Grace
Flipping through a magazine and doing my best not to gag every time the small child that sat two seats to left sneezed, I wait patiently for Dr. Steed to come back and inform me of Will's condition. I've been sitting in this very uncomfortable chair for the past three hours, two of which were spent waiting and filling out forms before any type of doctor decided to come out and see what's wrong with my boyfriend.
There weren't a lot of people waiting in the seating area, and from what I could tell most of the people who did come walking through those doors were just visitors instead of possible patients. The receptionist was a bit of snob and I found this out when I went to ask for the bathroom key and she gave me a degrading look while she stuck her nose up in the air.
Behind me was a middle aged man who was slurring his words and came in for what I'm guessing is a broken arm from the way it's bent in a weird angle. A lady came in a while ago, screaming in pain and yelling about how she was going into labour – I can still hear her screams whenever I shut my eyes. A teenage boy and girl came in an hour ago around the time Will was sent off for the usual check up and I figured out that the two were siblings when they were arguing if they should call their parents or not.
In the seating area there's about six strangers who came in for an actual body related issue and four were only visitors or family.
As I continue to wait patiently, tapping my foot softly on the floor, the volume on the TV over head on the wall behind me becomes louder. I twist my body so I could see what was happening and a gasp escapes the mouth of the drunk. On the TV the news was playing, and a reporter apologized quickly for interrupting anything we had been doing before watching this.
Apparently there was going to be a snow storm hitting us tonight, just out of Minnesota. Though, I didn't trust the weather people, I was still a little on edge. The little boy who kept sneezing started to complain about how Christmas was ruined and how it was all the 'Grinch's fault'. I didn't know how happy I would be to get out of there until Dr. Steed walks up to me.
On the walk to Will's room where he'll be staying for the time being Dr. Steed begins to explain what's the matter with him. He tells me it was, indeed, a gallbladder attacks and that he's just passing a calcium stone. Some of the information he couldn't tell me because it would break the doctor-patient confidentiality.
When I do get to the room that he's staying in I pause for a second, giving me that short second to ready myself for anything I might see on the other side of the door. But when it opens and I'm stepping inside I find Will playing Blackjack with an elderly woman who lied on the bed besides his.
Looking over my boyfriend I see that he's hooked up to an IV drip. He's wearing a hospital gown, but since one of his legs is sticking out from under the blanket that covers him I see that he's also wearing a pair of sweats. He looks a lot more relaxed then he had a couple of hours ago, but that was probably just because of the pain medication they had put in him. When my eyes take I closer look I see that there's a small cotton ball tapped onto his right arm were they had taken the blood.
He's looking a little pale, but that's most likely from not having anything in his stomach. The tattoo on his arm – that I barely even pay attention to – looks darker on his skin thanks to his pale complexion which makes it sound out more. Once I'm done giving him a once over I walk over to his bedside.
"Hey," I say, and his head turns. As soon as he gets a look of me a wide grin spreads across his face.
"Hey, Gracie," he says back, happily.
"How're you feeling?" I ask, biting my lip as I wait for a response. He holds up a finger, telling me to give him a second as he looks down at his cards and then puts them on the table, flashing the lady to his left a cocky smirk.
"I win!" He cheers, and snatches the money off the table. The lady grumbles something under her breath as she grabs her wallet and pulls out a twenty, handing it to Will.
"You play a fair game, Reed," she tells him, smirking an showing off her teeth – well she was missing a couple which made it kind of hard to look at her. Then her eyes trail over to me and she smiles. "You must be his girlfriend – the one this moron can't keep his mouth shut about."
"Hey!" Will shouts, glaring at her. "I beat you at your own game and you're calling me a moron?"
All she does is nod. "Yes. What part do you not understand?"
He rolls his eyes and then looks up at me. "She's just jealous because I can play better and I'm not sagging."
The lady snorts. "Ha! That's what you think. Wait a couple of years, boy. You'll regret ever making fun of me when you can't even get some."
Will gives her a pointed look. "Yeah, and how old are you? Sixty-five? Seventy?"
She gaps at him, a challenging glint in her eye. "I'm only fifty-two, you arse monkey!"
He only laughs, raising an eyebrow, "Really? Because that's not what it said on clipboard."
