Home > Home For The Holidays(120)

Home For The Holidays(120)
Author: Elena Aitken

“Shit. That’s okay. That’s fine. We’ll clean it up later. Try to get some more down.”

“Do…do I need to speed up?”

“If you can.”

Hannah sucked in a breath. The faster she went, the faster this would be over. She pressed the accelerator.

It was the longest four miles of her life.

By the time they lurched to a stop outside the Emergency Department of Wilton Memorial Hospital, her stomach threatened to revolt.

“Run in, get a nurse,” Ryan ordered.

More than ready to get out of the driver’s seat, she hurled herself out of the SUV, nearly falling as her legs trembled with relief that they’d made it. That help was just on the other side of those doors. She stumbled into the ER. “Help, please. We’ve got an eighty-one year old man in the car in—” What had Ryan said? “—probable diabetic ketoacidosis. He’s barely conscious.”

The nurse manning the desk made a call and suddenly everybody was in motion. A gurney appeared from somewhere and a group of people rushed outside. Shaking with the chill of lingering panic, Hannah trailed after them, giving the whole crew a wide berth as they transferred Percy out of the backseat. Over the roar in her ears, she could just hear Ryan spouting off medical stuff she didn’t really understand. Percy’s skin was flushed and his chest heaved with big, gasping breaths, as if his lungs weren’t working right.

As the automatic doors slid open, someone asked Ryan, “Are you family?”

He hesitated. “It’s complicated.”

She didn’t hear the response. Someone else had pulled up behind the SUV. She had to move it out of the way. On another deep breath, she made herself get back in, taking another couple of deep breaths in hopes of calming her nerves before she shifted into drive. It took mere minutes to park and run back up to the building. No incidents either time. She didn’t have the bandwidth to think about that as she raced back inside.

Ryan stood in front of the double doors leading to the treatment rooms, his hands loose, shoulders slumped. The raw, unguarded fear in his face simply gutted her. In that moment, it didn’t matter that he’d been an asshole. It didn’t matter what he’d said. He looked like a man washed up on a foreign shore, and she couldn’t just leave him there alone.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his waist, willing him to take the comfort she offered. On a pained sound, he curled around her, burying his face in her hair and holding on tight. She fisted her hands in his jacket, a fresh knot of tears clogging her throat as she breathed in the scent of him. And for just a moment, it didn’t matter how she’d gotten here. She was back in his arms, and the warmth of him thawed the last, lingering cold of fear from facing her demons and the sickness at how they’d parted.

They stood that way for a long time, until the next incoming emergency forced them to relocate out of the path of foot traffic. But he didn’t let her go.

Gripping tight to her hands he stared down into her face. “You drove.”

“I guess I did.”

“You were amazing.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t—”

“Don’t say it wasn’t a big deal. I know it was for you. And I’m grateful you pushed through your fear for Percy. If we hadn’t gotten him here this fast…”

“He’s going to be okay.” She knew no such thing, but her default state was optimism, and whether it was true or not, they both needed the lie.

“I know my opinion shouldn’t matter, and I know you probably don’t ever want to see me again, but I’m proud of you.”

“I…Thank you.” His opinion did matter. A part of her wanted to flush with pleasure at his praise, but talking about all this with Percy’s life hanging in the balance left her uneasy.

Dipping his head, he seemed to search for words. The discomfort in his eyes was palpable. “I want to say, too, that I’m sorry. I was a jerk. I don’t have any excuse. But I’d like to tell you the reason, if you’ll listen. I feel like I owe you that.”

She wanted that reason. Had driven herself crazy the last couple of days trying to imagine what it might be so that his behavior made some kind of sense. But she didn’t need it right this second. “It can wait until we get through all this. You’ll have paperwork and whatever else. And people to call about Percy’s status, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Under the circumstances, I don’t have any right to ask you this but…”

Calling herself ten kinds of fool, she stepped into him. “Of course, I’ll stay.”

Some of the tension seemed to leech out of his frame and he dropped his brow to hers. “Thank you.”

“Mr. Malone?”

Hannah recognized the brunette nurse as Corinne McGee, one of the diner’s former waitresses. She had a clipboard in her hand.

“We’ve got Mr. Gannaway on fluids and are monitoring his condition closely. He’s not out of the woods yet, but you were spot-on in your diagnosis.”

Ryan’s expression shifted back into professional mode, but his fingers tightened around hers. “Is there a prognosis yet?”

“The doctor will be out to talk with you as soon as she can.”

He simply nodded. To anyone who didn’t know him, he’d appear calm and collected, totally in control. But his brittle edges stood out to her like flares. If anything happened to Percy…

No. Nothing was going to happen to Percy. He was going to be fine. They’d gotten him here in time, and she refused to acknowledge any other outcome. One of them had to maintain some optimism. Ryan was far too close to breaking.

Corinne held out the clipboard. “I understand you aren’t exactly family, but as you were the one who brought him in, can you fill out as much of this paperwork as you can?”

“Of course.”

As soon as they sat down, he stared at the forms as if they were in a whole other language. Hannah’s heart pinched at seeing him anything other than a hundred percent capable. He was so used to taking care of everybody else, she didn’t think he ever acknowledged he needed someone to take care of him. She wanted to do that for him, wanted to ease this burden.

She squeezed his arm. “Maybe I should get us some coffee.”

“Yeah, okay.”

She rose just as the exterior doors slid open again and someone walked in with a service dog. The sight of it snapped her brain into gear again. “Oh my God, Duke!”

“What?”

“He’s probably going nuts in the house. We just left him.” Was this what had happened with his previous owner?

“I didn’t even think about him.” Ryan rubbed at his temple, as if this was one more thing he wasn’t sure he could handle.

This, at least, she could fix. “It’ll be fine. I’ll get him taken care of.”

He shot her a look of gratitude as she pulled out her phone and dialed. “Brooke. It’s Hannah. I need a favor.”

 

 

Over the long hours, the ER waiting room had mostly emptied out. Ryan had done his duty, calling all the family who was still waiting for word. His mom had been ready to drive down on the spot, but he’d urged her to wait until there was more definitive news on Percy’s condition. Hannah had made arrangements for Brooke to keep Duke until they were free to come get him, so that was one less detail to worry about. She’d also called Betty and the rest of the Casserole Patrol, who’d set up a vigil for several hours in one corner of the waiting room. He’d finally convinced them to go home around midnight, with promises he’d send word if anything changed before morning.

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