Page 18 of Ms. Lead

“His international contact listed on his paperwork is Normandy Carmichael, so I can’t tell you anything, unfortunately. Sorry, hon.”

If she calls me ‘hon’ one more time, I will lose my shit in this lobby. I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something mean.

Taking a deep breath, I say, “Have you been able to reach Normandy?” I whip out my phone and pull up her contact information immediately.

She rereads the computer monitor. “All it says is she was notified. Whether that was a conversation or a message, I couldn’t say.”

Shit. Normandy needs to be here. Now.

“Thanks,” I mutter, and step away to dial Normandy. It goes to voicemail, so I hang up and dial again. This time she answers.

“Hey, Bianca, what’s up?” She sounds completely normal and oblivious to what’s happening.

“I’m at the hospital. Oliver was just brought here, but they won’t tell me anything. Connor told me he fell and hit his head pretty badly. You’re listed as his contact here. They said they notified you. Didn’t you get it?” I take a deep breath since I just rushed all of that out. I shouldn’t be this upset, but I can’t help it.

“I’ve been outside swimming with Ava. I just heard my phone now. What do you need me to do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how any of this works. I just need to know that he’s okay.” The urgency in my voice has to come through because Normandy snaps into action.

“I’ll call them and get what information I can, and then I’ll call you back. In the meantime, I’ll pull Ava and me together to head to the hospital. Is it St. Rose’s?”

“Yes. And, thank you, Normandy.”

“No problem. Sit tight. I’ll call you back in a little bit.”

I sit in the waiting room to bide my time until she calls back. It’s pretty crowded, I think, for an early Saturday afternoon. It seems like a lot of groups of families, and they’re all captivated by the talk show on the room’s TV, showing someone getting the results of a paternity test or something. I don’t know. My attention is elsewhere right now. I don’t think I could pay attention to anything at the moment if I had to.

A few minutes later, Normandy calls back. “So, they didn’t tell me much. He tripped and fell, and since he hit his head, there was a lot of blood, but it’s not serious, and they’re just watching for a concussion.”

The air rushes out of my lungs again as I sigh in relief. I thought the worst when Connor said there was a lot of blood and a head injury.

“Are they going to let me see him?”

“I didn’t ask that. I’m sorry I didn’t even think about it. Ava and I will be there soon. Just sit tight.” That is so much easier said than done.

After the longest thirty minutes I’ve ever waited through, I hear, “Aunt B!” and see little Ava running straight toward me with her arms out wide. I grin when she practically slams into me for a big bear hug. Normandy isn’t too far behind.

“Hey, sorry it took so long to get here.” She sounds out of breath as though they ran. “Little Miss Ava was anxious to see her Aunt B and check on how Mr. ‘Belly?’ Is doing?” She scrunches her face at the name, but Ava and I laugh. We know what’s up with that name. “I assume that’s Oliver?”

I nod and smile at Ava. “It is.” Something in me snags at the thought of him and Ava having that little connection.

“I’m going to see if they’ll let me back for a visit and see if we can’t get you in to see him, too. Can Ava stay with you for a few minutes?”

“Of course. Thanks, Normandy.”

Eyeing me carefully, she asks, “Is something happening between you and Mr. Belly? I mean, Bellamy, that I should know about?”

“Happening?” I'm so surprised I barely get the words out, but I can’t hide the blush I can feel spreading on my face. Normandy is known for her keen ability to read people; I guess I’m no exception.

She sighs with a small laugh. “It’s not a big deal if there is. I’ve given up trying to stop employees from getting involved with one another or with clients. Mischief has apparently become a matchmaking company on the side.”

I lower my head, now trying to hide my disappointment in the lack of something happening between us.

“Well…” Words escape me.

Ruffling Ava’s hair, she nods and says, “Say no more. I got you,” and leaves. I pull a few books out of Ava’s backpack and settle in to read while we wait. I’m grateful for the distraction, though I read to her with one eye on the door to the main hospital for any sight of Normandy returning with good news. News that I can see Oliver and confirm that he’s really okay. I need to see that for myself, or I’ll go crazy.

Thinking of things that are crazy, I’m reminded of my brother’s phone call out of the blue again right before Connor called me to tell me about Oliver’s accident. Did Enzo get another one of his weird ‘feelings’ that something was wrong? He’s been doing stuff like that a lot lately, and while I didn’t use to believe in it, I might now be a convert-in-the-making.

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