Chapter 9
In a hurry to reach the ER which was a mile or so from the 709, Blake sped up the highway. Traffic was light, which was normal on an April evening before tourist season picked up.
“Slow down,” Vi cautioned. “Otherwise, we could also end up as patients.”
She had a point. He eased off the gas pedal. “As far as I know, Grandpop has never been in a car accident. He’s a good driver, and it’s barely dark out.”
“It can’t have been too serious. Otherwise, they’d be in an ambulance and on their way to the hospital.”
“Caroline didn’t say how they were getting to the ER, but if she’s driving Grandpop’s car, that can’t be good.” For the first time since his father had died some twenty years earlier, Blake was scared. “For all we know, they could end up at the hospital.” The thought of his grandfather seriously injured was unbearable, and he swallowed hard as he braked for a red light. “Grandpop is like a father to me. If anything happens to him…” He clamped his jaw and gripped the wheel.
Vi laid her hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t used to being comforted by anyone and wasn’t a man who cried, but he was on the verge of losing his cool. “What are you doing?” he said in a voice that sounded gruff to his own ears. Better that than break down.
“The same thing you did for me—easing your worries.” She took her hand away, and he was sorry he’d asked.
She didn’t seem to take offense. “I feel the same way about Gran,” she said softly. “She and Gramps were the only stable adults in my childhood. But sinking into the darkest place possible isn’t helping. We don’t know what the situation is. It seems to me if things were that serious, we would’ve heard from a medic instead of Gran.”
“Why didn’t Grandpop call instead?”
“I’m sure we’ll get answers when we get there.” She laced her fingers together in her lap.
The light turned green and he continued toward the ER. “We need info,” he said. “It sucks that we’re still a good fifteen minutes away.”
“That’s not so far, and you’re making good time. I’ll call Gran and put my cell in speaker mode.” Caroline’s phone rang and rang, but no answer. “Either she doesn’t have it with her or she turned it off at dinner and forgot to turn it back on,” Vi said. “I’ll try Malcom instead.”
“Forget that and contact the ER directly.”
The voice message on that phone explained they’d answer in the order taken. “Must be a busy night,” he grumbled.
“Someone will probably be on the line soon. We don’t need to stew about what-ifs on the rest of the drive. Let’s eat our cookies now.”
He didn’t have much appetite and only managed a bite or two. Vi didn’t eat, either. When he pulled into the parking lot at the ER some minutes later, her call was still on hold. She disconnected. The lot appeared to be full. “Be on the lookout for a parking spot,” he advised.
“I see something the next row over.” She swallowed. “I’m worried sick, Blake.”
“You and me both.” He pulled into the slot and they exited the car. Heart in his throat, he reached for her hand, and they headed for the door.
A dozenor so people sat in the ER waiting room, speaking in hushed voices. After what Gran had said about her condition, Vi had expected to see her and possibly Malcom seated and biding their time for their turn, but there was no sign of either of them. Seized with fear—was Gran more hurt than she’d let on and Malcom badly banged up?—she was glad for Blake’s hand in hers.
They approached the front desk, where a harried woman took their names and asked them to be seated. “That won’t work,” Blake said. “We’re relatives. We need to see them.”
Magic words that allowed them to enter the hallway leading to the exam rooms. Wearing the masks handed out at the desk, standard protocol in the waiting room, they approached the nurse’s station. “We’re looking for Caroline Newberger and Malcom I’m, Debra,” Blake said, his eyes on the name tag pinned on her shirt. “They’re our grandparents.”
“But not married,” Vi clarified.
Debra clicked the keyboard on the computer in front of her. “Let me check their room numbers, Mr. and Mrs.—is it Essex or Newberger?”
“We’re not married, either,” Vi quickly explained.
“Definitely not,” Blake added.
Debra looked appalled at herself. “I’m sorry, I thought?—”
Blake flashed a quick smile, no doubt to put her at ease. “No problem. Where can we find them?”
As soon as they had the room numbers, they started down the hallway. Vi leaned slightly toward him, felt his warmth, and wanted to sink against him for comfort’s sake. He didn’t react, and she cleared her throat. “I can’t believe she thought we were married.”
“That was unexpected,” he said. “I guess because we’re here together.”
“Probably. There’s Gran’s room.”
“Looks like Grandpop is next door. See you in a bit.”
Pulling in a fortifying breath, Vi knocked on the closed door. “Hi, Gran,” she called out and opened it.
