Someone behind me announced that they’d called 911. The only other thing I could hear was the pounding of my heart as terror took over.
“Allez, réveille-toi mon poussin,” I whispered, holding her little hand. Willing her to wake up was a useless contribution, but I had no idea what else to do.
Seconds passed like minutes then Bridget let out a strained little cough and opened her eyes.
The woman tending to her smiled down. “Hello, little one. Welcome back.”
I studied her face. “She’s not back,” I insisted, terrified all over again.
I’d been looking into those blue eyes long before Bridget was born. They were exactly the same shade of blue as her father’s and grandmother’s. They were dark, deep and clear. Bridget’s were blank. She was also deathly quiet, and Bridget was never quiet.
“She might be having a seizure,” suggested the woman, sounding worried.
I put my hand on Bridget’s chest, but wasn’t sure why. She let out a little cry and asked for her dad.
I breathed out, utterly relieved. “She’s back.”
Bridget’s crying got louder as the minutes passed. I took it as a good sign, but I wanted her to stay put until the EMTs arrived so I gently held her in place on the sand.
By the time they finally got there, she was inconsolable. We both were, which is why I let the lady who hadn’t left her side since the fall do all the talking.
“She was out for less than a minute,” she reported.
Allowing her to be the spokesperson was a good move. In my mind, I’d been begging her to wake up for at least an hour, and probably would’ve told them so. “It took her a long while to come round once she opened her eyes,” she added.
The two EMTs began talking between themselves as they checked Bridget over. The decision to take Bridget to hospital was made quickly. I wouldn’t have settled for anything less, but it did nothing to dull my terror.
“Are you her father?” asked one of the men.
“Her uncle.” Her inattentive, incompetent uncle.
“You’re going to ride with her?” he asked.
There was no way they could’ve stopped me if they’d wanted to.
***
Bridget was whisked out of my sight as soon as we arrived at the hospital, but I could still hear her. She sounded as scared as I was, crying out for Charli and Adam. If she’d had a preference, it would’ve made my next move much easier. I had no idea which of her parents to call first. I stood in the corridor, trying to stay out of everyone’s way while I decided.
Adam was less likely to freak out and kill me, so I called him. The conversation was quick. He didn’t want details. All he wanted to know was which hospital his little girl was in.
“Will you call Charli or do you want me to?” I asked.
“I’ll call her.”
I’d transferred all my panic to her father. My panic had given way to guilt. I trudged back to the waiting area and slumped in the first empty chair I came across, burying my face in my hands. After a long moment, I glanced up at my surroundings, quickly deciding that Emergency Room waiting areas are close to hell on earth.
A miserable looking woman sat across from me. I dropped my head again purely to avoid her unnerving stare. A small child sat behind me, coughing right in my ear. That wasn’t unnerving. It was just plain gross.
I don’t know how much time passed before a nurse got my attention by putting her hand on my shoulder. “Mr Décarie?”
I straightened up. “Yes?”
She smiled kindly. Obviously she had no idea that I was the baby-sitter from hell. “Bridget is asking for you.”
I shook my head. “No,” I corrected, clearing my throat, “she’s asking for her dad.”
“You’re Ryan?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Then she’s asking for you.”
I followed her without question. Despite the fact that the only thing separating us from the rest of the busy emergency room was a curtain, things seemed a little calmer. One nurse remained with us, writing on a chart at the foot of the bed. Even Bridget had settled. Her wailing had dulled to a sad little whimper.
She reached out as soon as she saw me. She looked so little and so scared that I was afraid to touch her, but I took her hand.
“Have her parents been notified?” asked the nurse, glancing up.
“They’re on their way.”
Considering Adam was at his office when I called, I was amazed to see him arrive as quickly as he did. He threw back the curtain and half scooped Bridget into his arms, almost roughly.
I backed up to give him space. Adam didn’t acknowledge me. I doubt he even saw me. As soon as he’d checked Bridget over, he set his sights on the clipboard-wielding nurse, firing off a quick round of questions without giving her time to answer.
“A doctor will be in shortly,” she said perfectly calmly. “He’ll explain everything.”
Ambiguity and Adam are not friends. If I’d known that was her MO, I would’ve warned her against it.
“Get someone in here now,” he demanded. “If you can’t tell me what I need to know then get someone who can.”
“Let her do her job, Adam,” I muttered.
He twisted in the chair to face me, still holding his daughter. The nurse took the opportunity to slip out. “What the hell happened?”
Whatever I told him was only going to be summation. I was about to confess that I hadn’t actually witnessed her fall when Bridget threw up – straight down the front of his shirt. She followed up with hysterical crying. Adam did his best to calm her, pretending that being covered in vomit didn’t bother him. I ripped a handful of paper towel from the dispenser on the wall and handed it to him. Pathetically, it was the best I had to offer. I had no idea what to say or do.
“Thank you,” he muttered, futilely dabbing the front of his shirt.
“I’m going to wait outside,” I said weakly. “Is Charli on her way?”
Mentioning her name wasn’t smart. Bridget’s wailing now included calling for her mother.
