Page 23 of One Year Ago in Spain
The skyscraper and the sunset. And the beam that cut straight through Matías.
Claire moaned and squeezed her eyes shut again.
“My colleague is calling for an ambulance,” the woman from reception said. She was kneeling next to Claire, holding her hand. The hand that had, until a few moments ago, contained Matías’s kiss but was now nothing more than an ordinary hand. “You hit your head when you fainted. Are you…How do you feel?”
I feel everything and nothing, all at once,Claire wanted to say. Matías was dead. All her fears since she’d received the phone call in her office—amplified by what she’d been through losing her parents—had come to a head now in the worst possible culmination. At the same time, she’d already wrung out all her emotions during the flight and the hospital visit and the time alone at the hotel. Somehow, there was nothing left inside her.
So Claire lay in the hotel driveway, numb. She opened hereyes and looked at the concern wrinkling the receptionist’s forehead but didn’t have the energy to respond to the woman’s query. Instead, she turned her head toward Matías’s ghost.
But he was gone.
“Wait…Come back!” The sharp knife of grief sliced through Claire’s numbness, and the force of it made her sit up.
“Señora, you must lie down!”
It was too late; Claire was already upright.
The receptionist said something in Spanish to another hotel employee nearby. He ran inside, then came back carrying one of the ottomans from the lobby lounge.
“If you will not lie down,” the receptionist said, “then let us help make you stable.”
The man set the ottoman behind Claire so she could lean against it while sitting in the driveway. “Please,” he said, making astay putgesture with both hands. “Do not move. The ambulance is almost here.”
Claire just stared at the space where Matías had been.
The paramedics arrived shortly, and they brought Claire inside the ambulance to examine her. As she sat on the narrow cot, they asked in English when she last ate, how much water or other liquid she’d drunk today, and whether she felt nauseous. She answered flatly—I don’t know, I don’t know, and I have felt nauseated ever since Aracely’s phone call about the accident.
There was already a bump forming in the back of her head where she’d hit the concrete, and they checked her eyes for signs of concussion. The medics asked if the light was bothering her.
“No, there was a ghost in the light, and I want him to come back.”
The paramedics didn’t know what to make of her answer.
“Señora,” one of them said. “I think you have a concussion. We would like to admit you to the hospital overnight for observation.”
“Hospital Universitario La Paz?” That’s where Matías was.
“No, we are associated with La Moraleja University Hospital—”
“Then no.No, gracias,” Claire said before the medic could finish. If it wasn’t Matías’s hospital, there was no way Claire would let the medics take her. Because if they checked her in as a patient, she would be stuck there. And she needed to get back to theotherhospital where Matías was…
Where Matías was dead.
The knife of grief stabbed her again, and Claire almost doubled over. But at the last instant, she held herself still and swallowed the pain. She had to keep herself together. It was imperative that she convince these paramedics that she was okay, that they release her from this ambulance.
“I feel fine,” she said with what she hoped was a winning smile, or at least a persuasive one. “I just need water and aspirin and some food; I’m sure I’m dehydrated from the flight, that’s all.”
The medics consulted each other in Spanish, stealing glances at her every other sentence. Claire kept smiling at them.
Finally, they came to a conclusion. The one who’d been talking to her grabbed a clipboard and a form, then filled out some information.
Dammit,Claire thought.They’re going to admit me to the hospital anyway.
“Okay, señora,” the medic said, coming over with the clipboard. “This document confirms that we recommended furthermedical care but that you declined. If that is correct and you still do not want to come to the hospital, then I need you to sign here.”
Claire stared at the form in all Spanish for a second. But then she realized the medic was giving her an out. “Gracias, I really appreciate it, you won’t be sorry, I promise I’ll drink lots of water and have a big dinner,” she rambled as she signed the document.
The medic tore off a carbon copy for her, then gave her two boxes of juice and some packages of crackers before helping her down from the ambulance.
