Not an easy task in the rain or when the patient was in such pain.
All the while he thought about Coach Carter and about Mr. Burroughs. Should he call to say he would be late? Brandon glanced at his watch. One forty-five. Surely he could wait until the paramedics arrived and still make it in plenty of time.
“Bree’s at the dry cleaners,” Abbey said as they waited on the ambulance. “Let me give you her cell number.”
Brandon entered the number in his phone, then made the call. He quickly explained the situation, and she began to cry at once. “W–where are they t–taking her?”
“Allegheny General, wherever that is.”
“I know where it is,” Brianna said. “I’ll meet you there.” She hung up before he could tell her that he couldn’t possibly— under any circumstances—meet her there.
Several minutes later the ambulance arrived. The paramedics lifted Abbey, whose face was white with pain, onto a stretcher then placed her into the back of the ambulance.
“We’re headed to Allegheny General!” the older one called out to Brandon. “We’ll meet you in the ER.”
“No, I. . . See. . .” He glanced at Abbey’s tear-filled eyes and heard her cries.
He sighed as he looked at his watch. One fifty-five. Maybe if he timed this right, he could swing by the hospital on his way to the team headquarters. It was on the way, after all. He hoped.
He followed the ambulance out onto the highway and trailed it into town. They arrived at the emergency room door at exactly 2:03. He hoped Brianna was already here and would take over. Surely she would understand.
❧
Brianna fought the blinding rain as she made her way toward Allegheny General Hospital. The very thing she feared most had actually happened.
“Gran-Gran.” Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision even more. She whispered a prayer—her fifth or sixth since getting in the car.
Brianna swiped at her eyes, determined to remain focused. Her grandmother needed her. A lump rose in her throat as she contemplated the truth of it. I’m the only one Gran-Gran has.
Well, unless you counted Brandon Campbell.
Hmm. He had been kind enough to call the paramedics, then stay with her all the way to the hospital. Maybe he wasn’t the ogre she had made him out to be.
Well, no time to think about that right now. With the hospital fully in view, Brianna had only one thing on her mind—getting to her grandmother—and the sooner the better.
SEVEN
At five minutes after two Brandon snapped open his cell phone to make the dreaded call. “Coach Carter, this is Brandon.”
“Where are you?” Carter bellowed. “We’re expecting the media anytime now. Can’t do this without you, son.”
Brandon did his best to explain, but his words were met with hostility.
“What do you mean, you’re going to be late? This is your day, Campbell. Your day. If you’re not here, there is no day.”
I’m having a day, all right. “You see, sir—”
The team’s general manager must have taken the phone away from Carter. “I’ve already called your agent, Campbell,” Burroughs interrupted in a huff. “So if you’re holding out for more money—if this is some kind of ploy—”
Brandon let out a groan. “No, sir, that’s not it at all. This is a true emergency.” He went on to tell the story of what had happened to Abbey, hoping against hope Burroughs would find it in his heart to be compassionate. Surely he had a mother or grandmother out there—somewhere.
“You’ve only been in town a couple of days, and you want me to believe you’ve already befriended an old woman?” Burroughs snorted. “Just tell me what’s really going on here, Campbell. How much more money are you thinking you can weasel out of us?”
Brandon drew in a deep breath before answering. “I’m telling you the truth. I was backing out of the driveway in the rain, with every intention of heading toward the stadium, when I saw her fall. No one else was there, so I had to stop.”
“Humph.” After a pause Burroughs’s tone of voice changed.“So you’re saying this is weather-related, then.”
“Well, yes, I suppose you could say—”
“Where are you now?”
“The emergency room at Allegheny General Hospital.”
“Hmm.” Burroughs seemed to soften a bit. “Can’t exactly do a press conference there, now, can we?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay, then here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll tell the press we’ve filled the empty spot on the line, and, of course, speculations will begin.” Here his voice became very businesslike. “We’ll delay the announcement—tell them our new player was unavoidably detained because of the weather.”
“B–but—”
“No buts. And we’ll play up the do-gooder thing later, once the story has broken. In the meantime we’ll get rid of the media and reschedule for tomorrow—same time, same place.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Keep a low profile, son. They’re going to be on the lookout for you. Just lay low.”
“Of course.”
