Page 90 of Unbossly Manners

We were in a hospital waiting room. Nellie and Bee were consulting a nurse behind the desk, Selena on her phone.

Nellie and Bee had shown up in the tent shortly after we got the news. Nellie had gone into firefighter mode. He was able to obtain more specific information—Jackson had a head injury and had not been conscious when they took him to the ER—and drove us to the hospital.

We’d all texted and called Kat dozens of times, but she hadn’t picked up her phone.

Nellie sat next to me. He checked my pulse and made me look him in the eyes.

“I think the shock has worn off. How are you feeling?”

“Any updates?” I asked, ignoring his question. I wasn’t the one who had been carted off to the ER on account of a bashed in head.

He had a helmet. How did this happen??

“He’s stable, which is good.”

Goosebumps erupted all over my flesh, relief snaking through my veins in a cooling rush.

“So he’ll be okay?” I asked, hiccupping out a sob.

“It looks good, but head injuries can be fickle.”

“How are you?” Bee eyed me with concern.

“Better.” I steadied myself. “A little embarrassed. I don’t know why I reacted like that.”

The pink shoes flashed before my eyes. The dismembered shoes. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

“You thought your friend died. I think you reacted just right,” Bee said, a sympathetic smile on her face.

She didn’t look great either, all pale and clammy. I scanned our group—Bee, Selena, Nellie—we were haggard. The smell of dry sweat lingered, everyone’s hair was a greasy mess, clothes covered in dirt and grease, dark circles under the eyes.

“I’m sorry I was a burden,” I said. This was hard on all of us. I was not alone in my pain, but for some reason that didn’t comfort me.

“You weren’t,” Nellie said. “I’ve seen way worse reactions to traumatic events.”

“Still…” My eyes watered again and I turned away.

A nurse motioned to Nellie and he hurried over while we leaned forward in our chairs, anticipating the news being reported to him.

When he returned, he lifted his phone where he’d taken notes. “That was the head nurse. She showed me his chart. Jackson hit his head on the frontal bone near his temple, broke two ribs, and bruised his wrist. There was a lot of blood, as you saw at the scene, but head injuries tend to be messy. He suffered a concussion, his CT scan showed minor swelling but no bleeding. They admitted him and they’re doing a few more tests, but he should recover fully.”

“Not fatal?” I asked, needing to hear it again.

“Nope. He’ll be out in a few days.”

“Can we see him?” Selena asked, her eyes bloodshot, her hand a permanent fixture in mine.

“The doctor is with him now. Kat’s there, too. She rode with him in the ambulance.”

“Thank god.” I collapsed against the back of the chair, exhaustion hitting me as the adrenaline seeped out. “Is the other rider okay?”

“The EMT said he walked away from the accident with some minor scrapes.”

“No fatalities?” I clarified.

“I’m guessing Jackson being carted away unconscious on a gurney is what sparked that rumor.”

A moment later, another nurse came out of the swinging doors. “You can visit him one at a time, but only for a few minutes. We don’t want to wear him out.”

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