Page 12 of Engulfing Emma

“It is. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

“Can you just talk to me?” I ask. “Tell me something about yourself. About Leo. Or your wife. Anything to get my mind off this.”

“Well, let’s see. Leo is great. He recently became this little chatter box. He’s so curious about everything. He loves the park. And dogs. He loves dogs. But his nanny is allergic so we can’t have one. Sometimes I’ll take him to the dog park or the pet store so he can play with them.”

“I love dogs, too. But I don’t think it’s fair to leave them alone all day. It’s why I’ve never gotten one. So, Leo has a nanny? That must mean your wife works as well.”

“It’s just Leo and me,” he says.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

“It’s fine. I did the same thing with you. We recently divorced.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t really have a marriage for the last two years.”

“Two years? Isn’t that how old Leo is?”

“Yes. That’s when Amanda completely shut down and pulled away. She never really wanted to be a mom.”

“I love being a mom. I don’t know what I’d do without Evelyn. She’s away at camp for two weeks, and it’s killing me.”

“I love being a dad. I can’t imagine life without Leo.”

Carter moans, and I lean over to check on him, feeling his pulse and determining it’s about the same as before.

“How’s he doing?” Brett asks.

“Okay, I think.”

“Is the tourniquet still tight?”

I look and see very little new blood around the wound. “Yes. Listen, how long can this thing stay on him? I know we need it to stop the bleeding, but isn’t it stopping all blood circulation to his leg? That can’t be good.”

“It’s not good. We shouldn’t keep it on him longer than an hour, or we’ll risk ischemia.”

“Does that mean his leg coulddie?” I whisper so Carter can’t hear me.

“It’s possible. We’ll assess him closer to the hour mark. If he’s regained consciousness, we may try to remove the tourniquet for a few minutes to feed fresh blood to the lower leg. But let’s hope this doesn’t go on that long.”

I sigh. I can’t believe this is happening. It’s like a nightmare. “How did I get here?”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” he says. “That’s really what it boils down to.”

“I’d rather be anywhere else in the world.”

“I know you would. If you could be—where would you be? It can be anywhere.”

I close my eyes and think for a minute. “Myrtle Beach.”

He laughs. “Emma, I saidanywhere,and you pick a place you can get to in less than a day?”

“My aunt lives there. She has a house on the beach just north of the city. We would go there every summer for vacation. My mom and I haven’t visited since my dad died. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to return to a place that reminded us so much of him.”

“Tell me about him,” he says. “I mean, if it’s not too difficult.”

I settle against the wall and think of all the best parts of my dad—which was pretty mucheverypart. “He was amazing. He only worked a few twenty-four-hour shifts a week, and when he was home, he spent every minute of the day with me when my mom was at work. He took me ice skating in the winter, boating in the summer, and when I went to school, he walked me there, and he’d be waiting for me when I got out. I know it’s been a long time, and I’m probably only remembering the good parts, but he really was the best dad.”

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