“And don’t make me come looking for you,” Burroughs groused. “I’m going to have a doozy of a time smoothing this one over, as it is. And Campbell—”
“Sir?”
“I’m sending a car for you—tomorrow at 1:00. You will be here, understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Brandon clicked off, feeling absolutely sick to his stomach. How could this have happened? And yet. . .he peeked inside Abbey’s room, saw the pain in her eyes, and asked himself, What else could I have done?
❧
Brianna entered the hospital, breathless and terrified. She approached the nurse at the front desk.
“I’m looking for my grandmother. She was brought in about a half hour ago. Her name is Abbey Nichols.”
The woman glanced at the computer screen then looked up. “She’s in room 3, just through that door,” she said, pointing down the hall.
Brianna raced through the double doors and down the hallway until she found the door with the number 3 outside. It was slightly ajar, and she almost pushed it open. Almost. Instead, she came to a grinding halt as she heard Gran-Gran’s voice.
“I have a confession to make, Brandon.” Her grandmother’s words were strained. Brianna leaned in with a huge lump in her throat, terrified but not wanting to interrupt.
“What is it, Abbey?” Brandon’s tender voice took Brianna by surprise.
“I–I’ve been playing a little prank on Bree.”
What?
Gran-Gran giggled, and Brianna almost bolted through the door. Instead she stood as still as a mouse to hear the confession in question. What was her grandmother up to?
“I’ve been fibbing,” Gran-Gran said with a sigh. “I told Bree some things about you that weren’t—weren’t true.”
Oh, dear.
“I had a feeling,” Brandon responded. “But why?” Brianna could hear the concern in his voice, and remorse suddenly flooded over her for the things she’d said to him just this morning.
“Well. . .” Another giggle erupted from Gran-Gran. “I was trying to be clever, trying to think of a reason to send her over to your place for a visit. I knew from the moment I met you, you two were perfect for each other.”
No!
“Oh, you did, did you?” Brandon laughed.
“I wanted her to get to know you.”
Tell me you didn’t!
“Aha.” Now Brandon was the one chuckling. “Well, I have to admit, I’m relieved. After she paid me a visit this morning, I racked my brain trying to figure out why you would’ve told her those things. She thinks I have a dog!”
“Sorry, Charlie!” Gran-Gran’s giggles took over from there. “But if it will make you feel better, I’ll get you one. I have friends at the ASPCA.”
“Um, no, thanks.”
Brianna decided to break up the party. She cleared her throat. Loudly. She wanted to make a
n entrance but certainly didn’t want them to know she’d heard a word.
“Anyone here?” she called out.
Suddenly Gran-Gran let out an exaggerated whisper, clearly meant for Brandon. “It’s Bree!” After another second or two she used a much different voice to call, “I’m here, sweet girl! Come in—come in.”
Brianna walked in and found her grandmother in the hospital bed. Brandon stood at her side, clasping her hand. Though tempted to give Gran-Gran a piece of her mind, she stopped short when she saw the heart monitor and IV drip. That, along with the look of pain on her grandmother’s face, was enough to cause her to drop the speech she’d been formulating. She rushed to the bedside and ran her fingers through Gran-Gran’s thin wisps of hair.
“What happened?” she managed over the lump in her throat.
“Don’t ask me. I was just headed out to get the mail, like always, and the next thing you knew I was belly-up on the driveway.”
“Oh, no.” Brianna reached to take her grandmother’s free hand in her own, then looked over at Brandon. He wore a look of true concern on his face.
“Thank the Lord for Brandon,” Gran-Gran said, then rested her head back against the pillow. “If he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t seen the whole thing—turns out he’s a knight in shining armor.”
“Um, not exactly.” Brandon looked embarrassed.
“An angel, then,” Gran-Gran said.
At this Brandon let out a laugh. “Don’t go polishing my halo just yet.”
Brianna looked up at their neighbor with newfound compassion. She had been wrong about him in every respect. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He shrugged then looked back at Abbey. “I’m just glad I happened to be there. God put me in the right place at the right time.”
Kindhearted and a believer? Was it possible?
“I think I saw stars when I hit the ground,” Gran-Gran acknowledged. “Then I looked up, and Brandon was standing over me. And then I remember seeing the umbrella bouncing down the driveway. Crazy thing had a mind of its own. I think I said something foolhardy to Brandon. Something about being a clumsy old woman.”
