He stopped to ask where his dad was at the nurse’s station. She showed him to bed number three along the corridor, and she pulled back the curtain to let Blaise in.
Blaise held his breath.Fucking hell.
He couldn’t help it.
His dad lay in the bed, two legs in casts, and an arm in a cast too. His mom sitting on the other side of the bed looking stressed. His brother stood at the foot of the bed with shadows of tiredness under his eyes.
“Nothing serious, hey?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly at his mom.
“You came. Thank you.” His mom stood, shuffled down to the end of the bed, arms out to embrace him. Blaise hugged her back.
“What happened?”
“A car turned unexpectedly hitting your dad’s car.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me he’s broken both legs?”
“One’s just a fracture,” his brother piped up.
“And that makes it better, how?”
“Don’t get upset. I know it must be a shock. Your dad was in surgery last night. We’ve been here since the ambulance brought him in,” said his mom.
Blaise couldn’t believe it. “He’s lucky.”
“Very lucky.”
“How long will he be in hospital?”
“The doctor has promised me he will be home for Christmas.”
“I’ll sit with him. How about you two go home and get some rest.”
“I don’t know…” His mom looked worried.
“Mom, is he stable?”
She nodded. “They’re going to move him to high dependency soon.”
“When they’ve done that, promise me you’ll go home. Scott will take you.” He looked at his brother, who nodded in agreement.
His mom patted him on the shoulder. “I feel bad taking you away from Dusty.”
“She understands.” The words came out tightly.
Dusty was genuinely concerned for his dad, and him, but he remembered she was driving to Melbourne with a man he didn’t trust, and he was acutely aware of how things could end up changing because of it.
Aaron parked the ute in the empty car park of the mechanical store, an oversized shed, on the outskirts of Melbourne.
“Fuck.” Dusty could clearly see the closed sign as she peered through the windscreen. They had come all this way to save time, and now the shop was closed. She unbuckled her seatbelt, got out, and went to the door. She cupped her hands to look inside. There were no signs of anyone. In frustration, she banged on the door. This can’t be happening. She’d just endured nearly eight hours of traveling in the ute with Aaron with the hope of being able to turn back and go home, only to find they were going to have to wait until morning.
“Is anyone there?” called out Aaron.
Dusty blinked back tears of frustration, then turned to go back to the ute. “No.” Her shoulders slumped forward as she slid back inside.
She glanced at her phone. Minutes. They’d missed the closing time by minutes.
“It was all thanks to that bloody truck going slow,” grumbled Dusty. They’d gotten stuck behind a heavy truck just out of Ballarat, and unable to overtake safely, they’d slowed down, wasting valuable time.