“She’s on her way, baby,” Adam promised, before turning back to murmur a more truthful answer to me. “Her phone went to voicemail. I left her a message.”
I nodded. “I’ll keep trying her.” I slipped back out to the waiting room and sat on the same chair I’d vacated earlier.
I had every intention of trying to call Charli but an incoming call side-tracked me. I stared at the phone before answering, watching Bente’s name flash across the screen.
“Hey,” I answered quietly.
“Hey. Where are you? I thought you’d be home by now.”
“Are you at home?”
“Yeah, have been for a while,” she replied. “I’ve just come from the club. I spent all afternoon with Tiger. We –”
“I’m at the hospital,” I interrupted. “Bridget fell off the climbing thing at the park.”
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Is she okay? Do you want me to come down there?”
I could think of nothing I wanted more, but it wouldn’t have done any good. I had no place there. She’d just be another person in the way.
“No,” I said quietly. “But I’d be really happy if you were there when I got home.”
“Of course I’ll be here, Ryan,” Bente replied. “Always.”
***
I never got as far as calling Charli. Just as I ended the call with Bente, she came rushing in, looking more damaged than Bridget. She was carrying her shoes in her hands, and limping thanks to a nasty scrape on her knee. She didn’t see me but I caught her arm as she passed.
“Where is she?” she demanded.
“Adam’s with her,” I replied. “She’s okay.”
She stared blankly at me, seemingly processing the information, which was very odd because I really hadn’t given her any. Her eyes welled with tears. “I fell off my shoes,” she whimpered.
Charli was strange, but not usually this strange. “Do you wan
t me to get someone to have a look at your knee?”
Charli looked down at her bloody knee. “No. Where’s Bridget?”
“I’ll take you to her,” I replied.
The nurse at the triage desk buzzed us in and Charli’s urgent pace kicked in again. I almost had to run to keep up with her. “Slow down, Charli,” I pleaded. “You don’t know where you’re going.”
She came to a grinding halt and spun back to face me. “Where were you, Ryan?” she hissed. “You were supposed to be watching her.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
She said a million words with just the expression on her distraught face. I said nothing. I pointed to the door that her child was behind. I didn’t follow her. I stayed in the corridor, continuing the excruciating wait for news.
Eventually two orderlies wheeled a gurney into Bridget’s ward. When they reappeared a minute later, my little niece was on it, still sobbing her heart out. They stopped midway down the hall while they studied the chart at the foot of the bed, ignoring the little girl’s distress.
Bridget was a happy kid. I’d never heard her cry for longer than a few minutes, even when she was a baby. She’d been crying solidly for well over an hour now, and it was entirely my fault.
Adam and Charli walked out a few seconds later. He was talking softly, trying to reassure her. Charli nodded incessantly but I knew she wasn’t hearing a word he was saying. Adam knew it too. He turned her to face him. “Do you want me to go with her?” he asked. “You can stay here and get someone to patch up your knee.”
“No,” she whimpered. “I want to go with her.”
Adam kissed her, resting his forehead on hers. “I’ll wait here for you. She’s going to be fine, Charli. I promise you.”
Charli didn’t reply. She broke free and limped after the gurney.
Adam watched until they pushed through the double doors and disappeared. He might’ve stood there indefinitely if I hadn’t spoken and snapped him back to the moment. “Where are they going?”
He turned to face me, looking weary and worried. “They’re doing a CT scan, just as a precaution.”
I slowly nodded. “I’m so freaking sorry.” I punched out the words. “I only turned my back for a minute and – ”
“Do you think we can get coffee here?” he asked, cutting me off. “I could really do with one right now.”
***
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought coffee from a vending machine. After one sip, I remembered why.
We ended up in the vile waiting room, side by side on a row of joined plastic chairs. I chose the far side of the room where we had some little privacy, but the miserable woman with the scary stare was still eying me from a distance – and the closest child to us was coughing.
Neither of us spoke. I spent minutes trying to come up with something reassuring to say, but failed. Adam spoke first. “I can’t wait to get this shirt off,” he muttered. “It’s foul.”
He was right. It was nasty. But it wasn’t what I was worried about right now. “I should’ve been watching her. I didn’t even see her fall.”
“She didn’t fall,” he replied.
“Huh?”
“She didn’t fall. She jumped. Bridget told me she jumped.”
I shook my head. “One minute she –”
“She jumped, Ryan,” he insisted. “She’s been taking flying leaps off things for a long time. You’ve seen her do it.” Adam glanced at me. “It just so happened that this one ended badly on your watch.”
I stared straight ahead. “I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened.”
Adam huffed out a noise that almost sounded like a laugh. “Yeah, I’d be in a much happier place if she’d made the landing.”
After my harsh lecture earlier that afternoon, her flying ambitions were supposed to have been permanently shelved. I knew Bridget well. I should’ve known that I hadn’t curbed anything. I’d only made her determined to prove me wrong.
“She’ll be okay,” I told us. Please let her be okay.
“I know she will.” He sounded absolutely truthful. “She has to be.”