"I will not hesitate to kill you," she warns him, glaring daggers.
Again, he chuckles. "You'd have to get out of bed to do so, you old fart bag."
"Okay, okay, that's enough you two." Dr. Steed butts in, not wanting World War three on his hands. "Ingrid, you could try to be nicer and Will, we need to discuss what are next step is going to be."
Ingrid – the old lady's name – slumps in her bed, "Fine. But only because you're the only doctor here who gets me the good stuff."
Dr. Steed rolls his eyes. "Thank you, Ingrid," he tells her and then turns to face Will. "Now, Will, you know what we had discussed earlier and I hope you understand what this means. We aren't going to be taking out your gallbladder today – it's just irritated. Since you are still young the stress that's been put onto you has been driven to a different source. In other cases, if you were older, this might have lead to a heart attack. Before you leave today we are going to give you some medication that should help with the stress, and that if you, in fact, feeling stressed I want you talk to someone, okay?"
Will's eyebrows scrunch together in thought, letting what Dr. Steed had said sink in before nodding. "Okay. I understand. When do you think we can get me home, because it's Christmas, and I'd really like to spend with my family instead of spending it here?"
Dr. Steed ponders on this and then smiles. "In another hour after I get the meds sorted out. Then, when that's done, you and your girlfriend can go back home. Sound good?"
Will nods frantically, a grin reappearing on his face, "Sounds fantastic."
***
After a ten minute drive back from the hospital and spending and extra fifteen just to get Will comfortable on the couch, I could now, finally, relax. Dr. Steed had told me that it would be best for Will to sleep on the couch or somewhere where we could get to him if he needed us. He had been quite fussy, not wanting to sleep or rest downstairs, but after a short debate he gave up.
At the hospital, before we left, they gave him another shot of morphine and it was just starting to take effect. Lucas sat at the end of the couch, by Will's feet, and he was softly reading one of his children books to him. I don't think he realized that his uncle was fast asleep – or maybe he was by the way a small smile tugged at his lips when the story ended.
I changed my clothes as soon as we got back. A hot shower was definitely needed, but I decide to take one later after I've ate something. Vivien could apparently read minds as when I'm about to get up from my spot on the recliner she shows up, holding a plate in her hands that two sandwiches on it. I take it from her, thanking her, and when's gone I begin to scarf down the food that I had been given.
Across the room James gives me a weird look, but I ignore him as I smile in satisfaction. I don't remember falling asleep, but the last thing I recall is watching to men fight each other and then just darkness. But I figure I have since there's a blankets draped over me and the sky outside is just started to dim with light. I notice something else, it was the blanket, and it had a picture of Sponge bob Square Pants on it.
I look over to my right and see Will eating a bowl of oatmeal. A smile appears on my face at the sight of him and I could tell he was doing better by the way color had returned to his face. He doesn't eat the entire bowl and just sets it down on the coffee table. With slight difficulty he moves to lie down. That the last thing I see before I fall back a sleep; him watching TV.
***
I wake up again and hour later. My body is spiraled out on the recliner and my back is aching from the weird angle I'm lying at. It takes me a minute or two just to unravel myself from the blanket. When I finally get up and off the chair and look around at my surroundings there's no one in the living room. For a second I'm confused, but then I hear laughter coming from the dining room.
Walking out of the living room and to the kitchen, I find everyone sitting around the table. There laughing at something unknown to me, and I felt a little out of place. When they hear my footsteps the laughter dies down and all eyes are on me. I shift side to side, uncomfortable with the attention, but then Samantha waves her hand, smiling at me.
I slowly make my way over to her, and sit in between her and Will. She politely asks if I wanted the potatoes and I nod as she hands me the dish. Beside me Will whispers a greeting and then takes his time as he chews on his piece of turkey.
I eat alongside everyone else, laughing at jokes that were made, and trying not to choke on my food when Henry does something stupid. This felt like a family and for the rest of the night I felt like I was part of it.
If you follow me then you might know that I sent out a note explaining how 'Walk Of Shame' got deleted thanks to my computer freezing. Luckily, I backed up all chapters, so no need to worry. It's currently staying in my drafts (off of wattpad) for safe keeping. I love the story and I will continue to write it, just I'm finding difficulty to do so as most of my attention is focused on finishing this book.
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