this!”
“Mallory, are you okay?”
“Mallory!”
She tried to walk up the stairs, to her bag I assume, when she started swaying. She fell on the third step and hit her head on the bannister. I ran up to catch her, and used the epi pen I keep in my pocket just as her brother and dad ran into the room.
The ambulance was called when we were arguing. Henry tasted traces of kiwi in the cheesecake, but wasn’t sure since she had two bites and seemed to be fine. They came to check on her when the ambulance arrived, that’s when she passed out.
She had an allergic reaction.
If I didn’t have the Epi pen in my pocket, would her condition be worse?
“Can we go in and see her?”
The doctor nods, waiting for us to stand as he leads us into Mallory’s room. Mallory is sitting up on the bed, a blanket covering the bottom half of her body, with her dad and Henry sitting on the left side.
“I didn’t look – Dad, tell him I didn't look like that!”
“You did, Mal! Sorry to say it but your face was all puffed up. Puffier than a puffer fish. A demented potato’s second cousin.”
“Henry, don't be so mean to your sister,” Coach says, slapping Henry on the side of the head. “She almost died for god's sake!”
She almost died.
“Get out of your head, both of you! I did not almost die.”
“But you did look like a puffer fish.” Henry says.
Mallory groans, covering her face with her hands and sliding down the bed slightly.
“If it helps,'' I say, moving closer to her. Her face immediately perks up when she sees me. “You were a cute puffer fish.'' I smooth some hair out of her face, leaning down to kiss her cheek. I feel her lips curl up into a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she says, beaming at me. “Sorry, I ruined dinner.”
“No dinner goes smoothly in that house. Something was bound to happen.”
Dad comes up behind me, placing a hand on Mallory's leg, smiling at her. Mom, however, stays at the doorway, with her feet glued to the door, white–knuckling the strap of her bag. Mallory looks over at her and reaches out her hand. Mom hesitates, but makes her way to Mallory, wrapping her up in a hug. A mom hug. The type of hug where you just feel safe. She’s always hugged us like that. She’s always hugged Mallory like that too.
“Mia cara ragazza,” she says to her, smoothing a hand over Mallory’s hair. “Mi dispiace tanto,” she moves her hand to Mallory's, squeezing it tight. “I don’t know how it happened. ”
My dear girl, I'm so sorry.
“It was an accident, yeah? We all know it was. It must have just been a mistake on the bakery’s part, not yours. Okay? Nobody blames you, Mrs Ashby. Dad, tell her.”
“Elena, it was an accident. These things unfortunately happen. She’s okay. No harm, no foul.” Coach says, in his comforting dad voice.
“Well, little harm.” Henry adds, slouching on the chair with his arms folded.
Mallory takes the backwards cap from his head and slaps his arm with it, offering him a semi–murderous look.“ No harm. ” She corrects.
All the adults migrated to the other side of the room, leaving me with Mallory.
I move the chair as close to the bed as I can get, wrapping my hands with hers, bringing it to my mouth. My eyes are closed, and I'm just focusing on the feel of Mallory’s hand, when I feel something swipe at my under eye. I open my eyes to find Mallory’s thumb, swiping at my skin.
I didn’t even know I was crying.
“Baby, it’s okay,” she says, bringing my head to hers. “Don’t cry. It’s like watching an angel cry.” she sniffles, placing a quick kiss on my lips.
“You’re the angel. My angel. God Mallie, I'm so sorry.”
“I’m okay, we’re okay.” She whispers.
“We’ll figure it out,” I nod. “California. We’ll figure it out. We’ll – we’ll call every day, and text every second. I’ll come to you and you’ll come here, it’ll – we can work this out.”
She just nods. Leaning in to plant a longer kiss on my lips. “Ti amo,” she says .
“Ti amo.”
I love you.
“Well isn’t this quite the party.” We all turned our heads to address the female doctor standing in the doorway. She’s wearing short black heels with a matching skirt and a lilac purple top. Her light brown hair sits just off her shoulders. It’s kind of funny, from a distance, she kind of looks like –
“Harper.” Mr Grace addresses her, but it's not with the comforting voice from before. This one is different. Reserved. Cold.
“Benji.” She retorts, in the same voice.
Silence fills the room as nobody dares to speak. Until Henry stands, pointing at Mallory. “Mallory.”
She does the same thing to him. “Henry.”
“Sorry I'm late, I was in a surgery.” She walks to the left side of Mallory’s bed, the click of her heels echoing around the room. “The one thing we tell you not to eat, you eat.” she says, looking at Mallory, but Mallie doesn’t return her gaze.
“What can I say, I'm a daredevil.” I can tell this was supposed to be her attempt at a joke, but it came out robotic and stiff, like she didn’t want to respond, but she’s forced to.
I clear my throat, holding my hand out to hers. “Nice to meet you ma'am.”
Ma’am? That’s what you’re supposed to say when meeting a mother for the first time, right?
“Mom, this is Oliver Ashby, my boyfriend. Ollie, this is Dr. Harper Meyer, she’s the head of Paediatric medicine. In this hospital, apparently.” She shakes my hand, clutching so hard. I don’t know if I'm more shocked that she didn’t break a bone, or that I didn't show the pain in my face. “This is Elena and Luca Ashby, his parents. We were at dinner when I had my reaction." She gestures to my parents in the corner. They politely wave and smile, doing the typical greeting .
“I read your chart. Everything seems to be fine. You will most likely be discharged soon.” She flips through the papers on her clipboard. “This is your first time being admitted for an allergic reaction in thirteen years? The first attack was the last one?”
Mallory tenses at her question, nodding after a moment. She looks at me, and probably guesses my confusion. “When I was seven I drank a kiwi smoothie. It didn’t go over well.”
Her mom whips to Mr Grace. “You mean your father let you drink a kiwi smoothie.”
“Of course you’d blame me. You weren’t even in the same state as us at that point but of course, it’s all on me. We didn’t know at that point. We didn’t know she was allergic to kiwi. It was an accident. An epi pen was administered almost immediately, Harper.” Mr Grace pulls the yellow syringe from his back pocket. “Now we know, I always have one on me.”
“So do I.” Henry reaches into his front pocket and pulls out the familiar yellow syringe. “Her roommate Abi keeps one on her. So does her boyfriend. If Oliver didn’t have an Epi–pen in his pocket when she collapsed, he would’ve gotten the one in her bag. Or the one from us.” Henry stands to his full height, the same as his dad. “We are always prepared for it to happen. Even if it doesn’t, and hasn’t happened since that day all those years ago. So don’t waltz in here after fifteen years, acting like you know better, just because you’re a doctor. We know better. Us .”
Henry’s words echo through the room.
“Okay, let’s all calm down.” Dad walks forward, still clutching my mom's hand. “Why don’t we all clear out, give Mallory some space. We’re not helping that concussion of hers. ”
I go to stand, but Mallory's grip on me tightens. “That doesn’t apply to you.” She whispers to me.
“We’ll be outside, okay?” She nods at her dad as they all leave the room. Mallory scoots up on her bed, moving to the right hand side, patting the empty space. I sit up from my chair and move onto the bed, pulling Mallory towards me. Her head rests on my peck as her leg tangles with mine. I run soothing strokes up and down her arm as her lashes flutter close.
She’s okay.
Mallory’s okay.
We’ll be okay.