After two hours have passed, I can’t bear it any longer. I get up and head back to the desk.
“Excuse me,” I say.
There’s a different receptionist here now—a middle-aged woman with blonde curls and a name tag that readsSheila.
“Hey, honey,” she says in a soft southern twang. “What can I do for you?”
“I brought someone here a couple of hours ago. I just want to know if he’s okay.”
“What’s his name?”
“Clay.”
Sheila nods, typing something into her computer. “Clay Benson?”
I have no idea what his surname is, but I figure there’s only one Clay in this tiny hospital.
“Yeah, that’s him. Can I please go see him?”
Sheila looks at the clock, then back at me. “Only if you’re a spouse, partner or close family member. Those are the rules after five, honey.”
My heart sinks. I don’t think hitting someone with your car makes you any of those things, but I’m getting pretty desperate. If I’ve injured Clay by swerving like an idiot to avoid a squirrel, I’ll never forgive myself. I need to see him.
“I’m his partner,” I say, the lie coming fast. “His girlfriend.”
Sheila’s eyes narrow slightly, like she’s trying to solve a puzzle written on my face.
Does she know I’m lying?
Eventually, she asks, “Do we know each other, honey?”
Her question throws me. “Uh, no, I don’t think so.”
“Hm.” She considers me for a moment longer. “Give me a second, okay? I’ll call through and ask if your boyfriend’s ready for visitors.”
The word “boyfriend” makes my stomach jolt, and I stutter a little as I thank Sheila. She’s still looking at me as she picks up the phone and holds it to her ear, but before she can press any buttons, her eyes light up with recognition.
“Savannah! Bonnie Lawson’s granddaughter, right?”
I nod, totally unsurprised that this woman knows my grandma. “That’s me.”
“I have book club with Bonnie.”
“Oh, neat.” I force a smile, willing her to finish dialing so I can go see Clay.
“Ah, your grandma…” Sheila continues. “What a lady! Did you know she’s always trying to set you up? Every book club meeting starts with her asking if our sons or nephews are single!”
My cheeks burn. I want the floor to swallow me whole, but I force myself to smile.
“Yep, that definitely sounds like Grandma.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you found someone, honey.” Sheila finally starts to dial. “Hope he’s doing okay.”
At that moment, the double doors open to our left and Clay steps out.
“Oh, thank God,” I mutter, a warm wave of relief crashing over me.
I watch him approach, feeling a crazy urge to run up and throw my arms around him. His eyes are fixed on me, his usual scowl in place, but I don’t care how grumpy he looks.
