Page 85 of Since We're Here
He’s quiet and I shove my fist against my mouth to keep the scream in my throat from escaping. I bite down on my knuckles until it stings.
“She wasn’t conscious at that moment,” he finally says. “Her helmet slipped, and she hit her head on a rock.”
It’s my fault. I should’ve bought her a new helmet. I knew the one she used on our bike ride was too big. Yet I still left it for her. I will never forgive myself for this. Not ever.
“She’s at Dingle Regional?” I’m not sure I even ask the question out loud, but Ian answers.
“Yes.”
“Call me if you hear anything more.” I end the call without waiting for an answer and dash out the door, swiping my keys and nothing else, all worries about the brewery and the pub suddenly insignificant.
None of it matters because Maddie was in an accident, and she’s in the hospital.
My car doesn’t move fast enough. My stomach turns over and over.
What if she... if she was okay, wouldn’t Ian’s ex have told him? If shewasn’tokay, would she have told him?
Panic threatens to take over my body and I force myself to breathe deeply as I navigate through Dingle. The hospital isn’t far from the center of town, so they would’ve been able to get her there fast.
I scream into the empty car. I haven’t felt this out of control... ever. Not when I found out Cara was cheating on me. Not even when I found out about Dad’s stroke.
Black spots linger on the edge of my vision. Saoirse had called me that day. Dad had been at the brewery. Sean was with him and called Mam after he’d called the ambulance. They were all there when I arrived at the hospital.
That drive from O’Brien’s to Dingle Regional had been torture, but at least then I knew Dad was conscious and talking to my family. I knewsomething.
I pull into the emergency room parking lot and try to dash inside, but my legs are heavy and it feels like I’m in a nightmare, trying to run but hardly moving.
All that matters is Maddie. I need to see her.
“Patrick McNulty?”a doctor calls into the waiting room. I spring up, ignoring the pulsing in my head.
“Is she okay?” I wring my hands together and rush to the doctor. He nods his head to follow him, and I do.
“She’s going to be fine,” he says as he ducks into a dark room, flicking on a switch and instantly blinding me with bright white lights. “She’s awake and asking for you.”
Profound relief washes over me, and I close my eyes for a beat to let the adrenaline in my veins slow.
It doesn’t.
“She wasn’t conscious when they picked her up but woke up soon after. She’s got a mild concussion from hitting her head on a boulder on the side of the road. Her helmet slipped. It saved her from a worse head injury, but she still made contact. She’s also got some broken skin and concrete rash from sliding on the asphalt.”
Some of the relief fades away. That all sounds awful.
“What happened?”
“Apparently, she swerved to avoid a flock of sheep that was blocking the road.”
My jaw drops open.
“Jaysus.”
“She shouldn’t have been riding a bike in these conditions, but tourists always do this. Take risks.”
I flinch at him calling her a tourist.
“She really shouldn’t be alone for more than a couple of hours for a few days. Are you her...” He leaves the question dangling.
WhatamI to her?
