When he stepped up to the desk, he read the woman’s name tag, Zeta. He’d spoken to Zeta on the phone filling inTabitha’s insurance information and also giving release information. “Hi, I’m Deacon St. Clai?—”
“Tabitha is in trauma bay ten. Through those doors straight down the hall to the end and to the left.”
“Thank you, Zeta. Thank you.”
He was happy she didn’t hold him up with any paperwork or formalities. He rushed to where she’d pointed and heard a high-pitched buzzing and the dull, hollow clatter of a gurney being wheeled somewhere in the distance. Without pausing, Deacon pushed the double doors open so hard they rebounded off the stops, and he stepped into the main arena of the emergency room.
The air was thick with an industrial sharpness, alcohol, and antiseptic and underlying notes of something metallic. The lighting was aggressively bright and revealed every chipped tile and faded poster about hand-washing. He could barely process the layers of sounds, each one piling on top of the last until it became a manic orchestra. Intercoms clicked on and off with bursts of static, bellowing for respiratory therapists and a code blue. Monitors chirped and screamed in arrhythmic patterns, some so shrill they made his teeth ache. He flinched at the yelp of a toddler, saw a flash of a bloody towel clamped over a boy’s eyebrow, and caught a glimpse of a red-haired nurse in Crocs sprinting toward a room where a woman was shouting, “He can’t breathe!”
He hurried past a cluster of EMTs, all hunched around a pale, unconscious man, one of them pounding furiously on his chest while the others barked numbers at a nurse scribbling on a clipboard. An old man in a Cubs hat moaned softly, clutching his side and rocking on a plastic chair like he was trying to comfort himself. Deacon’s body moved on autopilot, his mind was a different story. Every step toward trauma bay ten, his heart rate shot up, thepulse in his throat throbbing so loud he thought he might pass out. He read each sign and room number twice, afraid he’d miss her.
The physical chaos was nothing compared to the psychological turbulence. Every parent there was barely holding it together. Every patient looked betrayed by their own bodies. It was nothing like the side of the hospital Deacon knew that Tabby was used to spending time in to get routine tests done and going to appointments. ERs were a totally different monster. She was probably terrified besides being in so much pain.
He made it to the end of the hall and turned left. Around the corner, he stopped short at what he saw through the clear glass viewing window of the trauma bay. His daughter was in the hospital bed wearing a tiara and a ninja mask with flowers on it along with her hospital gown. Jenna was curled up beside her, in bed, reading Charlotte’s Web, her newest favorite book, and Blake sat beside the bed drawing on her cast.
She not only looked fine, she lookedhappy, well taken care of…loved. Deacon felt himself tearing up as he walked into the room. “I heard there was a Princess Ninja Flower in here.”
“Daddy!” Tabby’s face lit up when she saw him and both Blake and Jenna stood.
He crossed to his daughter and pulled her into his arms, never wanting to let her go. After a few seconds she started to squirm. “Daddy, you’re squeezing me too tight.”
“Sorry.” He stood back up, wiping beneath his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he sniffed back the emotion threatening to pour down his face.
“Look! Blake’s friend Noah made it for me!” Tabby sat up straighter in her bed, straining her neck as high as shecould to show off her ninja/princess headwear. “I really am Princess Ninja Flower!”
“I see that, your highness.” Deacon bowed and wondered why he’d never thought about doing that before.
Tabby giggled. “If I’m a princess, then you’re a king, you don’t have to bow.”
“Rocco is the king, there can’t be two kings in one house.” He smiled and then looked at Jenna, who had moved and was standing beside Blake. “That’s awesome, tell Noah it’s great, and thank you both, so much. I can’t thank you enough?—”
“Okay, do I have a Miss Tabitha Princess Ninja Flower St. Claire in this room?” A nurse entered, her demeanor bubbly and chirping.
“Me!” Tabby lifted her good arm. “It’s me!”
“I need to take some vitals, if that’s okay.” The nurse looked at Deacon.
Tabby nodded her head emphatically, and Deacon moved to the side so the nurse could do her job. He turned his attention back to Jenna and Blake to continue expressing his gratitude when he noticed Blake’s eyes were filled with tears. “What’s wrong? Are you?—”
“I’m so sorry.” Blake’s voice was barely above a whisper as words fell from her mouth faster than white waters ran in the rapids in one of the longest run-on sentences he’d ever heard without taking a breath. “We were playing pop star, and she wanted to put on a performance for me, she told to go out of the room and count to ten and then come back in, so I counted to ten, but then she said that she’d call me when she was ready and I just thought she was putting on a different outfit or something, I didn’t know she was going to get on the kitchen island, when she called me and I came in and sawher I told her to get down and when she tried to she slipped on her water and?—"
“Hey, hey, hey, breathe, it’s not your fault.” Deacon rushed to reassure her. “Kids fall. They hurt themselves. It happens. You didn’t doanythingwrong. Look at her.” Deacon motioned behind them where Tabitha was talking a mile a minute to the nurse, explaining the royal lineage of herself and King Rocco. “Tabby’s great. Accidents happen. You acted responsibly and got her help. I trust you with hermorenow.”
Blake’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes were wide, still filled with tears. “Really?”
“Absolutely. You did amazing. She’s fine. She’s better than fine.”
“It was Mom, not me.”
“Well, who called your mom?”
“I did.” Blake took in a shaky breath and wiped the tears from her cheek. He could see how much it had weighed on her, and he felt horrible.
“You were great. She’s fine. You can’t watch kids every second. Accidents happen.”
Blake nodded as her phone buzzed. She looked down at it, then up to her mom. “Noah’s back.”
Jenna nodded to her daughter, then looked up at Deacon. “I’m gonna go walk her out. I’ll be back.”
