I stared at him. He met my eyes. Something in his expression shifted: a slight raise of his eyebrows, a barely perceptible nod as if to say“Just go with it.”
I didn't understand. I should have corrected him, but my head was pounding, and arguing felt like too much work.
The nurse smiled, charmed. "Lucky girl." She tapped something on her tablet. "The doctor will be in shortly to go over the CT results."
When she was gone, I turned to him. "What are we doing?"
“You really didn’t have to come. I’ve already taken up enough of your day.” Shane shrugged, but there was something deliberate underneath the casual. "You want to sit here alone for six hours, or do you want to get home?"
"Six hours?" My stomach dropped. "I have to stay here for six hours?"
"At least. Standard protocol for head injuries with loss of consciousness. They'll want to monitor you, make sure there's no delayed bleeding or swelling." He said it matter-of-factly, like he'd explained this a hundred times before. He probably had. "The CT might be clear, but that doesn't mean you're out of the woods yet."
Six hours. It was close to 2:00 PM. I'd still be able to make it home around my usual time, but I needed to let Zoe know just in case they asked me to stay longer.
"I need to send a text," I said, reaching for my phone on the side table.
"Everything okay?"
"Just need to let my daughter know where I am."
Something flickered across his face, but he didn't say anything. He just leaned back in his chair and gave me space.
I typed out a message to Zoe.
Maya
Hey honey. I'm at the hospital. Bumped my head at school and they want to keep me for observation. Nothing serious, I promise. Stay with Millie tonight, do your homework, order pizza. I'll be home later. Love you.
I sent a similar message to Millie.Zoe's reply came a minute later.
Zoe
wtf mom?? are you ok???
Maya
I'm fine. Just a precaution. Don't worry.
Zoe
ok mom
That was as close to "I love you too" as I was going to get, so I set the phone down.
When I looked up, Shane was watching me.
"How old is she?" Shane asked. "Your daughter."
"Thirteen."
Most people, when they found out I had a teenage daughter, did the math. I could see it behind their eyes, the calculation, the judgment. Shane just looked at me like he'd filed the information away without weighing it.
"Thirteen's a fun age," he said.
"Zoe thinks I'm embarrassing."
"Then you're doing something right."
