“Stop talkin’,” I snapped. “You need to save your strength.”
“Ambo’s here,” Razor called from the hallway.
“You called an ambulance?” Maisie squeaked.
“I did, Mom,” Flash said.
“You really gonna give us hell about this, Sunshine?” I challenged just as the EMTs walked in.
She shook her head as she grimaced. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was in pain. I was trying to keep you focused.”
“By lying to me?” I bit out.
A strong hand landed on my shoulder and tugged me back.
“I’m done with this,” Flash hissed. “Outside.”
“Flash, leave it, baby. Daddy’s just scared,” Maisie whispered as the EMTs loaded her onto the gurney.
“You’re in pain, Mama, he cannot talk to you like that.”
I closed the distance between me and my son. “Look, I know you’re worried and scared, but right now I need you to handle the mob of members downstairs so I can take care of your mother. And to be clear, I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Just like I’m telling you to mind your fucking business about how I speak to the love of my life.”
Flash gave me a look every father of a grown son recognizes. It’s the same look we all gave our fathers at some point. It’s the look that conveys ‘I can take you, old man, and I’m just looking for a reason to throw the first punch.’ And who knows? Maybe the kid could take me, but this was certainly not the time or place to find out. Iknew deep inside he was concerned about his mother, and I honestly appreciated that he was protecting her, but Maisie and I had a shorthand that had developed over several decades. She knew what every single one of my curses meant and how to process them. Hell, she once informed me that I had seven distinct ways of saying the word fuck. For instance, looking everywhere for my reading glasses only to find them on the top of my head elicits a groaning fuck, while a civilian getting too close to my bike in public generates an ‘I’m going to light that guy on fire,’ kind of fuck. Fortunately for both of us, Flash simply grunted and went downstairs to brief the troops.
Once inside the ambulance, I squeezed Maisie’s hand tightly. “Don’t ever scare me like this again. If you’re in pain. Fuck, if you’re in slight discomfort, I need to know about it. Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay, love.”
The thought of losing this woman did my head in. She was my entire reason for being. She and the kids of course, but Maisie was first, and she was the one who rescued me from myself. Life without her would only be half a life, and half a life wasn’t worth living.
Hatch
ISTARED AT the double wide rack of get-well cards at the center of the hospital’s gift shop for what felt like an hour. Searching for the perfect one among the vast rows of printed watercolor sunsets, lilies on ponds, and portraits of Jesus that always looked more like Kenny Loggins to me. As if any mass-produced drivel could ever come close to conveying my feelings. As far as I knew, Hallmark never made a card that read, ‘I would set the fucking world on fire to make you well again.’ In the end, I settled on a card with apicture of a highland cow on it. Maisie loved‘Coos’as the Scottish called them, so I grabbed it along with a dozen roses, even though I knew she would yell at me later for paying almost seventy bucks for them.
Maisie was out of surgery and currently in recovery. I was anxiously killing time while I waited for her to be moved into her private room where she’d spend the night. Even though I knew the surgery was successful and all had gone well, my skull would be on fire until I had my arms around her. Maisie was more than just my wife. My old lady. She was the reason my heart kept time. She’d saved my life more times than I could count, and if there was a snowball’s chance in hell of me getting into heaven, it would be because of strings she’d pulled on my behalf. Her soul was the purest of anyone I’d ever known, and I was thankful every day that our kids were more like their mother than me. I couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect woman and was still amazed, all these years later that she put up with me and my bullshit.
As Razor and I stood in line, my phone buzzed. It was a text from the hospital letting me know that Maisie had been moved to her private room and was ready to receive visitors. The knot in my stomach finally loosened a bit and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I turned to him. “She’s in the private suites.Room 612. You head up there and stand guard while I pay for this. I’ll be right behind you.”
Razor did as I asked, and two minutes later I was heading for the elevator bay. I made my way up to the sixth floor where I ran into Maisie’s surgeon, Dr. Kroft in the hallway.
“Mr. Wallace,” she said cheerfully.
“How is she, Doc?” I asked, anxiously.
Dr. Kroft placed her hand on my arm. “She’s doing great. The surgery took a little longer than expected due to some unforeseen swelling. Her appendix was in pretty rough shape. Maisie must be pretty tough. Most people would have passed out from the kind of pain she would have been experiencing.”
“Tough doesn’t even begin to describe her, Doc.”
“Well, she’s in her room, resting comfortably. She’s still pretty foggy from the anesthesia and will probably drift in and out of sleep for the next few hours, but you’re free to go in and visit with her now. Just let the nurses know if you need anything at all.”
“Thank you for taking care of her.”
I then made my way past the nurse’s station, to room 612, to find Razor sitting in a chair directly outside Maisie’s door. I’d texted my kids to let them know she was good to see them, and they’d all said they were on their way. They weren’t happy with me for making them leaveher, but it wasn’t my call, the hospital had strict visit hours, and I’d forced them to go home and sleep.
“Any sign of the Spiders?” I asked.
