Blair and Nicholas left the house about ten AM on Monday morning, and I stayed behind to clean up and do a load of Nicholas’s laundry so I could fold it and have his clothes ready for next weekend.
A phone call interrupted me just as I was smoothing out a pair of his jeans.
“Blair?” I answered.
Her voice shook. “Tate, we were in an accident.”
My stomach sank. “What? Are you okay?”
“We’re in an ambulance. We were thirty minutes from home, and someone rear-ended us.” She took in a shuddering breath. “Nicholas is unconscious. He’s breathing, but I think maybe he has a concussion.”
“Oh my God.” The jeans fell from my hands.
“He was in his car seat, but his head snapped forward and hit something. I’m so scared.”
The room felt like it was spinning. Running out of the laundry area, I scrambled to locate my keys. “I’m getting in my car right now. What hospital are they taking him to?”
She didn’t immediately answer, and then I heard the muffled sound of her talking to someone.
“Lincoln Memorial,” she finally said.
“Try to breathe, Blair,” I said as I got into my truck. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You have to believe that.”
“I know. I’m just scared.” She exhaled. “Just get here.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. You want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“No. I need to pay attention to what’s happening.”
“Call me back if you need me.”
She sniffled. “Okay.”
My tears fell the moment I hung up with her. I could barely see through them.
I began to pray to a God I hoped was listening. I hadn’t asked Him for much in my life, always fended for myself. But I needed help right now because anything happening to that little boy was unthinkable.
“Please. Please, let my baby be okay. I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to be a good person, a good father.”
I had so much love for him in my heart, and I couldn’t imagine not giving it to him. He didn’t even know he had a dad who loved him.
The drive to the hospital was a blur, and I texted Blair the second I parked to ask where she was.
She told me they were in the pediatric ICU and instructed me to let them know I was his father; otherwise, they wouldn’t let me in.
When I finally made it to the room, the overhead lights practically blinded me. I struggled to see what was happening. Nicholas was surrounded by medical staff, and Blair stood at the head of the bed, looking panicked as I rushed to her side.
But when I looked down at my son, relief washed over me. His eyes were open, though not entirely focused.
“This is his dad,” Blair said to the doctor.
The doctor looked at me. “Nicholas’s vitals are good, and he’s stable. With small kids, there can be a loss of consciousness even in minor accidents. We’re going to keep him overnight for observation. It’s a good thing he was in a car seat.”
“Thank you so much for taking care of him,” I said, reaching for Blair’s hand.
After he left, I pulled in a full breath for the first time since I’d left the house.
I took Blair in my arms. “Are you okay?”
