“I have to go,” Maggie says coming back from the kitchen. I jerk my head up to see what’s wrong because I can hear fear in her tone, and I don’t like it.
“Where? What’s wrong? Was that about Terry?” I ask, standing up instantly, every nerve in my body standing at attention.
“No. It’s my Mom,” Maggie says, her voice trembling.
“Maggie? What’s wrong?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything else.
“She was in a wreck. Petal didn’t know any details only that an ambulance transported her to Mercy. Bryant what if… I mean…What if….”
“Your mom is fine, Maggie. Let’s go. I’ll get you to the hospital, so you can see for yourself. Has anyone contacted Jansen?”
“He’s at the hospital. He had Luka call Petal and asked her to let us all know. Bryant, I can’t lose my mom…”
“You’re not going to lose her, Maggie. Now, let’s get going, honey,” I murmur, while nudging her toward the door.
“You can’t go. You need to be here to pick Terry up from school,” she says, trying to resist my hold.
“I’ll call my buddy Dave and have him pick up Terry. Terry loves playing with his son,” I explain. Maggie nods and lets me lead her toward the door.
“I can’t lose my mom, Bryant,” she repeats, sounding lost.
“You won’t, Maggie May. You won’t,” I respond again, praying to God I’m right.
I get to my truck and open the door and then help her inside. Before I can close the door, Maggie reaches out and grabs my hand.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Bryant,” she whispers.
I lean in and kiss her forehead, closing my eyes because she sounds terrified, and I don’t want her to ever be scared.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Maggie,” I respond, and this makes my decision final. I’m going to take Green’s offer. If I’d been on the road and left Maggie to deal with this alone, I would have never forgiven myself. Never.
39
Maggie
The short ride to the hospital seems to take forever. I can’t for the life of me find my voice to talk, but after Bryant made sure Terry had a ride, he held my hand the entire time and something about that helped more than I could have imagined.
Going through the front doors of the hospital, I feel like my heart is going to literally pound out of my chest. I can’t seem to catch my breath and I’m trying to prepare myself for the worst. I can’t even form words. Bryant, luckily, is taking charge. He guides us to the emergency room entrance and although that made perfect sense, I would have never thought of it myself.
“We’re here to see Ida Sue Lucas. She was brought in by an ambulance earlier. She was in a car wreck,” Bryant tells the lady at the front desk. She doesn’t respond but taps away on her computer and I want to shake her. I resist, but only because Bryant is holding my hand.
“Ma’am?” Bryant prompts her because it’s like she hasn’t even acknowledged our presence.
“I was checking,” she says, giving out an annoyed breath. I know she’s probably overworked and underpaid, because most people are these days. Still, if you’re in an area where people are going through something so scary, a little bit of care—or at least consideration, would be nice. “She’s been taken upstairs to the third floor already,” she says.
She doesn’t say what room or anything else, but it doesn’t matter. Bryant already has my hand and is pulling me in the direction of the elevators.
“Only immediate family are allowed in her room and only two at a time!” she calls out, but we both ignore her.
The ride on the elevator is unbelievably slow. The doors finally slide back, and Bryant doesn’t even stop at the nurses station. Instead, he looks at the giant white board that has patient names and sees the name Lucas with nurse assignments and other things that are mostly Greek to me. It says she’s in room three-ten, and I hope that’s right because we head there at what feels like the speed of light.
When we open the door, we are bombarded by all things Lucas. More importantly, I hear my mother’s voice. I think that’s the first time I take a real breath.
“Oh, that’s much better,” she says. “Thank you, Faith, dear.”
“You’re welcome, Ida Sue,” Faith answers, and as we walk deeper into the room, Faith looks up at us and smiles.
“There’s Maggie and Bryant,” Petal says, but I just go straight to our mother. She’s in a hospital gown and there’s an ugly, shockingly white bandage all along the side of her face. Her arm is also in a sling. She’s got an IV attached to her other arm. I can also see that she has some bruising on her neck and chest.
“Mom, are you okay?” I whisper. She looks good—well, at least better than I imagined.
“I’m fine, baby.”
“She could have been killed,” Jansen growls, clearly not happy. He’s staring at Mom like he’s ready to spit nails.
“What happened?” Bryant asks from behind me as I hold my mother’s hand.
“Oh, it was nothing, silly really,” Mom says, and that makes Jansen snort—and not with humor.
“Mom, are you okay?” Black and Addie come in just as urgently as I did earlier. The small room now has Faith, Titan, Jansen, Petal, Luka, me, Bryant and them. It’s starting to get cramped, but before Black and Addie even get to Mom’s bedside, Blue and Green are coming in.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Green practically yells.
“Mom, are you alright?” Blue says, literally on his heels.
“I’m alright,” Mom rushes to assure everyone as we gather around her. She barely gets the words out, though, before Gray and C.C. come in with the twins in tow.
“Mom, what happened?”
“I’m fine,” Mom says, sounding exhausted.
“She’s not fine. She nearly killed herself,” Jansen gripes.
“What did you do?” White comes in asking, his oldest son in tow.
“I didn’t do anything,” Mom insists. “Geez Louise, car accidents happen, people.”
“Yeah, they do, but not because you’re trying to teach—”
“Jan, stop,” Mom interrupts.
“What in the hell were you thinking, Lovey? You could have been killed,” he barks, and that’s when I realize I was right. He’s pissed. Really pissed.
Jansen has been in our family for a really long time. He became my dad. Orville cared about us, but he did so mostly from a distance. Jansen was a hands-on father, and we never questioned his love. He also wasn’t the kind of man to get mad. Mom always calls him a silent force. Which means that if he goes silent, he’s stewing on stuff, and he’ll let you know in his own time what is wrong. He’s definitely not being silent right now.
“What’s Jansen talking about?” Cyan asks, as he and Mary come in.
“Hail, hail the gang’s all here,” Mom grumbles.
“She was trying to teach a damn chicken how to drive,” Jansen growls.
“What?!?!” I’m pretty sure all of us say that one word at the same time.