Page 141 of The Single Dad

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Riley

Cole and I break apart instantly at the sound of the loud wail, turning toward the sound on pure instinct. My heart lurches.

Archie is on the ground next to a tree, writhing and howling in pain. His face is red from crying, and there are tears on his cheeks, visible even from here.

Cole and I both start running without saying a word. Others rush toward Archie as well, a few parents operating on their impulses to help any hurt child.

When we reach Archie, Cole leans over him, kneeling beside him. There’s worry evident in his features, his frantic eyes and creased forehead. I remember how he was when Archie had the stomach bug, and realize that he must be panicking right now.

“Archie,” I say, kneeling on the other side of him. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

Archie can’t seem to speak—the wind is knocked out of him. He’s crying, and his sobs are taking up all of his air.

After a few seconds, he manages to talk in hiccuping gasps. “I—just wanted t-to hide in the t-tree like Justin and Brandon were d-doing—”

Justin and Brandon are two of the older, bigger kids. They would have a much easier time climbing trees than Archie. My heart twists in sympathy for the little boy, remembering how much he wanted to climb the trees this morning.

“How far did you fall?” I ask him.

“I dunno,” he sniffs. “M-my arm hurts.” He tries to move his arm to show me, but the action sends a wave of fresh tears cascading down his face.

“Let me take a look, okay? Just lie still.” I peer at Archie’s arm. From what I can see—elbow and down—his arm looks a bit swollen. I grimace, glancing at Cole.

“What’s wrong with him?” Cole demands.

“I think his arm might be broken,” I admit. “We should probably take him to an emergency room.”

The other kids have stopped their game and are gathered alongside their parents, their faces drawn and pale. All of the children who were up in trees have come back to the ground, looking nervous.

“It’s okay, guys,” I say to them, not wanting them to crowd Archie and make him more uncomfortable. “We’re gonna take him to a doctor and get him all fixed up.”

Cole’s face tightens. He scoops Archie up in his arms; the boy doesn’t stop crying as we hurry back to the car to drive to the hospital. He settles Archie into the backseat and buckles his seatbelt, since the boy can’t reach it himself.

Cole drives like a man possessed, his grip tight on the steering wheel and his eyes frenzied. Tension fills the car. Archie has stopped wailing, but he’s still sniffling, tears leaking from his eyes as he cradles his injured arm.

“You’re gonna be just fine, bud,” Cole says gently to him. Despite his reassuring words, I can practically see the tension radiating from him. He’s terrified.

My stomach twists with worry, and I grip the edge of the car seat, hoping for the best.

Chapter 44

Cole

On the way to the hospital, I almost rear end the car in front of me at least five times. New York City is full of sticky traffic that’s a nuisance at the best of times, and enraging at the worst.

My kid is hurt. Get out of my fucking way!

I do my best to keep my fear in check. The last thing we need is to get into an accident now, and laying on the horn might freak Archie out even more.

Finally, after what feels like years, I pull the car up to the emergency room’s glass doors. I rush out of the car and run to the passenger side, where Riley is already helping Archie out of his seat. He’s still crying, even after the entire drive.

We guide Archie inside. My hands are balled into shaking fists as we approach the receptionist’s desk; I feel like I’m about to lose it.

The nurse behind the desk takes one look at Archie and breaks into a kind, understanding smile. “Rough day?”

He nods, sniffing.

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