Chapter Eighteen
“You got him here right in time,” Dr. Andressen informed me, playing with the click of his pen. “Your boyfriend was moments away from his appendix rupturing. Tough kid. He’s got a high tolerance for pain.”
“He played in the football game today. Made three touchdowns.”
“So he told me. Lucky he wasn’t tackled; that could have been devastating.” We both paused for a moment to count that blessing.
“We’re going to transfer him to Princeton Hospital via ambulance; he needs an emergency appendectomy. Porter is resting somewhat comfortably right now, but we need to move quickly, and before we move forward, we would like to have a conversation with his parents. Is Charles here with you?”
“I think you’re confused. Charles isn’t his dad, he’s his teammate and closest friend at Princeton. Porter’s parents are Delsie and Olden Beaumont; they live in South Carolina.”
“Yes, yes, I got that. Porter asked that Charles be the one to call his parents. The nurse at the front desk has their number pulled up.”
“Charles isn’t here yet, but I am,” I snapped at the doctor, misdirecting my hurt that Porter yet again didn’t want me talking to his parents but apparently was okay if Charles did.
“Okay, well, he’s very insistent on Charles, but I don’t think we should wait. Let me go and check with Porter about how he wants to handle it, or do you want to go back and ask him?”
“If he’s resting, let him rest,” I demanded in a tone that told this doctor several decades my senior not to mess with my directive. “I’ll call the Beaumonts.”
“Okay, your call. Go see Brenda up front; she has the number. After you let them know what’s going on, hand the phone to Brenda, and she can talk them through the details of the transfer and the procedure so we can get this show on the road.
It’s a fairly routine surgery, but unfortunately, time is not on our side.
While you are doing that, I’m going to go talk Porter through the next couple of hours.
” I nodded once. I got the instructions loud and clear.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Mrs. Beaumont. This is Callie Steele.” I gripped the phone. My first conversation with Porter’s mother was to deliver scary news. I straightened my posture to attempt to imbue strength and confidence over the long-distance line that everything would be alright with her son.
“Sorry, hold on, I can’t quite hear you.” A large stream of water in the background turned off. “Better. Now who did you say this is?”
“Callie Steele. From Princeton.” Silence sat on the other end. “Porter’s girlfriend,” I offered for greater clarification.
“Well, now. I wasn’t aware he had one.”
In shock, I handed the phone to Brenda.