Page 64 of Finding Home with You

“What’s happened?” I ask, ignoring his gratitude.

“Ms. Connelly was in a car accident,” he says. “She was admitted about two hours ago. We have you as the emergency contact.”

“Is she okay?” I ask, my heart hammering in my chest so hard, I’m half expecting it to smash through my ribcage and splatter all over the windshield.

“She has a concussion and a broken arm, couple of cuts and bruises, but is otherwise okay,” he says and almost immediately I feel my hands relax a little as I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “We’d like to keep her in overnight,” he continues, somehow oblivious to what I’m going through. “Just so we can monitor both her and the baby, but otherwise, she’s going to be just fine.”

For a second, I’m not sure if I hear him correctly.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“We’re going to keep her in overnight,” he repeats. “But she’s going to be fine, full recovery,” he says as though this whole thing is no big deal at all.

“Baby?” I say, the word sounding strange as it falls from my mouth.

“Yes,” he says. “The baby is fine though, it’s just a precaution. Are you able to come in to the hospital?” he asks.

I glance at the sign I’m passing and indicate to turn off so I can head back to Boston. “I’m on my way,” I say numbly.

“Great, we’ll see you when you get here,” he says before hanging up the phone.

The silence in the car feels deafening as I head toward Mass General, my brain on autopilot as I somehow navigate the Boston traffic, a million different thoughts banging around inside my head. I have no idea what any of this means; whether what the doctor has just told me is real or what I’m supposed to do with this information.

Finally, I reach the hospital parking lot and I pull right into the front, grateful for the Boston PD plate that I throw on the dash so I can park here without getting a ticket. Slamming the door shut, I walk into the ER, oblivious to everything around me as I head directly to the triage nurse at the main desk.

“I’m looking for a patient,” I say. “She was brought in earlier, car accident.”

“Name?” she asks, without looking up.

“Erin Connelly,” I reply, scrubbing a shaking hand down my face.

I don’t know if it’s the way I say it or what, but I see the nurse glance up and give me a dirty look as she starts typing something in to her computer. I have no idea if she’s looking up Erin’s name or she’s updating her Facebook status, but she’s acting like whatever it is I’ve just asked her is the biggest pain in her ass today.

“You a relative?” she asks in a bored voice.

“Boyfriend,” I respond.

“So not the husband?” she asks, condescension in her voice.

“Also, detective,” I add, flashing my badge at her.

The nurse barely glances at it before saying, “She’s been admitted, third floor, you’ll need to go up there.”

I nod, not bothering to thank her as I head for the elevators, jamming my finger on the call button as my eyes flick between the stairwell and the light above the elevator, counting down the floors. Just like the triage nurse, the elevator is taking forever, seeming to hover somewhere around the fifth and sixth floors.

As I’m waiting, someone comes over, pushes the button for the elevator even though it’s clear I already have. I glance over, wondering why the hell they would think that could help. Just as I’m about to open my mouth however, I notice it’s a woman, a baby in her arms that she’s smiling down at it, oblivious to me and how I’m feeling.

It feels like a hard punch hits me square in the chest, knocking the wind out of me as I watch this stranger and her baby. I don’t know what it is that comes over me, but all I know is I need to see Erin, right now.

Glancing up, I see the elevator is still on the fifth floor, seemingly unaware of my sudden need to get up to her.

“Fuck it,” I breathe out, walking toward the stairwell and taking the stairs, two at a time, until I reach the third floor. I burst through the door, my lungs protesting as I head straight to the nurse’s station.

“I’m here to see Erin Connelly,” I practically shout.

“Are you her husband?” a young nurse asks as she looks up at me with a look of surprise.

I nod. “Yes,” I spit out, not bothering to correct her. “Please, just tell me where I can find her.”

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