Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
I an
As we closely follow the man leading us to Gigi, we can’t escape the bitter, acrid air. Savannah and I turn the corner of the house, and the fireman points to an ambulance. “Just want you to know we got everyone out. See, right there? Pink PJ’s. At the EMT vehicle?”
Through the smokey haze, we turn. A flash of candy pink color snatches our eyes. There, in the dark, chaotic scene, we see Gigi. We rush toward her. Her pout cuts me, and her cry is a faint whimper that rings louder in my ears as we get closer.
“Gigi?” Savannah calls out and Gigi’s chin pops up. Previously huddled on a stretcher just inside the yellow and red door, now her head darts side to side. My heart races as we get a better look at her. She’s pulled herself into a ball with her arms tightly bound around knees pulled close to her chest, but it’s the shaky, puckered bottom lip that destroys my heart.
“Gigi! Gigi!” Savannah runs toward her.
“MOMMA!”
As soon as Gigi spots her mother, she scrambles away from the technician and off the stretcher. Like an expert escape artist, she flies.
“Hey!”
The technician calls but Gigi doesn’t stop. The next instant finds her catapulting into Savannah as she snatches the little girl into her arms.
Their reunion unchains deeply buried emotions that hit me like a wrecking ball. Gigi sobs, her face buried in Savi’s neck, and I choke back a sob as she gives her baby a million kisses. Cheeks, eyes, chin; she leaves nothing untouched. I wait a moment, then take a place beside Savannah and Gigi reaches out for me, arms outstretched and fingers grabbing at the air. I take her hand and swallow a lump of emotion as she squeezes my hand over and over but doesn’t let go. I close my arms around them both and note Savannah’s trembling body. I tighten my hold, lending my support as adrenaline takes its toll.
* * *
Savannah is standing a few feet away from a sleeping Gigi when I enter the room. What I see in her is the definition of self-soothing. With her arms wrapped around her waist, it’s as if she’s giving herself a hug. She hears me, and her head turns.
“I just spoke with the doctor. They’re going to keep Cora overnight. Her blood oxygen isn’t at a level they’re comfortable with, so, she’s staying.”
“That’s probably for the best,” she nods.
Savi takes a seat as I peer over at Gigi, who’s sound asleep in a hospital crib. “How is she?”
“Sleeping. Finally. She’s exhausted. Her pediatrician was here for another patient and the ER staff notified her. I’m glad she came to check Gigi. She thinks twenty-four hours of observation is needed as well.” She pauses. “Did you talk to Cora?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Does she know how the fire started?” There’s a plea in her eyes.
“She’s very upset.” I take a seat across from her.“She said the fire chief questioned her. Cora has a little space heater in the kitchen. She told me she uses it in the morning because she gets up early and sometimes there’s still a chilly bite in the air.”
“I know she does. I’ve seen it.”
“Then you know it wasn’t that old, the cord wasn’t frayed … she said she always pulls the plug before she goes to bed, and she didn’t use it today, so she’s sure it wasn’t plugged in. Well, apparently, from what they can tell, the cord was split. That’s what caused the fire, but she doesn’t know how.”
A pained expression tightens her face, and she groans.
“Cora said she ran into the kitchen the minute she smelled something. The smell was pungent and burned her nose. She was about to get Gigi and run out, then call the Fire Department, but Gigi ran past her to get a baby doll she left on the chair. By then, the smoke was thicker. Cora grabbed her and the doll but slapped a dishtowel over Gigi’s nose and mouth. The neighbor behind her was taking out his trash and saw the blaze. He called the Fire Department, then ran to Gigi and Cora. He walked them across the street to another neighbor’s porch. The fire trucks were ahead of us, but not by much. That’s why we couldn’t find them right away. Too much chaos.”
Savi tosses a look to the ceiling. Her body stiffens as she shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have gone out tonight.”
“Don’t do that, Savi. You can’t play that game with yourself.”
Still gazing off into the distance, sadness and guilt corrupt her face. “I shouldn’t have. I rarely leave her except for work.”
“Then, you deserve a little time to yourself, don’t you think? It was an accident. That heater and Gigi are at Cora’s almost every day. It could have happened anytime.”
Her gaze lowers to me. “Well, that’s fodder for my anxiety.” Sarcasm kicks the comment as surely as the thought kicked her ass.
“Sorry. It’s the truth,” I say as a matter of fact.
Her gaze darkens and intensifies. “I could have lost her, Ian. I could have lost them both.”