Page 100 of Wild Abandon

Nate walks to the doors of the emergency room and mouths the words, Thank you, to me before the doors close behind him.

I take a seat in the waiting room and wait. I watch CNN enough times that the news starts to repeat. I take out my phone and play a game. When my phone dies, I stare at the mauve linoleum floor and count the squares from one side of the room to the other. When exhaustion finally sets in, I lean back and allow my eyes to close.

When my eyes open, it takes me a moment to realize where I am. The clock on the wall says it’s two in the morning. I think I slept a total of thirty minutes.

Rubbing my eyes, I rise from the chair and walk to the nurse by the check-in desk. The woman behind the computer looks up at me.

“I’m checking in on my friend. Last name Teller. She had a seizure. Brought in from Golden Gate Rehabilitation,” I offer as much information as I can.

“Elizabeth Teller?” she asks.

I nod. Elizabeth. What a beautiful name.

“She was just transferred to the third floor.”

“She’s okay!” Relief swims through my veins. “Thank you.”

I turn around and look at the uncomfortable plastic seat and the television news ticker replaying again. I know I should stay here, so Nate can find me when it’s time to leave, but I can’t fathom sitting back down. My adrenaline is at an all-time high. My brain is berating myself for being here, and my heart is wondering where Nate is and if he’s okay.

Needing to stretch my legs, I take a walk. Through a side door, I see the restrooms and another door. I swing that one open and take the long hallway away from the emergency room. I eventually land in the lobby of the main hospital.

I take the elevator to the third floor. Perhaps the waiting room up there has a couch. I can wait for Nate there.

When I exit onto the floor, it’s dark and quiet. A waiting area is just beyond the elevator bank. I take a seat and start reading Consumer Reports. Because that’s what people who are visiting their sick loved ones want to read about—oven ranges with built-in warming drawers and high-tech thermometers.

A nurse walks through the doors, her white sneakers squeaking. She passes through another set of doors. It’s quiet again.

The elevator chimes. A doctor exits. He walks through double doors. Again, silence.

I shuffle through AARP The Magazine. The double doors open again, but this time, Nate walks through. I stand when he approaches. He sees the concern in my eyes.

“She’s okay. She’s sleeping.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Was there any damage?”

“They ran some tests. Scans look the same.” He’s melancholy. Nate points his thumb toward the elevator. “I have to go back downstairs to the emergency room and fill out a form.”

As much as I want to be here for him, I can’t help but feel out of place. I invited myself, like an overbearing mother. If it weren’t two thirty in the morning, I’d leave.

“I’ll wait here,” I offer.

Nate bobs his head. A look in his eyes makes it seem like he wants to say so much, yet his mouth can give so little. Instead, he turns around and hits the down button for the elevator.

When the elevator closes behind him, stare back at myself through the steel doors. Long auburn hair, pink skin, and bright eyes.

I can’t help but wonder about the woman he’s giving his world for.

I walk through the doors I saw Nate coming through. At the nurses’ station is a whiteboard with patients’ names on it.

E. Teller is in room A302.

“Miss, you can’t be here.” A nurse approaches, scowling.

I stammer back and point down the hall toward where her room is. “I’m here to see my sister.” I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t really want to see her. I think I just wanted to glance at her one more time. I can’t explain to this nurse that I’m in love with the woman’s husband and want to see her face one more time for…closure?

“This is hardly visiting hours. How did you get up here?”

“Through the emergency room. The doctor told me to come up.” It’s amazing how quick on your feet you can be when you’re caught in a lie.