Then came the eternity of waiting for an ambulance on a day when there were so, so few available. Peter called in every favor he had, begging—she’d heard him literally beg—a dispatcher for a crew, and one did show up. Ten minutes? Twenty? Maggie had no idea.
This was Jo Ellen. Time had stopped.
Then paramedics arrived in droves, or so it seemed. So many young men in uniforms and jackets, carrying stretchers and equipment, calling out vital signs and orders that all just sounded so, so scary.
Then the blur moved. She wanted to go in the ambulance but lost that fight. Someone got her here. Vivien, maybe? No, Meredith. She didn’t remember.
But where was she? A hospital. Fort Walton Beach. A waiting room. Kate and Tessa handled the information, the sign-in.
Did they remember Jo Ellen took a statin and a daily blood pressure pill? Oh, and that other med with the dumb name? Did they know her insurance carrier? Because Maggie did.
Of course. They were next of kin. Maggie was just…her heart. How many times had Jo said that? Just last night, in fact, while they were?—
She gasped, the sudden realization of what was happening hitting her so hard, it actually hurt. Oh, yes, it hurt so bad.
I am being punished for the pot.
“Mom.” Eli’s voice was very quiet beside her. “You doin’ okay?”
She pulled herself out of the depths. “Did a doctor come out yet?”
“Not yet.” He took her hand. “She’s alive, though. Hold that thought.”
She looked at him, taking in his stricken expression, the misery in his eyes. “Eli?” she whispered. “Does…your God punish people?”
“Not really,” he said. “But He can use bad things for good.”
She heard Kate let out a soft grunt on Eli’s other side.
“No one is being punished, Mom,” he said quietly, ignoring Kate’s reaction.
Was he sure? “Because I may have…we have…maybe did…”
Eli put a hand on her arm. “Shh. The only person who did anything was me. I didn’t check that railing and I should have refused to let anyone in the house until I did.”
She heard the low tone of self-disgust in his voice, shouldering the blame. But the blame was on Maggie. She should have said no. She should have been a good girl. She should have followed the rules and maintained control and?—
“Are you Mrs. Wylie’s family?”
At the sight of a man who looked a little too small and too young to be a good doctor, they all stood and came to attention.
“We’re her daughters,” Kate said, stepping forward from the other side of Eli, holding Tessa’s hand.
“I’m Doctor Winslow,” the man said, his blue scrubs showing no sign of blood. That was good, right? “I’m one of the neurosurgeons on call here today.”
Neurosurgeon? Maggie fisted her hands and leaned in to listen.
“I’m going to give you what we have so far, and then I am going to need to get back. Your mother has an extremely serious head injury. She’s sustained a bleed inside her skull that’s putting pressure on her brain, and we have to operate immediately to relieve that pressure. We’re prepping the operating room now. The surgery itself will take several hours.”
“I need more,” Kate said, stepping closer. “Large? Acute? Subdural?”
Maggie had no idea what she was talking about, but tried to concentrate and listen, despite the blood pounding in her own head.
“Yes to all, with a midline shift, which means the accumulated blood is pressing on the brain hard enough to push it across the centerline of the skull.” He let out a breath, which said what he didn’t:this was not good.
“Any other injuries?” Eli asked.
“She has multiple rib fractures, a bruised lung, and a fractured wrist, hip contusion, no other internal bleeding that we can find.” He listed them off with about as much emotion as a waiter giving the specials.
