Ava has somehow managed to build a vertical fort-like structure from God knows what. I squint as I study it. Boxes, toys, couch cushions, and other odd bits are stuck together and she’s sitting on top of it near the ceiling.
I swallow. Shit. How did I leave her alone so long that she’s managed to construct a building?
“And…” she adds and pulls out a cord, plugging it into an extension cord. The room lights up with little twinkling fairy lights. “Ta-da!” she exclaims as she stretches out her hands and then everything goes sideways…quite literally.
Ava starts to fall, the unpermitted structure starts to collapse, and I go diving horizontally to catch her. Toys and boxes rain down on me as I manage to sort of get her.
She screams out in pain, and I freeze, pulling her against me.
“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” I say, panicked as my eyes search her body.
She’s wailing and holding her hand.
I take a deep breath. “Pull it together, Bray. You’re a fucking emergency room doctor,” I silently scold myself.
“Let me see your hand, Peanut,” I say softly.
She keeps crying but holds her hand out, clutching it with her other hand. I sit her in my lap and push toys away from us as I slowly pry her other hand away to examine it.
Her middle finger is swollen. Shit. No bones are protruding and there’s a little discoloration, but not horrible. It might be broken, but without X-rays, it’s hard to tell.
“Can you bend your finger?” I ask her. She tries but doesn’t bend it very far.
“I-it h-hurts!” she wails.
“I know, baby. I know. I’m so sorry. Unca Bray is gonna fix it, OK? Why don’t we take a fun ride over to my work so I can make it all better?” I say as I stand and lift her in my arms.
“I d-don’t w-wanna g-go!” she screams as she sobs. My heart literally breaks into a thousand pieces. I hold her tight against my chest and kiss the top of her head as I carry her into the kitchen, turn off the stove, and grab my wallet and keys. Then I pull an ice pack from the freezer.
I’m out the door with Ava in just a few seconds, hurrying to the garage. I put Ava in the car seat I installed in here two years ago when I got tired of borrowing Carly’s. She’s nearly outgrown this one, but I pay no attention to that as I fasten her into it. I hand her the ice pack.
“Here,” I start as I set it on her lap, “put your hand on this and it will help you feel better,” I say as I help her set her hand with her hurt finger on the soft ice pack.
She whimpers and my heart lurches. “I’m so sorry, Peanut. I promise I will make it feel all better.”
With tears streaming down her rosy cheeks, she looks up at me like I’m her knight in shining armor, but I don’t feel like I am. “Y-you promise?” she whispers and then sniffles.
“I promise. Good as new,” I say as I lean down and rub my nose against hers.
She sighs a little after a hiccup.
“That’s my brave girl. We’ll be there in two minutes,” I say as I lean back and close the door.
I hurry to get into my seat and then drive us the few blocks to the hospital. I park in my coveted reserved spot, earned after years of hard work. I usually let my colleagues use it, so I’m extra glad that Gloria is off today since she’s the one I’ve gifted it to for the next two weeks.
I have Ava in my arms and inside the ER in a matter of minutes.
“Hey, I thought you weren’t in until four?” one of our nurses says as I walk us into the heart of the chaotic space that I call work.
“We had a little accident, didn’t we, Peanut?” I explain as I point to her finger.
Ava nods.
The nurse, Ruby, comes over and takes a look. “Oh my, what have we here? You know what, I think I have something that will make it all better.”
“Y-you do?” Ava asks, her eyes widening as she keeps the ice pack firmly against her hand.
“I do,” Ruby says. She walks over to her desk and opens a drawer. She finds a box of stickers.
