"Did Dr. Macey tell you what happened?" I asked, treading lightly. I sat on the stool on one side of Mom while Dad sat on the other. I leaned back, watching the tears glitter in his eyes as he rubbed his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.
"Yeah." He didn't look up at me.
"And?" I prompted. "Dad, just tell me."
"Drunk driver." He sniffed. "Your mom was hit by a stupid drunk driver." He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing softly. "She was on her way home, done for the night, when she was hit."
"Where's the driver now?" I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the emotion clouding my voice. I wanted my dad to know that I was old enough to know the truth, and that I wouldn't cry like a baby about it.
"I didn't ask." He shook his head. "I really just don't want to know."
I wanted to know though. There was a selfish part of me that wanted to know if that person was in a worse condition than my mom. She was innocent, driving home from the hospital, from helping people, when she was hit. Hit by a person who was under the influence, stupidly getting in the car when they knew their reaction time would be slower.
A sharp ring interrupted our conversation and Dad glanced at his phone before answering. "Hi Lauren." It was Mrs. Avery.
"I know," He said. "I just want to stay with her a while longer."
He paused as she said something and he leaned forward, rubbing his tired eyes. "Okay, we can do that. I'll see you in ten minutes."
"What happened?" I asked.
"Mrs. Avery is going to going to come pick you up so you can go home, shower, get something to eat, and sleep if you want to-"
"Dad, no," I whined. "I want to stay here with Mom. What if something happens and I'm not here?" My nose burned with the prospect of oncoming tears.
"Okay, okay," He reassured, walking over to the other side of the bed to hug me. "Just change into some new clothes and eat. Bring me back a new shirt and a sandwich or something, and Mrs. Avery will bring you back. Sound good?"
"Okay," I nodded, sniffling. "I won't be gone long."
He straightened. "Say goodbye to Mom for now and I'll walk you downstairs to wait for Mrs. Avery."
I carefully bent over her, kissing her cheek. "I'll see you soon, Mom. I love you and please keep fighting, I know you can do it."
I searched her face for some kind of movement, some sign that she heard me. I wanted her eyes to spring open, her lips to widen into a smile, and her arms to envelope me in a bone crushing hug. But her smooth skin remained as still as a porcelain doll.
Dad kept an arm wrapped around my shoulders as we went down the elevator and walked over to the main doors. I felt sick, leaving Mom alone upstairs. Fear, thick and prominent, twisted around my stomach so that I couldn't think clearly. I was so afraid that something was going to happen. Mrs. Avery walked through minutes later, rushing towards Dad and I with worry lines creasing her forehead.
She hugged us, talked to my dad, and walked me back out to her car. She tried making conversation at first, to try to lift my spirits. But I was too preoccupied, and after a couple of distracted nods, she turned up the music and allowed us to sit in silence for the remainder of the car ride.
I made the trip inside short, not able to do anything besides worry. I felt like I was walking through a fog, and only once when I was beside Mom's bedside again would I be able to see clearly and feel okay again. I took a shower, got changed, and grabbed Dad a new shirt. When I had made it back downstairs, Mrs. Avery had made a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with some fruit. We stuffed them in a lunch box, I managed a small smile as a thank you and we were back in the car again.
I leaned my forehead against the window, closing my eyes against the heat from the warm sun. Cars were crowding the highway on their way to work, honking and nudging each other along. It was weird to see so many cars now when merely hours earlier, I had seen it in its desolate form.
When Mrs. Avery pulled into the hospital parking lot, I opened my eyes, recognizing the turns of the entrance.
"Mrs. Avery?"
She looked over at me and offered me a small smile.
"Thank you for driving me."
"You're welcome, Blair. Now let's go see your mom." She took the bag of sandwiches and I took the bag with Dad's shirt, and walked into the hospital.
There was a new receptionist on duty, one that I recognized. I smiled at her, "Hi Judy."
"Hi dear. Here to see your mom?"
I nodded and she shooed me along. "Go on ahead. Is this a family friend with you? I'll have to get you checked in ma'am."
"Sure." Mrs. Avery gave Judy her information and then we were walking down the hallway that led to the elevator. I waved at a few of the nurses that I recognized standing over by the nurse's station and pressed the button, waiting as the elevator came down from the top floor. It felt like an eternity, waiting for the red numbers to blink and for the doors to finally open.
I pressed the lit up button and the doors closed. I was starting to get antsy, the nerves jumping to my limbs in anticipation to see my mom again. What if she had progressed? What if she had opened her eyes and was sitting up and talking to my dad right now?
But when the elevator doors opened on the ICU floor, my stomach flipped. Nurses and doctors spilled out of her hospital room, shouting to one another.
"Get her to OR 2 right now!"
"Hurry!"
"Keep doing compressions!"
For a moment in time, I was frozen, watching their white coats and colorful scrubs. Someone was sitting on the moving bed, doing CPR. Someone else was holding an IV bag. A few people rushed ahead to clear the way and prep the OR. Others surrounded her bed, rolling it down the hall. My dad flew out of the room after them, not even seeing Mrs. Avery and I standing there. He rushed after a nurse, asking her a million questions.
"No," I whispered, my heart starting to flutter.
"No. This can't be happening!" I exclaimed, my palms started to sweat and my stomach knotted. I dropped the bag with Dad's shirt and ran into her room, looking at the empty space and beeping monitors.
"What happened?" I shouted, glancing frantically around the room. Mrs. Avery rushed into the hospital room behind me, trying to comfort me. But I pushed past her back into the hallway.
"Dad, what happened?" I yelled down the hallway. He saw me and began to walk down the hallway, gesturing with his hands for me to stop yelling.
"I left for thirty minutes!" Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. "I left and you said it was going to be okay."
Dad tried to grab me, but I ran past him towards the nurse who was walking away slowly down the hallway. I pointed at her and yelled, "Why couldn't you guys make sure she was okay? For thirty minutes! That was how long I was gone for!"
Hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me in the air and pulling me back down the hallway. "Blair! Stop yelling! They're going to do what they can!"
"No! Put me down! Dad! Put me down!" Snot dripped down the back of my throat and I coughed. I pinched and hit at my dad's arms, but he was too strong and my palms were too sweaty. He dragged me back into Mom's hospital room and set me down. I shoved him away as soon as my feet hit the tile.
"Why did you say that she was going to be okay? I left and came back and they were doing CPR." My shoulders fell as I stared at him. "They were doing CPR on my mom."
"Blair," Dad started, taking a step forward. A tear fell from his cheek and he wiped it away. "I don't know. It all happened so fast."
"I, I don't know what to do. I thought she was dead. I, I," I began to hyperventilate, collapsing on myself. Dad caught me, holding me up. "I'm so scared. I can't breathe. Dad, I can't breathe."
"Shhh. Blair, calm down. Inhale for four seconds. Exhale for four seconds." I closed my eyes and felt my chest expand and contract. Expand and contract. Expand and contract. My tears wiped off on his shirt, creating a large dark spot on the fabric. I wrapped my arms around him, needing the comfort.
He squeezed me tighter, whispering, "Breathe, Blair. Breathe."
I hiccuped, silent tears still falling. I stared at the empty place where her hospital bed used to be.
Nuzzling my face into Dad's shirt, I let out a small whimper and mumbled, "I was gone for thirty minutes."
****
What did you think of this chapter?
It was a bit longer than the other chapters but I just couldn't seem to stop haha.
Have you discovered any new hobbies or activities while in quarantine (if you are in quarantine)? I'm personally writing more and trying to play more songs on the guitar.
I hope everyone is safe!
- Payton