Chapter 3 #2
"Lucky you were there, then." I shifted against the pillow, trying to find a position that didn't make my head throb. "What were you doing at the school anyway?"
"Dropping off materials for Fire Safety Week. Posters, some equipment for the demonstrations." He shrugged.
Before I could respond, a nurse pushed through the curtain, tablet in hand. "Ms. Cummins? Just need to verify a few things." She glanced at Shane's shirt, then back at me. "You must be the firefighter who called it in?"
"Her boyfriend, actually," Shane said.
I stared at him. He met my eyes. Something in his expression shifted: a slight raise of his eyebrows, a barely perceptible nod as if to say “Just go with it.”
I didn't understand. I should have corrected him, but my head was pounding, and arguing felt like too much work.
The nurse smiled, charmed. "Lucky girl." She tapped something on her tablet. "The doctor will be in shortly to go over the CT results."
When she was gone, I turned to him. "What are we doing?"
“You really didn’t have to come. I’ve already taken up enough of your day.” Shane shrugged, but there was something deliberate underneath the casual. "You want to sit here alone for six hours, or do you want to get home?"
"Six hours?" My stomach dropped. "I have to stay here for six hours?"
"At least. Standard protocol for head injuries with loss of consciousness.
They'll want to monitor you, make sure there's no delayed bleeding or swelling.
" He said it matter-of-factly, like he'd explained this a hundred times before.
He probably had. "The CT might be clear, but that doesn't mean you're out of the woods yet. "
Six hours. It was close to 2:00 PM. I'd still be able to make it home around my usual time, but I needed to let Zoe know just in case they asked me to stay longer.
"I need to send a text," I said, reaching for my phone on the side table.
"Everything okay?"
"Just need to let my daughter know where I am."
Something flickered across his face, but he didn't say anything. He just leaned back in his chair and gave me space.
I typed out a message to Zoe.
Maya
Hey honey. I'm at the hospital. Bumped my head at school and they want to keep me for observation. Nothing serious, I promise. Stay with Millie tonight, do your homework, order pizza. I'll be home later. Love you.
I sent a similar message to Millie. Zoe's reply came a minute later.
Zoe
wtf mom?? are you ok???
Maya
I'm fine. Just a precaution. Don't worry.
Zoe
ok mom
That was as close to "I love you too" as I was going to get, so I set the phone down.
When I looked up, Shane was watching me.
"How old is she?" Shane asked. "Your daughter."
"Thirteen."
Most people, when they found out I had a teenage daughter, did the math. I could see it behind their eyes, the calculation, the judgment. Shane just looked at me like he'd filed the information away without weighing it.
"Thirteen's a fun age," he said.
"Zoe thinks I'm embarrassing."
"Then you're doing something right."
The hours passed. Shane kept up a steady stream of easy conversation, nothing heavy, nothing probing. Stories about calls that went sideways in funny ways. The time a crew member got stuck in a window during a drill. The ongoing war over whose turn it was to clean the firehouse bathroom.
I found myself laughing, then wincing because laughing hurt my head.
"Sorry," Shane said, not sorry at all. "I'll try to be less charming."
"Please do."
But I didn't mean it. And I think he knew.
At 6:45, the doctor cleared me for discharge.
"You'll need someone to drive you home," he said. "And someone to check on you every few hours tonight. Wake you up, make sure you're oriented."
He looked at Shane. Shane nodded.
The paperwork was simple. Shane stood close while I signed where they pointed, his paramedic credentials smoothing every wrinkle. The nurse smiled at us like we were a normal couple.
"Take care of her," the nurse said to Shane.
"I will."
The drive home was quiet at first. The city slid past the windows, lights coming on as dusk settled over Queens. My head throbbed in time with my heartbeat, but the pain was duller now, manageable.
"Thank you," I said. "For everything today. You really didn't have to do any of this."
"Don't mention it."
"I'm serious. You spent your entire day off in a hospital waiting room for a complete stranger. That's—"
"That's a lot better than doing laundry, which was my original plan." He glanced at me, a hint of a smile on his face. "Trust me, you did me a favor."
I shook my head, then immediately regretted it as pain spiked behind my eyes. "You have a weird definition of favor."
"I've been told."
At my building, he walked me to the door and ran through the concussion protocol one more time. Headache that gets worse, confusion, nausea, call 911 immediately.
Then he asked for my number.
"To check in," he said.
I knew I should say no. Should keep this strange day contained, a weird story to tell Millie later, nothing more.
But I gave it to him anyway. I didn't know why.
Millie opened the door before I could reach for my keys, Zoe hovering behind her. Shane offered a little wave.
"She's all yours," he told Millie. "Make sure she actually sleeps."
He turned to me. "Goodnight, Maya."
"Goodnight. And thank you. Again."
"Stop thanking me." He was already walking backward toward the elevator. "Feel better."
The elevator doors closed behind him. I stood in the doorway for a moment, Zoe tugging at my sleeve, Millie asking who that man was, my head still pounding.
I stepped inside and closed the door, sat down on the couch, and let the noise wash over me.
For years, David's voice had been the loudest thing in my head. Too much work. Too much mess. No one's going to want you.
Tonight, it was barely a whisper.