She noted an empty chair in the room. Gran lay propped up on a hospital bed, a blanket covering her. Unused equipment stood here and there, with a monitor tracking blood pressure, temperature and other things.
A look of sheer relief crossed her grandma’s face. “You made good time. I’m glad to see you.”
She didn’t look too banged up, at least not to Vi. “Have you seen a doctor yet?”
“No, but a darling nurse is keeping an eye on me.” She looked pale and exhausted.
“Are you in pain?” Vi asked.
“A headache. I hit my head. My arm hurts, too.”
Oh, no. Vi hoped she didn’t have a concussion. “What happened?”
“Malcom and I were in the car, and?—”
“Fighting when you’re driving is a bad idea.”
“Fighting? We weren’t even speaking to each other. And now…” Gran’s eyes filled, and she bit her lip.
She’d never cried in front of Vi, and seeing her about to fall apart nearly broke her heart. “Neither you nor Malcom should drive when you’re upset,” she said as gently as she could. “Anyway, I thought he didn’t drive at night.”
“Remember, it wasn’t close to dark when we arrived at the restaurant, and we left shortly after you did.” Her hands twisted the corner of the blanket. “We shouldn’t have fought that way, especially in public. What Malcom planned to do without a word to me was shocking. Then he yelled, and I let my temper get the better of me. By the way, remind me to thank Blake for paying for our dinner.”
Vi nodded and prodded, “About the accident…”
“It wasn’t Malcom’s fault. A teenage boy driving around with his friends crashed into us.”
“Oh, my God. Are they hurt, too?”
“They didn’t need to come to the ER, so I doubt it. You should see Malcom’s beautiful gold Mercedes. We think it’s been totaled. His mechanic will let us know. The car has already been towed there. The boy called his parents and they came right over.”
“How’s Malcom?”
“He was able to arrange a tow of his car to the garage and talk with his insurance agent. But he’s in pain, too. Terrible pain.”
This was worrisome. Vi wondered how Blake was coping. Soon enough, she’d find out. “You called from his phone?”
“I left mine at home. Can you believe that?”
“How did you get here? Did you call Falcon Ride Service?”
For a moment, Gran looked puzzled. Then, “Ah, you mean the ride share company Malcom founded. We didn’t have to. A nice policeman, Officer Noodling, helped us. Isn’t that a funny name? He issued a ticket to the driver and checked both Malcom and me for injuries. He’s the one who decided to bring us here.”
“I’m so sorry, Gran, and I wish we hadn’t left the restaurant when we did.”
“Don’t worry about that. It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
Gran closed her eyes, and Vi clenched her hands at her sides. “Are you okay?”
“I will be, once my head and arm stop hurting.”
Vi sat in the empty chair. After over an hour with nothing happening, her patience snapped. Enough waiting for the doctor. She stood. “I’ll be right back.” As she reached the door to Gran’s room, a sharp knock sounded and the door opened.
A man who couldn’t have been much older than Vi strode in. Tall and thin, he looked like a gangly teen himself. “I’m Dr. Martin,” he said. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Newberger?”
“Please, call me Caroline. My head hurts and so does my arm.”
“The nurse told me. That’s quite a bruise on your upper arm.”
Vi hadn’t noticed that. “I’m Vi Preston, Caroline’s granddaughter,” she told the doctor.
“Nice to meet you,” he said and started a thorough checkup on Gran. “I ordered a CT scan to make sure your head and neck are okay. Someone will be here shortly to take you upstairs where we do all that.”
“While the doctor examines me, why don’t you wait outside, Vi,” Gran suggested.
“Okay. I’ll stay nearby.”
She stepped into the hallway and found Blake pacing around. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Is Malcom okay?”
“He’s getting his ribs x-rayed. The doctor wants to see if he broke something.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“No, but otherwise, he seems okay. Except his right cheek. It’s bruised and swollen. How’s Caroline?”
As Vi updated him, a CT nurse wheeled Gran away to get her scan.
“Sounds like they’ll both survive,” Blake said.
“Let’s hope. Did Malcom tell you what happened?”
“He didn’t feel like talking.”
“Here’s what Gran said.” She lowered her voice and filled him in.
“I’d like to give that kid a piece of my mind,” he muttered.
“I’m sure his parents will do that. Whether or not the Mercedes is totaled, the family’s insurance rates will skyrocket. I’m going to text my mother now, then call Rose and update her. She’ll probably be asleep—it’s two hours later in Mexico but she’d want to know. I’ll leave a voice message.”
He nodded. “Ditto with Whitney and my mother.”