“I’m sorry I didn’t bring you a coffee,” she said to Holly. “I didn’t realize?—”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Holly said quickly. “I’ve had about six already.”
Peter huffed a quiet laugh.
“How is Connor?” Vivien asked. “I know you said he’s okay, but…”
Peter’s expression softened instantly. “He’s incredibly lucky,” he said. “Really. I saw the accident report, and it could have been so much worse.”
“Thank God,” she said. “So you have details of how it happened?”
“Oh, please. Pete’s a cop,” Holly said, as if Vivien didn’t know that. “He gets all the inside info.”
“It’s not a lot more than what I told you, Viv,” he said, taking a sip of coffee.
As he did, Vivien couldn’t help but notice a flicker in Holly’s eyes—surprise that Vivien knew anything already? That she and Peter were in contact? That he called her “Viv”?
“Connor was driving back from the party when a pickup crossed the center line,” he added. “Connor swerved to avoid a head-on collision, but the truck clipped the side of his car. Sent him spinning off the road into a shallow ditch. The other driver wasn’t hurt, but they brought him here, treated him for scratches, and he was arrested on a DUI.”
Vivien winced.
“The airbags deployed,” Peter went on. “Paramedics said that probably saved him from something much worse. He was conscious when they got there, but disoriented. Kept asking the same questions over and over.”
Holly folded her arms tighter around herself, closing her eyes with a whimper. “I can’t stand that my baby went through that.”
Vivien gave a sympathetic nod. She’d be a hot holy mess if Lacey were laying in that room after being “clipped” on the highway by a drunk driver.
“What do the doctors say?” she asked.
“Moderate to severe concussion,” he said. “Broken clavicle. Fractured wrist. Painful, but nothing life-threatening. Because of the head injury—and the hour—they admitted him overnight and are monitoring for internal bleeding from the airbag or seatbelt, and any neurological changes.”
“So he’s stable?” Vivien asked quietly.
“Completely,” Peter said, relief unmistakable in his voice. “Awake earlier this morning. Pretty wiped out now from a load of heavy-duty painkillers.”
“He’s in dental school,” Holly volunteered—as if Vivien didn’t know that, either. “So when they want to give him anything, heasks a million questions and already knows the answers. He’s so smart.”
“Then we can be sure his wonderful brain is perfectly intact,” Vivien said.
Peter smiled at her, a glimpse of light in his eyes.
“I’m so relieved he’s going to be okay,” Vivien added.
“Okay, but not great,” Holly said. “It’s his right arm, which has to heal before he goes back to school and needs to work on patients. But I guess right is good, since he broke his left when he was nine.” She gazed up at Peter. “Remember that trip to the ER? Ugh. I was a wreck.Youwere a wreck!”
Vivien took a step back, the intimate memory and Holly’s rattling on making her suddenly feel out of place. She didn’t belong in this family scene, did she?
“Speaking of wrecks,” Holly continued, “I was a mess last night. When Pete called, I couldn’t leave Pensacola fast enough.”
“She got here about two hours after he was admitted,” Peter told Vivien. “We’ve been up all night.”
Vivien didn’t want to say they looked it, but she could certainly see the long night and stress had left shadows on their faces as they stood side by side, like…a couple. A couple that was united again by something bigger than old resentments.
“I can’t imagine the stress you’ve both been under,” Vivien said. “But I’m so relieved he’s going to be okay. Truly.”
“Thank you for coming,” Peter said. “It means a lot.”
“Of course.” She took another step backwards, sensing it was time to leave. “And if there’s anything I can do—anything the family can do—please don’t hesitate.”
