Chapter 24 Harrison
HARRISON
Susan looked just as frantic as I felt. We each had our cell phone pressed to one ear and the office phone against the other, trying to get more information about what had just happened to Gwen.
My heart had started racing as soon as I’d heard her scream followed by the abrupt end of the call, and it wasn’t likely to slow down any time soon.
I was terrified and unwilling to consider the worst-case scenario.
“She’s not at Huntington or Keck,” Susan said. “Who have you called so far?”
“I’m on hold with Cedars,” I said through gritted teeth. It was taking every bit of my strength to remain civil, and Susan knew it.
She walked as close as the phone cord would allow and stared at me. “It’s going to be okay.”
I nodded and didn’t say anything, because I didn’t believe her.
It all felt too familiar. The hollowed-out sensation of dread as every shred of hope and optimism withered away. What if I was already too late? What if she was…
No. There was no way I’d lost her.
“Who are you holding for?”
The voice on the other end of the call woke me back up.
It was the third time asking if she was there.
“I’m trying to find out if someone has been admitted with you.
She was in a car accident. I think it was an accident, I’m not sure.
We were on the phone, and it definitely sounded like an accident. Her name is Gwen—”
“One moment, please,” the clipped voice said, and it was back to the terrible hold music.
“How hard is it to look up a goddamn name?” I roared to no one.
Susan had seen me lose my temper plenty of times, but she’d never looked at me like this before. I didn’t want to imagine what kind of expression was on my face, but it was enough that she knew better than to try to talk me down in this scenario.
Another call buzzed through on my cell from a number I didn’t recognize. I was about to pick it up when the hospital operator’s voice came through again.
“Cedars-Sinai, how can I help you?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shouted. “I’ve been on hold for ten minutes, and you keep coming on and asking me the same—”
“Hold please.”
It took everything in my power not to chuck my phone against the wall. I was breathing so hard it felt like I’d just finished a sprint.
The unknown number left a voicemail, so I checked it while still on hold with the hospital.
“Harrison, it’s me. I’m okay.”
Gwen. Her voice instantly doused the five-alarm fire raging inside of me. I could finally breathe again.
“I got T-boned at an intersection,” she continued.
“My car took the brunt of it, but I got a little banged up. The windshield shattered. I have some cuts. I’m sore all over, so they took me to Cedars to make sure I didn’t have any internal injuries.
All the tests came back clear, and they’re ready to release me.
Sorry to call you from a random number, but my phone is still in my car. ”
I still couldn’t calm my racing heart, even after hearing her say that everything is okay. I had to force myself to stay focused on her message.
“Anyway, they said I can go home in a bit. My sister is still away, so it would be great if you could come pick me up. If not, I guess I’ll call an Uber. Just call me back and let me know either way. Thanks.”
I flinched. How could she possibly think I wouldn’t be there to pick her up?
“Gwen’s okay,” I said to Susan. “She’s at Cedars. I’m going to pick her up now.”
Susan slammed down the office phone and visibly slumped. “Oh, thank God. Do you need my help with anything?”
“No, but if I do, I’ll let you know. I’m obviously going to be out for the remainder of the day.”
I stormed past Susan trying to make sense of how I was feeling.
Relief that Gwen was okay.
Fury at whomever hit her.
And another sensation I couldn’t quite place.
Anger at myself?
It started to crystallize on the drive to the hospital, maybe because the route was familiar in the worst possible way.
I couldn’t stop the flood of memories. Of pain.
Cedars-Sinai was the last place I saw my mother alive.
Dad had taken her around the world on a desperate search for a successful treatment, from Switzerland to Singapore.
The search had ended back at Cedars, with an experimental treatment we all knew was risky.
Nothing was slowing the cancer’s progression, so the ex vivo procedure combined with a firestorm infusion of chemo had been her last hope.
I cleared my throat at the image of her in bed, surrounded by her boys. How fucking naive and hopeful we’d been, joking about how she’d be drinking margaritas with us in no time.
We could all see that she was a shadow of the vibrant woman we loved. The lighthearted chatter was our attempt to ignore what was right in front of us.
Still, we were filled with hope until hours later when her doctor summoned us to a private room down the hall.
They’d lost her on the operating table.
I gripped the steering wheel harder and blinked back my tears. Obsessing about what had happened wouldn’t change a thing. Reliving the most painful days of my life was pointless. The only way through was to focus on what I could do and blot out any associated emotionality.
Losing myself in messy emotions wouldn’t serve me, so I pushed them deep down and mapped out how the next few hours would unfold.
I’d arrive at the hospital and force myself not to throttle the people answering phones.
I’d discuss any treatment next steps with the nurses and doctor.
I’d take Gwen back to her place and make sure she had everything she needed.
And everything would go back to normal.
My palms went sweaty as I walked into the hospital and got a hit of that distinctive, stomach-turning hospital smell. It had to be the floor cleaner, because the cloying smell was everywhere around me.
I strode up to the help desk. “Gwen Ackland.”