I had no idea why he was being so reasonable, but I was grateful. “I’m still sorry.”
Adam dropped his coffee into the trashcan. “Me too,” he replied. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the one at the park with her and I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
“You were at work,” I reasoned.
“I’m always at work,” he said sourly. “I don’t even know why anymore.”
The conversation had shifted, and I had no idea where he was going with it. “I’m going to quit,” he quietly announced. “Dad can find a new whipping boy and I can spend more time with my daughter. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
I glanced at him. “Because of today?”
“Partly. It was a wake-up call.”
“Just take a bit of time off,” I suggested. “You might want to go back to it later.”
“No, I won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m not a lawyer, Ryan.” He stared at the floor. “I just pretend to be. I freaking hate the job. I hate everything about it.”
“So you’ll take on the work at the club?”
“Maybe. I’m looking forward to smashing stuff up. I don’t want to oversee it. I want a more hands-on role. That’s what I do best. I smash stuff up and then I make it new again. That’s my bliss.”
Fairy-speak was creeping in. It wasn’t his fault. It was a side effect of being married to Tinker Bell – the same Tinker Bell who stupidly encouraged their daughter to practise flying.
“I used to spend every day hanging out with Bridget.” It was a dizzying exchange. Adam’s mind was so shot that he was drifting between two conversations. All I could do was try to keep up. “Now I’m gone all day and she’s in bed when I get home at night. Who in their right mind would choose to do that? What’s the point?”
I had no answer.
“Charlotte and Bridget are everything to me, Ryan.” His voice cracked. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to them.” He hung his head, resting his elbows on his knees.
I put my hand on the back of his neck. “She’s going to be okay,” I replied unconvincingly.
He said nothing.
64. SUPPORT
Bente
The afternoon dragged on. When Ryan finally walked through the door, I was beside myself with worry. He stood with his back against the door, staring at me but not speaking.
I kept my position on the couch, studying his dire expression. Unable to draw any positivity from it, asking after Bridget took effort.
“She’s okay,” he said quietly. “Concussed, but she’s going to be alright. If she gets some rest tonight, they’ll let her go home tomorrow.”
I jumped up, rushed over and pulled him in as close as I could. His whole body was rigid and tense, so I held him tighter. He finally reciprocated by wrapping his arms around me and burying his head in my shoulder. “Are you okay?” He answered with a warm kiss to my neck.
“Please talk to me,” I begged. He didn’t talk. The strong, aloof Ryan Décarie just needed to be held.
He finally broke the embrace. “Today has been awful,” he said, swiping both hands down his face.
“I know,” I replied. “But everything’s okay.”
“She could’ve died, Bente.” His jaw tensed as he swallowed hard. “I was supposed to be watching her.”
My heart broke for him. I knew there was nothing I could say to make him feel better, but I could at least get him cleaned up. “Ry, you stink.”
He choked out something between a sob and a laugh. “I know. Bridget puked on Adam.” I frowned at his stained shirt. “We swapped shirts.”
“You gave your brother the shirt off your back?” I joked.
Finally he smiled. “It was the least I could do considering I nearly killed his kid.”
***
A long shower almos
t revived him. I’d showered earlier, but joined him anyway in a ruse to keep him talking.
Ryan was worried about more than Bridget’s well being. He was anxious that he’d somehow damaged her by smashing Charli’s fairy theories to pieces.
“You should’ve seen her little face, Bente,” he muttered. “I broke her heart.”
I rubbed his shoulders with soapy hands, trying to work the knots out of his stressed body. “You said she jumped,” I reminded.
“So her dad says.”
“Well, if that’s true she’s still a believer,” I reasoned. “She obviously thought she was going to nail it.”
“It wasn’t my place to set her straight.”
I stayed silent because I agreed, and he didn’t need to hear it. I was fascinated by Bridget’s take on the world. Unlike Ryan, I didn’t find it odd. I thought of it as endearing and innocent – and a perfect mindset for a little girl.
“You should’ve seen the look on Charli’s face,” he continued. “I’ve never seen her so upset.”
“Her baby is in the hospital, Ryan. Of course she’s upset.”
“I think she blames me,” he mumbled. “I don’t know how to cope with that.”
***
Bridget was released from hospital the next morning. I declined Ryan’s offer to visit her at home. He didn’t question it, which led me to think I’d made the right decision.
“What am I going to say to her?” The desperate tone of voice was very unlike him. “I’m not sure what I should say.”
Guilt is a terrible burden, especially when it’s undeserved. “No one is going to blame you,” I promised. “Tell her you hope she’s feeling better and give her a big hug.”
He nodded. “It’s a start, right?”
65. CONFESSIONS
Ryan
Turning up empty-handed seemed awfully cheap. Under normal circumstances I would’ve taken flowers, but my sister-in-law had a problem with cut flowers and I wasn’t prepared to rock the boat that day.
Adam met me at the door, looking worse than he had the day before. I soon realised why. Mom was busy in the poky little kitchen, and I could smell something bitter and burnt.
Secret North: Book 4 of The Wishes Series Page 28
