Page 40 of Summer With You

14

Stay Calm

Celine

Parking in the hospital parking lot, my only concern was my little girl, who was falling asleep in the backseat. She watched me through bleary eyes as I swung open her door and helped her from the car.

“I’m so tired, Mommy,” she whispered, leaning on me. I frantically looked around the parking lot for Ace.

Where the fuck was he?

I placed a hand on my still cramping belly and prayed it would stop. I needed all my strength to be a good mother and take care of my child, not be crippled with cramps from stress.

It’s just Braxton Hicks. Just breathe.

I chanted that over and over in my head as I walked into the hospital, holding my battered child up as best as I could. I settled her in a chair in the waiting room before I hurried to the check-in counter, watching Summer from the corner of my eye.

She gazed around the room, leaning her head on the back of the chair, her eyes closing ever so slowly.

Fuck!

I gave all my attention to the nurse behind the counter, trying to find strength through the next wave of cramps that seized my body.

“How can I help you?” the young woman asked, looking me over. “Going into labor?” I shook my head and gritted my teeth as a strong pain settled in my stomach.

“My child was hurt at school. They told me to bring her here because of a head injury.” I pointed to Summer, whose eyes were closed, and I panicked. “Please, you have to help me,” I pleaded. “That’s my baby, and she was beaten up at school today,” I cried, feeling so impossibly helpless.

Ace caught my gaze as he ran into the room, Charlie following behind him. They rushed over to me. Ace rested a comforting hand on my back, and Charlie ran over to Summer, nudging her repeatedly until she opened her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Ace whispered to me, looking down at the young nurse.

“I’m trying to get them to help Summer.” I felt the familiar burn of emotion form in my throat at the helplessness I felt watching my daughter.

“Ma’am, please fill these out, and then we can bring her back into a triage room.” She handed me a clipboard with a big stack of papers and a pen.

“But she’s falling asleep in the chair from a concussion. Isn’t that bad?” I asked. I felt helpless. I didn’t know what to do.

“Well, we don’t know that for sure. Just fill out the paperwork. Unfortunately, I can’t bring her into a room until you do.” She looked at me over the rim of her obnoxious, clear glasses, pushing the clipboard at me.

“Can’t or won’t?” Ace interjected, putting his hand over mine, stopping me from accepting the heavy clipboard.

“It’s hospital policy that new patients fill out the paperwork,” the nurse replied thrusting the clipboard at us again. “I suggest you hurry if she really does have a concussion.” She sneered, turning her attention to the next person in line.

“Our child could die sitting in your waiting room!” I screamed, throwing the clipboard at her. Ace stiffened next to me, his body tense as he glanced at our children. “Why can’t you let someone look at her while I fill out your fucking paperwork!”

“Celine, no stress,” Ace ordered. “Breathe. I’ll sort this out.” Ace nudged me behind him as he glared down at the angry nurse. I stole a look around the silent waiting room. Everyone was watching us except for my kids. Charlie was busy poking his sister to keep her awake, and Summer’s eyes kept fluttering closed all the while she sunk further and further into the chair.

“She’s passing out, Ace. Oh, my God! Someone, help me, please!” I rushed across the big room to her slumping form and caught her just before she fell to the ground. Cradling her body to my chest, I cried, “Help me, please!”

“Ma’am, give her to me. Let me look at her. It’s going to be okay.” A quiet, authoritative voice broke through my panic. A middle-aged woman in pink scrubs was crouched next to me, her arms extended to us.

I searched the room for Ace, who was fighting with the nurse, pointing at us frantically. I slowly handed my little girl to the woman who smiled encouragingly at me.

“Can you tell me what happened?” She gently laid Summer on the floor, checking her vitals.

“Some kid tackled her at school, and the nurse said she had a concussion and would need stitches. She was bleeding, but they put ice on it,” I cried, grasping Summer’s limp hand in my own. My stomach tightened, the cramps intensifying.

Charlie wrapped his arms around my body and whimpered. “Is she dead?” I sucked in a sharp breath.

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