If I said anything else, I risked losing my shit on someone who probably didn’t deserve it.
The woman tapped on her laptop. “Yes, she’s in room three thirteen.”
I walked past the chair my father had collapsed into when we had to leave the hospital without my mother. He’d buried his face in his hands and wept while my brothers and I circled him protectively.
A woman joined me on the elevator, her pale face beneath a knit cap a reminder of how many people were still at war against their illnesses.
A war my family had lost.
The anger stoked up inside me again, and it felt so much better than sadness.
Anger, I could work with. It sharpened my blade and made me keenly aware of everything around me. It kicked me into overdrive and allowed me to take control, which was exactly what I had to do in this situation.
Gwen needed to get home, and I was going to see to it.
I strode into the room and nearly ran into the petite nurse with a tablet. I barely gave her a glance and instead focused on Gwen.
Red scratches on her cheeks and what looked like the beginning of a shiner. Hair messy, gown half off her shoulder. A beeping machine next to her bed.
It took all my strength to keep from sweeping her into my arms.
“There he is,” Gwen sat up. “Hi.”
She almost looked nervous.
“Hello.” The nurse scanned me up and down. “And you are?”
“Harrison Ashford, I’m here to take Gwen home.”
“Ah, okay,” she said with a nod. “I’m Samantha, her nurse, and we were just going over discharge instructions, so it’s good you’re here too. Let’s talk about wound care.”
I was laser focused as she went over how to clean and treat the cuts on Gwen’s face and how frequently she could take the prescription ibuprofen for any pain.
I was good at this sort of stuff. What time, how much, how often, what’s next. That I could do. Facts. Concrete steps. Measurable outcomes.
“Okay, so we can leave now?” I asked as Samantha finished.
“Not quite yet. The doctor wants to come and review the last scan with Gwen.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice sharper than I’d intended. “Is something wrong?”
I held my breath in the two seconds it took her to stop shuffling on her pad and look at me.
“Not at all,” she replied, forcing a smile at me like she’d probably been trained to do. “It’s standard procedure. Once he signs off, we can set Miss Ackland free.”
“How long do we have to wait? She’s already been here for a while, and if nothing’s wrong then why can’t we just go now?”
I was starting to feel claustrophobic. The curtain was drawn, so I couldn’t see out the window, and I was in desperate need of fresh air.
“Harrison, it’s fine,” Gwen said softly. “I don’t mind waiting. They’re busy.”
“Aw,” Samantha grinned at Gwen. “Model patient right there. Thank you. Now, do you need anything else? Water? A snack?”
Gwen shook her head. “I’m fine. Thank you for everything; you’ve been wonderful.”
“Yes, thank you,” I added, although even I could hear that it didn’t sound convincing.
Samantha gave me one of those fake scrunch-nose smiles as she moved past me. I paced the small room, strategizing on what needed to happen next.
“You’re probably hungry,” I said. “We can stop for takeout on the way back. In fact, why don’t you figure out what you want now, and I can time it so that it’s ready when we leave, so we don’t have to wait. You have quite a few options in this area.”
I was way too familiar with the culinary choices around the hospital.
“What are you in the mood for?” I continued. “Something easy like soup? A smoothie maybe? Or we could do a real meal—it’s late enough that we could call it dinner. Anything you want, just say the word.”
“Harrison, what I want is for you to get over here and give me a hug,” Gwen said in a soft voice.
Her lower lip trembled as she reached out her arms.
Fuck. How could I have forgotten? I strode over and realized at the last second that she was fragile. As much as I wanted to crush her against me, she was probably in pain. Not to mention, there were the wires attached to her arm.
We wound up in an awkward, tentative hug, which to me felt worse than nothing at all. Everything was a reminder of the last time, from the robotic pinging noise to the crumple of the hospital gown against my cheek.
I pulled back. “Okay, then. So what are you thinking for food?”
“I’m not,” she laughed. “I have zero appetite.”
“You have to eat,” I insisted. “Pick something, or I will.”
“Hey, bossman, step down please,” Gwen said, a warning tone in her voice.
I ignored her and changed gears. “Do we need to get anything else on the way? How about a heating pad?”
“You can be my heating pad,” she joked.
“Gwen, come on. This is serious.”
She frowned at me for a beat.
“I’m fine now. You heard what Samantha said. I almost feel silly being here, taking up a bed someone else probably needs more.”
“Which is exactly why it’s time to leave,” I said, pacing to the door to scan the hallway for anyone who looked vaguely doctor-shaped. “What’s taking so long?”
“Harrison.”
I turned to Gwen.
“Please take a breath. This is a hospital, one of the few places on earth where you can’t force people to do what you want.”
I let out an angry sigh. Yeah, I knew just how true that was.
“Sit down and talk to me,” she continued.
I reluctantly walked over to the chair next to her bed and collapsed into it. I felt wrung out. Itchy.
I wouldn’t feel like myself again until I was out the door with Gwen by my side.