Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ELLIE
“Hey, sweetie.”
“Hey, Dad. How are ya?”
It’s Sunday morning, which means at eleven on the dot I can expect a call from Michael Ford. Ever since I moved, hearing his voice puts a lump in my throat. Leaving him was one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make and I still sometimes wonder if it was the right one.
Most of the time though, I think we’re both better off.
Even after multiple years, being around each other served as a harsh reminder of what we’d both lost. I know I’m the spitting image of my mom, and my dad is basically a different person with her gone.
I imagine looking at me cuts pretty deep—maybe the same way seeing him look so lost all the time puts a pit in my stomach.
I don’t know if I believe in soul mates, but I believe in love and partnership because of my parents.
They just…went together. Two halves of a whole.
Watching that get ripped apart was just another layer of grief.
“I’m doing pretty good. I’ve been asked to go speak at a university lecture this week, so that’s been giving me something to look forward to. And be nervous about,” he says through a laugh.
My dad is not one for public speaking, but he is one for helping others. I swallow the lump in my throat that’s still lingering and work to lighten the mood in my own head. “I’m sure you’ll do great. And if you don’t, I doubt they’ll be paying attention anyway,” I tease, mimicking snoring noise.
“Very funny, Ellie,” he chastises.
I chuckle at that. “I’m kiddingggg. I’m sure all the baby civil engineers will be riveted by you.” I keep my laugh to myself this time.
“Well let’s hope so,” he says, missing my continued teasing.
“Have you gone to see the new Star Wars yet?” I ask him.
“Oh, not yet. I think I’ll wait until I can stream it.”
“What? Why? It’s the first one in like five years, don’t you want to go see it? You’ve seen them all in theaters, I thought,” I ramble, confused. My dad loves Star Wars. Like loves with a capital L.
“Well, you know, I just don’t feel like going by myself to the theater. It’s not a big deal. At home I can eat while I’m watching and put subtitles on too, so it’s really a win-win.”
“But you could see it in IMAX, Dad! I bet Uncle Terry would go with you too. He loves those movies,” I tell him.
“Terry seems like the type to talk during movies,” he grumbles. “But anyway, I just used to go with your mom and I don’t think I’m ready to go without her. It’s really okay, sweetie. I’m excited to watch it at home in a couple months. Maybe we can even watch it together on one of your visits.”
It takes me a moment to process what he just said. My dad doesn’t want to go to the movies without my mom. My mom who has been gone for just over five years.
They used to go to the movies at least once a month, if not more. It was their standard date night—dinner at the local dine-in theater. I always just assumed he was still going occasionally over the past few years.
I try to swallow that stubborn lump, but it’s getting bigger and I’m starting to worry I won’t be able to talk through it.
My dad doesn’t go to the movies anymore.
I clear my throat in an attempt to get words through. “Yeah, that sounds nice, Dad. Hey, I actually have to run, but I want to hear about your talk this week, okay? Let me know how it goes,” I rasp.
“Okay, sweetie, sounds good. Have a good day at work. Love you,” he finishes.
“Love you too.” I hang up the phone with a shaky finger and take a few breaths.
No one tells you that when one of your parents dies, you can lose the other one too.
I love my dad to pieces, but he’s just…a shell of who he once was. It was so brutal to witness it in person that moving felt vital to me just surviving. But sometimes we have calls like this and I want to crawl home and hug him tight and take him to the goddamn movies.
Moving here is the most selfish, necessary thing I’ve ever done. I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive myself.
A nice thing about my job is it’s literally dangerous to let your mind drift.
Staying focused is vital to keeping people safe and healthy and it means I can’t dwell on the conversation with my dad from this morning.
It also means I can’t fantasize about seeing Matt tonight, if he decides to use his key after the game.
I haven’t seen him since he slept over last week and my bed has started to feel very… not full of Matt.
I don’t like it.
“Hon?”
I glance up from the chart I’m working on to see Maggie leaning over the counter looking at me.
She’s the charge nurse and one of my favorites here at General—her gentle demeanor a painful but still welcome reminder of my mom.
She’s got graying blonde hair cut into a cute bob and laugh lines that speak of a good, long life. I give her a smile. “Hey, what’s up?”
She doesn’t smile back, instead giving me her work face. I set my pen down.
“Just got word we’ve got a VIP en route from the arena,” she says.
“The hockey arena?”
Maggie nods. Something cold creeps down my spine, my back reflexively straightening. “A VIP?” I ask. I haven’t heard that term used here before. “Like one of the players?”
“Yeah. They said EMS is about three minutes out.”
There’s a ringing in my ears growing louder as I try to stem my impending panic. I look down at my hands and squeeze them into fists to stop the tremors.
It’s probably not even him. There are two teams there tonight, plenty of players. How many are on a team? Shit, I don’t know anything about this stupid sport. He’s only one guy though so the odds are pretty good, right? But I know he gets a lot of ice time…
Okay, I need to breathe. “Wait, don’t they usually fix them up at the arena?” My voice cracks and I look up at Maggie. “I thought they have people for that,” I say quickly, desperation slipping into my tone.
Maggie’s brow pulls low and I catch her eyes studying my face with interest. “You know someone on the team, honey?” she asks quietly, leaning in toward me.
I debate for a half a second before thinking screw it and giving a jerky nod. Maggie isn’t a gossip, and if this means she’ll share more with me, I’ll risk it.
Her face softens. She reaches over and puts a hand on one of mine.
“I’m sure it’s not him, Ellie, whoever he is.
They have a lot of players there at the games.
I’m sorry I don’t have any other information.
” She seems to hesitate a moment before speaking again.
“Are you gonna be okay working on this one with me? I can ask Darnell to switch over his patient to you if you’d prefer,” she offers kindly.
I give myself a mental shake and put my big—professional—girl panties on. “Of course, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you at the doors in just a minute,” I let her know, doing my best to bury the panic in my voice.
She watches me for a moment before giving a quick nod and heading toward the ambulance entrance.
Okay. Okay. It’s probably not Matt.
But what if it is?
The sheer panic I can’t seem to shake makes the tremors in my hands intensify as I stand and grab some gloves. It takes two tries to pull them on and that’s when I realize I need to calm the fuck down in order to do my job.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, thinking of my triage routine rather than the what-ifs.
Then I start running through the reasons a hockey player would need to be carted in via an ambulance to an emergency room.
The best emergency room in the city. I remind myself it’s also the closest and therefore most convenient. Right.
Okay, we’ve got loss of consciousness, wound that isn’t clotting, broken bone that needs to be reset ASAP, detrimental blood loss—
I’m jarred from my mental list as I hear the ambulance out front.
I take a deep breath and hurry to reach the doors.
Outside I’m met with the chaos of EMTs and staff from the hospital surrounding a gurney.
I’m struggling to get a glimpse of the large body, but I do see black and gray. Those are Matt’s team colors.
My heart might beat out of my chest.
The EMT voices sound far away, only bits of what they are relaying to the doctor coming through.
“Likely severe concussion…unconscious…unable to skate off the ice…”
I finally maneuver close enough to see the patient and promptly bend over and vomit on the ground.