“Are you Lucy?” The lady said with a broad smile. “I’m Clare Warren, I spoke to you on the phone.”
“Nice to meet you,” Lucy replied, relieved that the nurse seemed genuinely friendly. “And thank you so much for the call. My dad can be stubborn sometimes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had insisted you didn’t call me at all.”
“Well,” the nurse laughed as she came around the counter. “He wasn’t very pleased when I said I was whether he liked it or not. He is out of surgery and is in a room upstairs. I’ll take you straight up to him.”
“Thank you,” Lucy said, following the nurse down the corridor to the elevators.
“He was really lucky,” Clare said as they rode up in the elevator together. “He was hit in the shoulder, but it was a through and through. The real issue was the second bullet that hit his hip. They have repaired the damage, but it will be a long road to recovery.”
Lucy sensed there was more the nurse wasn’t telling her.
“There is more, isn’t there?” Lucy asked as the elevator came to a stop. The nurse didn’t talk for a moment. Instead, she stepped off the elevator and held it for Lucy to get off too.
Lucy stepped off, stopped in front of Clare and looked at her expectantly. When the nurse’s eyes met hers, Lucy held her breath.
“The bullet shattered your father’s hip, but it also damaged some of the nerves,” she finally explained. “The doctors have done all they could, but we have no way of knowing just how much power he will regain. He could make a full recovery, or he could be left with limited movement.”
“Does he know this?” Lucy asked.
“He has been told,” Clare sighed. “But he is, well, I don’t know how much he is taking in. When we told him and suggested we ask you to come, all he was worried about was not being a burden to you, that you didn’t feel like you had no choice but to come back. He didn’t seem that interested in his recovery. You were all he was worried about.”
“Yeah,” Lucy sighed, as a tiny stab of guilt ran through her body. “Sounds like Dad alright. So, he doesn’t know I’m coming.”
“No,” Clare confirmed. “He is still out from the anaesthetic, but you can sit with him if you like.”
“Yes please,” Lucy replied.
The nurse led Lucy to her father’s room. She stepped through the door and her heart tightened to see her dad lying there with drips and wires attached to him, wearing an oxygen mask.
“It looks worse than it is,” Clare explained. “Most of the machines are just for precaution.”
“Okay,” Lucy nodded as she stepped closer to the bed.
“I will leave you two alone,” Clare said as softly touched Lucy’s arm and smiled. Lucy held her breath and tensed at the simple touch from this kindly woman in front of her. She couldn’t bear to be touched by anyone. The only exceptions to this rule were her father and her assistant, Alison.
It took Lucy a long time to get used to Alison’s touchy-feely nature, but little by little she got past her fears. She took slow, steady breaths and forced a smile on her face.
You can do this; you can do this! She chanted in her mind, over and over. Lucy breathed a sigh of relief when Clare walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her father.
Lucy walked to the chair beside the bed and sat down. She reached out and carefully put her hand into her fathers.
“Hey, Dad,” she whispered as suddenly her eyes glazed over with unshed tears. “I’m here.”
She quickly brushed the tears from her eyes, squeezing his hand a little firmer, but her dad didn’t respond. So she sat quietly and watched him sleep, as his chest rose and fell with each breath.
She wasn’t sure how long she was sitting there, but eventually her eyes grew heavier. She lay her head down on the side of the bed and pressed her cheek to the back of her father’s hand.
“I love you, Dad,” she whispered softly. “I’m sorry I waited until now to come home to you.”
Lucy closed her eyes and listened to his gentle breathing. She didn’t know why, but she always found listening to him sleeping, very calming. She suddenly felt exhausted and slowly she could feel herself drifting off.
Lucy woke suddenly, for a moment, she had no idea where she was. She froze when she felt someone move next to her, but the moment she heard her father’s croaky voice, she remembered exactly where she was and why she was here.
“Hey,” she said as she turned to him, smiling as she brushed back her hair from her face. “You’re awake. I must have drifted off, I’m sorry. How are you feeling?”
“Like I have been run over by a steamroller,” he groaned as he took her hand and held it tighter. “But I’ll be okay. You shouldn’t have come.”
“Of course, I was going to come,” Lucy sighed, as she reached for his hand. “You’re my dad, and you are hurt.”
“But I know how hard it is for you to be here,” he said as he squeezed her hand. Even in the dim early morning light, Lucy could see how tired her father looked.
“I’m okay, Dad,” she said, forcing a smile. “It was a long time ago now. I need to get over it.”
“Just promise me you will be careful,” her father said, and Lucy could see the worry in his eyes.
“I’ll be just fine,” she replied as she placed her other hand over his hand. “Now tell me, how did this happen?”
“I was in the bank,” Tom began with a sigh. “And this dumb kid came in waving a gun around the damn place. There were women with little ones in there. I had to do something.”
“Of course, you did,” Lucy sighed, knowing exactly what her father was like.
“I nearly had the kid talked down too,” he continued angrily. “When some stupid rent-a-cop security guard pulled his gun. The kid panicked and began shooting.”
“Oh God!” Lucy exclaimed as she closed her eyes and thanked God for not letting her father die.
“He was just a kid,” her father continued. “No more than sixteen. The security guard killed him.”
“He died!” Lucy exclaimed.
“I could have talked him down,” her father said, and Lucy could see the sadness in his eyes.
“You tried your best, Dad,” Lucy said, giving her dad a reassuring smile. “You can’t save them all.”
“And that’s something I know all too well,” he sighed, regretfully. “Now tell me, how are you doing?”
“I’m good,” Lucy said with a smile. “Business is good, busy.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Tom quickly replied.
“I know what you meant, Dad,” Lucy sighed. “And I promise, I am fine.”
“Are you going to stay at the hotel?” Tom asked, surprising his daughter.
“No!” She replied, confused why he would even suggest this. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because it would be safer,” Tom explained. “There will be more people around.”
“Dad, I live in New York,” Lucy laughed. “I know how to look after myself. Now please, stop worrying.”