Page 35 of Asher's Answer
Swallowing, I can only nod because I don’t want to argue with him about my fears. Not when the bigger issue is whether the man I love is going to be okay or not. Suddenly, with that thought, I can’t be here any longer. I need to be where Charlie is, even if he’s not conscious. “Can we go to the hospital?”
When Josh nods, I turn back to Ted. I’ve never taken him up on his offer to stand in for Charlie when he’s not able to be there for me -not without Charlie arranging it himself- but I don’t think I can do this alone. “Will you come, too?”
Ted has babysat me, for lack of a better term, on evenings where Charlie’s worked late, and has been around the house a lot. Daddy’s been trying to coax me into calling the other man ‘Uncle Ted’, but in the office that just feels weird. Still, if there’s anyone I can rely on to be a caregiver in Charlie’s absence, it’s Ted, and I know Charlie trusts him, too. The fact that I know this makes it easier. There’s no sexual or romantic aspect in our interactions, just pure comfort, and I need that now more than ever.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, little one,” he tells me, kissing the top of my head. “It’s going to be okay.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“For my sake,” he confesses, and I feel selfish because he cares about Charlie, too, “I have to believe it.”
* * *
At the hospital, Josh’s uniformed presence helps get us moved straight back into the private waiting room for families of ED patients awaiting news. He strides in first and I watch as he’s swarmed by the other four people already in the room, enveloped into an emotional group hug.
There’s an older man who looks so much like him and Charlie that it takes my breath away, and a short, curvy woman with riotous dark curly hair who must be their mom. The younger woman’s hair is straight and platinum blonde. She’s a bit shorter than Josh and reed thin. I assume she’s Maisy. She doesn’t look much older than Josh, and she has the same nose as her brothers, and shares the same blue color eyes as Charlie and their dad. Then there’s the younger guy, who must be Axel. He looks more like their mother than the others, shorter and stockier, his hair curly like hers.
I stand back, pressed up against Ted, my insecurities getting the better of me until Josh and Charlie’s mom looks over and gasps.
“You must be Ash,” she declares, already pulling away from the group to tug me into a hug. The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder. She’s soft and warm and her hug makes my breathing hitch. My mom died when I was four, so I don’t really remember this sort of maternal affection, but I love it.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she reaches up and brushes back my curls which are getting a bit long, “I’m sorry we had to meet this way. You’re just the sweetest thing, aren’t you?”
“Mom,” Josh warns, but she waves him off, takes me by the hand and tugs me towards the rest of the family. Over her shoulder, she glances back at Ted, “Come on, Theodore; you too.”
I want to laugh, because it’s not often I see Ted get bossed around by anyone, let alone a short, matronly woman.
“I’m Marie,” she introduces herself, then points to her husband, “and this is Grant. These are Charlie’s sister and brother, Maisy and Axel. I’ve heard you know Josh.”
I nod at everyone in turn. “Yes, ma’am.”
“None of that. It’s Marie or Mom,” she insists, and I can definitely see where Charlie gets his take charge, hold-no-prisoners attitude from. The same one that saw him inviting me to live with him almost instantly. I think I love this woman already just for that reason alone.
“Okay,” I answer, not using either name because I’m not ready yet.
“Let the poor boy breathe, Marie,” Grant chides, but his tone is full of affection. Everything about this family radiates support and warmth and it settles my nerves about meeting them.
There’s a knock at the door and we turn as a group to see a blonde cop, his uniform stained and rumpled, hovering at the threshold. Josh stomps over to him and wraps his arms around him. I blink. I don’t hear the murmured words they exchange, but there’s a lot of manly back thumping as they part.
Josh gestures between the group and the other cop. “Everyone, Max Dalton. Max, everyone.”
Max. Charlie’s partner. My eyes zero in on the stains on his shirt and pants. That’s Charlie’s blood, I’m betting. I feel woozy.
“Down he goes,” Ted says, catching me as my knees buckle.
“Sorry,” I feel my cheeks burn as he eases me into a chair. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. “I just…blood…” I swallow back bile.
“Shit,” Max curses, looking down at himself. He looks over at me, genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t think. The paramedics let me go, I had to give my statement and then I came straight here.” He looks across to Josh. “Any update?”
Josh shakes his head. “Not yet. I only just got here.”
Max sinks into a chair by the door. And then we all wait. Marie peppers me with questions and I can tell it’s partially to distract us from the not knowing, but also because she really is excited to meet me, even if the circumstances aren’t ideal. They’re not difficult questions -stuff like whether I enjoy work, my favorite foods, where I grew up- and they help keep me from breaking down. When a doctor enters the room, though, we all fall silent.
“You’re here for Charlie Walker?” the man asks, taking in the assembled group. We all nod.
“Okay, he’s out of surgery, it went well,” there’s a collective sigh of relief, and Marie and I both sob a little, clutching each other’s hands, “and he’s awake, but heavily medicated.” He looks over us all and frowns. “I’m afraid we can only let two visitors in for now, and he’ll need rest.”
“You go,” I tell his mother, “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
