Page 263 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set
A woman in green scrubs interrupts us. “Mrs. Marsh?”
Mom and I both turn.
The woman smiles. “Grady’s back from the MRI. He’d like you to sit with him.”
Mom turns, but I stop her. “I’ll go.”
I walk with the woman until we’re out of Chance’s earshot. “I’m Avery Marsh, Grady’s mother. How is he?”
“I’m Dr. Park,” the woman says. “I’m the ER resident on your son’s case. We’re waiting for his MRI results, but unless there’s a brain bleed—which is unlikely, given Grady’s symptoms—he’s going to be just fine after a few days of rest.”
Relief courses through me, but I’m in full-on mother mode and won’t be happy until I see Grady. And hug him. “Can I take him home? After we get the results?”
“We’d like to keep him overnight for observation. Any time a patient loses consciousness with a concussion, we like to be extra careful.” She smiles. “But that’s no reason to worry.”
We’re walking through the ER, whisking by the curtained-off areas.
“I’m his mother. I’m going to worry.”
Dr. Park smiles again. “I know.” She pulls back the curtain to reveal a hospital bed…and Grady.
I rush to his bedside. “Sweetheart, are you all right?” I hold back tears at the sight of the stitched-up gash marring his handsome face. He’s still my sweet boy.
“I’m okay, Mom,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.” I take his hand and sit down on the edge of the gurney. “I’m not leaving your side.”
She frowns and glances down at our joined fingers. “I’m sorry. I know you hate the skateboard.”
I want to shake him for not listening to me, and now, after getting hurt, he tells me I was right all along. “For good reason.”
“You were very lucky,” Dr. Park says. “I’ve seen much nastier skateboard accidents.”
“Who hit you?” I demand. “I’ll sue the shit out of them.”
“It was an accident, Mom,” Grady says, yawning.
“We have the name and address of the young woman driving the car,” Dr. Park says. “She stopped immediately and helped Grady. She feels terrible, and the police cited her for reckless driving. But Grady admits he wasn’t watching where he was going.”
“Still—”
“She insisted on coming to the hospital and she stayed with him until your mother arrived,” Dr. Park continues.
The protective lioness in me wants to pummel her, but love and gratitude that my son is okay overrides it quickly. Accidents do happen, especially with reckless boys. And Grady is reckless. Testosterone and a fourteen-year-old boy can be a lethal combination.
“I’ll stay with him tonight,” I say.
“Mom…”
“Sorry, no negotiation.”
An orderly dressed in blue scrubs peeks in. “I’m here to move Grady to his room.”
“All right.” Dr. Park regards Grady sternly. “This is where we part ways. You listen to your doctors. And to your mother.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Grady says sleepily.
I hold tight to his hand as the orderly begins moving the hospital bed on wheels.
