“You need to go to the registration desk.” The woman pointed around the corner, to another counter.
Olivia exhaled. The only thing sheneededwas to find her child. “But my daughter just came in by ambulance,” she managed, her mouth so dry she could barely articulate the words. Was this what Luci felt like when she couldn’t talk? “Can you at least tell me how she is?”
The receptionist regarded Olivia coolly. “Yes, which is why you need to go around to registration first. Do you have your child’s insurance card?”
“Her name is Luci, and I just want to know if she’s okay.”
“I can look up her information after you register.”
Olivia grasped the edge of the counter, as if holding on for life. “I will give you whatever information you need. Please, just tell me where my baby is.”
The receptionist pointed around the corner. “If you would just head over to registration with the insurance cards, we can complete the process.”
“Here!” Olivia flung her purse onto the counter and dumped it upside down. The contents spilled out, a shimmering array of money and pens and small bits of paper. Coins clattered to the floor. She thrust her wallet at the woman and screamed, “Take it all. Just tell me where she is!”
The receptionist rolled her chair back. “I think we need security.”
At that moment, Perry materialized at Olivia’s elbow. “Excuse me,” he said. “My name is Perry Goodwin; my daughter Emma Goodwin was also just brought in on the same ambulance. We are all here together.” His voice was calm, decisive. He took Olivia’s wallet from her and extracted her insurance card, which he handed to the woman. Then he wrapped one arm around Olivia and directed her away from the counter. “Come sit.”
Amelia was already seated in the waiting room, along with Jane and Edward, who were wringing their hands, and pacing, respectively. When had they all gotten here? Amelia patted the empty seat beside her sympathetically. A security guard rounded the corner, and Olivia sat.
Perry returned to the counter and continued addressing the receptionist. Olivia could feel the woman’s eyes on her, but she could not make out what Perry was saying, between the roaring in her ears and the crackle of the security guard’s walkie-talkie.
“It’s okay,” Amelia was whispering. “We’re going to find out where they are.” She seemed calm, but Olivia couldn’t help but notice the whites of Amelia’s knuckles where she gripped the edge of her own chair.
Olivia put her face in her hands. There was no one to call. Her sweet Jake was somewhere behind the closed doors with Luci and Emma. Her father, Pierre, was far away in Europe. There was no one else, except Ben and Marge. But she couldn’t even remember where her phone was. Had she left it on the deck back at the Goodwins’ house? An image of spilled cups and half-eaten plates of food left on the deserted patio table came to mind. She pictured stray beach towels and overturned chairs littering the plush lawn. Like a scene from a movie after a mass exodus.
Someone put a hand on her shoulder and she jumped. It was Perry. “We can go now.” Amelia also rose, and the two flanked her like bookends as they moved down the hall to a large set of doors. A bell chimed, there was a swoosh, and the double doors to the emergency department swung open. Olivia allowed herself to be propelled inside.
A nurse in pink scrubs met them. “Goodwin family?”
“Goodwin and Cossette,” Perry said.
She checked her clipboard. “This way,” she said. “Room seven for Cossette, and room nine for Goodwin.”
They followed the nurse around a maze of cubicles where doctors and orderlies lingered and laughed, where computer monitors flickered, as if it were any other afternoon in any other office. Why wasn’t anybody hurrying? This was anemergencyroom.
But then Olivia’s eyes landed on a doorway. “Number seven,” Perry said. “That’s Luci.”
Olivia broke away from them. “Luci?” she called.
There was no reply. She tugged aside the blue curtain. There, in the bed, beneath an oversized blanket was Luci. She was sitting up, conscious and eyes wide.
A sob rose up in Olivia’s throat. “Thank God.”
At the sight of her mother, Luci burst into tears, and Olivia raced to her bedside. It was then she noticed the brace on Luci’s left arm. “What happened?”
When she touched it, a small squawk rose in Luci’s throat.
Olivia sank gingerly onto the bed beside her and cupped her small face. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here.”
Where were the doctors?
Gently but urgently, she examined Luci with her eyes and hands. Every finger, every toe, no different than the day she was born. “Does anything else hurt? Can you show me?”
A nurse sailed into the room. “Are you Mom?” Both her voice and smile were bright, reassuring, unlike that awful receptionist. Olivia felt her insides loosen.
“Yes!” Olivia said. Then, “Her arm? What happened to it?”
