Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“She’s going to be okay, Elly,” Grammercy says as he pulls into a parking spot in the dedicated ER lot. “I can feel it.”
I nod, holding in all the words rising inside me.
Things like—yeah, she’ll probably be okay tonight. But what about tomorrow night? What about next week, when our insurance is gone? What about a year from now, two years, three?
Is a better standard of life really in the cards for my little girl?
Or is our life always going to feel like this…like we’re driving on thin ice, always dangerously close to skidding over the center line into oncoming traffic?
After he’s shut off the car, Grammercy shocks me by reaching over, covering my fisted hands with his and saying in a low, comforting voice, “You’re not alone tonight, okay? I’m here. Just let me know what you need, and I’ll do my best to help in any way I can.”
Blinking away tears, I squeak, “You’re c-coming in? You don’t have to. I never expected— I mean, just giving me a ride was such a help, I never—”
“Oh, hush, chère,” he cuts in gently. “Of course, I’m coming in. Come on, let’s go find your baby.”
Nodding fast, I rasp out, “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Across the parking lot, the automatic doors of the children’s ER whoosh open in front of us with a mechanical sigh, releasing a wave of sensory memories, none of them good. It’s not just my own little girl’s suffering that I’ve witnessed here. Memories of other kids’ tears and cries of pain echo in my ears as I hurry to the check-in area.
It’s Pammy on duty tonight. She recognizes me on sight and is already holding out a visitor’s badge by the time I reach the desk, proving I’ve been here too many damn times.
“Hey, Elly. She’s in bay twelve, sweetheart,” Pammy says, with a tired smile. “I’ll open the doors. You know the way.” She arches a brow at Grammercy, interest sparking in her weary gaze. “Do you need another badge? For your…friend?”
“Yes, please,” Grammercy says.
“Y-yes, please,” I echo inanely as I clip the badge to my shirt with trembling fingers. But now that I’m here, so close to Mimi, I’m finding it even harder to focus on anything else, even my NHL escort.
I need to see her.
Now.
As soon as the automatic doors open, I bustle down the corridor, Grammercy keeping pace close behind me. The hallway feels endless, lined with cheerful murals of cartoon animals that are supposed to make the experience of being a kid in the hospital feel less terrifying, but somehow only make it feel more surreal.
Bay ten… bay eleven…
“This one,” I whisper, more to myself than to Grammercy, pushing aside the pale blue curtain that serves as a door. “Mimi?”
“Elly! You’re here.” Nancy practically launches herself out of the uncomfortable-looking chair beside Mimi’s bed. The exhaustion on her face tells the story of the last hour, but her smile is real. “She’s doing so much better. Fever’s down to one hundred at the last check, and she started asking for a snack a few minutes ago. Feeling snacky is always a good sign in my book.”
“Mine, too. Thank you so much, Nancy, you’re the best,” I say, but I’m already moving past her, to where my baby girl is propped up against pillows in the narrow hospital bed, her big eyes locked on me. “Hey, bug. How are you feeling?”
“Poopy,” Mimi says, summoning a soft snort of amusement from behind me. “But not as poopy as before. I’m glad you’re here, Mama. I needed your hugs.”
“I needed yours, too, baby.” I perch on the side of her mattress, wrapping my arms around her as she burrows into my chest. I stroke a gentle hand up and down her back. Her dark curls are still damp with sweat, but her voice is strong as she whispers, “And I’m starving. I need apple juice and chips.”
“We’ll get you some,” I assure her as she sits back. “As soon as the nurses say it’s okay.” I give her wrist a gentle squeeze, carefully avoiding the IV taped to her tiny hand. “How was the needle? Not too pokey this time?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, the nurse was super good and got it in one try. And then the doctor gave me medicine that tastes like cherry instead of the yucky bubble gum.”
I nod, forcing an upbeat note into my voice. “Sounds like a ten out of ten. I mean, as far as hospital visits go. And you got to ride in the ambulance. You haven’t ridden in one of those in a long time. Were the lights awesome and flashy?”
Her still glassy eyes flicker with excitement. “Yeah, it was fun. They put the siren on super loud. It was cool, even though it hurt my head a little.” She lowers her voice as she adds in a whisper loud enough for half the ward to hear, “And Nancy cussed when we hit a big speed bump.”