Reaching for one last cookie, Rachel was both relieved and startled when the hotel room phone rang. Odd that he wasn’t calling her cell though.
“Good evening, I’m calling from Mount Sinai Hospital,” a stranger’s voice intoned, and instantly, Rachel blanched.A hospital?“Do you happen to know a Mr. Gary Knowles?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied, her heart hammering. “Why? What’s happened?”
“I apologize for the nature of the call, but I’m afraid there’s been an accident,” the woman continued, her tone steady. “Mr. Knowles is in stable condition but hasn’t yet regained consciousness. We found his hotel key and called the front desk hoping to find next of kin.”
Next of kin?But that could only mean… “Oh my God.” Rachel could hardly speak. “Is he okay? I’m his girlfriend and—”
“He was hit by a cab, ma’am, but his injuries aren’t severe at this time,” the woman confirmed, and Rachel quickly exhaled the breath she’d be holding. “We expect him to regain consciousness soon, so feel free to come down and see him whenever you like. Your name, please?”
“Rachel, Rachel Conti. Yes, yes, of course, I’ll be right there.”
Changing her shoes to a pair of flats so she could get around faster and wrapping up in a warm coat, Rachel managed to make it to the hospital in under forty-five minutes—not bad for a cab ride on Christmas Eve.
It didn’t take her long to find directions to Gary’s room after she wrangled a nearby nurse to get all the details.
“He suffered a couple bruised ribs from the collision, plus a laceration to the head and subsequent concussion from the fall,” said the woman, reading from the chart. “Apparently some Good Samaritan stepped in and moved the crowd back, kept the wolves from carrying off his shopping too. Stuff’s right there,” she said, pointing to a pile of colored shopping bags on the chair beside the bed.
“Will he be okay?” Rachel asked nervously.
“He’ll be fine, but don’t expect him to come around till morning. He woke about half an hour before you got here, but we sedated him to keep him still and resting. Feel free to stay for a while, but you might as well take his stuff and head back to get some rest yourself. He’s not going anywhere for at least a couple of days, maybe three. Oh, and happy holidays,” the nurse finished, poking her head back around the curtain. Rachel barely raised a hand to acknowledge it as she leaned over Gary to gently kiss his forehead and stroke his arm.
“Bloody gobshite…” he mumbled almost imperceptibly.
The nurse poked her head around the curtain again. “He’s been mumbling stuff like that all evening. Any idea what it means?”
Rachel actually felt the hint of an unexpected smile. “Just an Irish expression.”
“Ah, I see,” the nurse said, nodding quickly as if this explained everything. “I guess I don’t blame the poor guy. Have a great evening.”
“Thanks. You too.”
Then Rachel turned back to Gary. She lifted his hand and held it in her own. “Poor baby, look at you…always pushing it,” she whispered, holding back tears as she moved to caress his forehead.
She sat there with him for an hour or so, trying to discern the extent of his injuries and wondering if there was anything the nurse hadn’t told her. Apart from the bruises and head wound, he seemed okay, though she would have much preferred him awake and able to speak to her.
Eventually, when there were no further signs of him stirring, Rachel decided to take the woman’s advice and head back to the hotel.
It was late, visiting hours were long over, and there wasn’t a whole lot she could do here, not when he was so heavily sedated. She gathered up his bags, deciding it was safer to take them back with her rather than leave them out in the open.
Just as she was leaving, an orderly met her with yet another bag, this one containing Gary’s clothes and other personal effects.
Heavily laden, Rachel turned to look at her injured beloved one more time. “Love you honey. Merry Christmas,” she whispered, pausing for a moment before leaving the hospital mere minutes before Christmas Eve gave way to Christmas Day.
“A little late to be finishing Christmas shopping, ain’t it, lady?” the cab driver joked as outside, Rachel piled in with all Gary’s bags and boxes.
“I wish,” she replied, her tone short, before giving him the hotel address. “If you could just take me to my hotel. Please,” she added then, somewhat gentler.
After all, it wasn’tthiscab driver’s fault that poor Gary’s Christmas was ruined.
Chapter 6
Back at the hotel, Rachel plopped down on the couch, letting the packages fall around her feet. She felt tired and defeated, and while she was sure Gary was in good hands, she couldn’t help but worry.
In addition, the twinkling Christmas lights from the streets glowing faintly through the window seemed to be mocking her now, and all Rachel could think about was the poor guy lying there in the hospital.
Should she call his mother? She bit her lip. Perhaps it was better to wait until morning when she’d spoken to the doctors and knew more. If she phoned Mrs. Knowles now, the woman’s Christmas would also be ruined with worry, and she didn’t want that.