“You’re not clumsy,” Brianna and Brandon spoke in unison, then looked at each other and laughed.
“You just think you’re indestructible,” Brianna added. “That’s all.”
Gran-Gran shrugged but then let out a groan as she tried to shift her position in the bed. “I don’t feel so indestructible now. I feel like a broken china doll.”
“I’m sorry.” Brianna gave her a kiss on the forehead, then looked her in the eye. “What have they done for you?”
Brandon quickly explained. “They took her back to radiology for a series of X-rays and then started her on an IV drip— antibiotics, as a preventative, and something for the pain.”
That would explain the slurred speech and the impromptu giggles.
“But they’ve got you on a monitor,” Brianna noted. “What’s up with that?”
“Oh, something about my blood pressure,” Gran-Gran said with the wave of a hand. “I guess they were worried about my heart or something. I told ’em to focus on my hip, not my heart.”
“Still. . .” Brianna’s eyes filled once more. If this episode brought about too much strain, her grandmother’s heart could very well be affected. Oh, thank God Brandon had been there to take care of her and to make sure she made it to the hospital safely.
“You’re going to do exactly as the doctors say, Gran-Gran,” Brianna said sternly.
“What are my other options?” Her grandmother managed a weak smile.
Just then the doctor entered the room and introduced himself as Lloyd Peters, an orthopedist. “It looks like you’ve got quite a break, Mrs. Nichols.” He pulled out the X-rays to show them the proof. “Your hip is broken in two places. We’re going to have to pin you back together.”
“Pin her together?” Brianna and Brandon spoke in unison again.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Dr. Peters explained. “It’s a very common procedure. But I do need to make you aware of the risks before we go to the OR.”
Gran-Gran nodded, watching him closely.
“Your bones are more brittle than most, due to the osteoporosis,” Dr. Peters explained. “But we’ll be able to get you fixed up. I’ll start by making a surgical incision; then I’ll apply metal screws to hold you together while you heal.”
He went on to explain things that could go wrong, but Brianna hardly heard a word. Instead everything kind of faded to gray.
Gran-Gran would require surgery. Then a hospital stay for a couple of weeks. Then she would be transferred to a rehab facility to learn to walk again.
Everything inside Brianna wanted to scream. Instead she kept the most hopeful look on her face she could manage, for her grandmother’s sake. She needed to play it cool, needed to act as if all of this would turn out just fine.
But would it?
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and looked away for a moment. Oh, God, please take care of her. Don’t let anything go wrong in the operating room, please.
After a thorough explanation from the doctor, she headed out into the hallway to chat with the doctor in private. Once there he explained the risks a little more thoroughly.
“Even with surgery the hip might not heal properly. If the nerves or blood vessels leading to the bone were significantly injured during the break, the bone could die.”
“W–what can I do for her?”
“She’ll be in the hospital for some time, as I said. She will need that lengthy period of bed-rest to help the bone heal.”
Brianna swallowed hard and nodded. She would make sure Gran-Gran was taken care of. Somehow.
“After that she will be transferred to rehab. Once she’s there you will need to encourage her to get up and around. As I mentioned, rehabilitation will be critical to her recovery, so make sure she cooperates.”
The doctor wrapped up his instructions then turned, leaving Brianna in stunned silence.
Grief overtook her, and she leaned against the wall, tears streaming. At that very moment she felt a strong arm reach around her shoulders, drawing her into an awkward embrace. She leaned her face into Brandon’s chest and wept, silently at first, then with unashamed abandon.
When she calmed down she closed her eyes and shook her head. “What am I going to do?”
“We’re going to do exactly what she needs us to do,” he explained. “Starting with going back in there to spend a few minutes with her before they prep her for surgery. Then we’re going to pray.” He looked into her eyes. “You heard what the doctor said, Bree. She’s going to be okay.”
Brianna nodded but didn’t feel the same assurance in her heart. Whenever she thought about losing Gran-Gran, fear gripped her. She didn’t know how she would make it if—
“Let’s go back in the room.” Brandon interrupted her thoughts. “She’s probably missing us by now.”
They entered the room to find Gran-Gran with the remote in hand. Her eyes, once filled with pain, now twinkled with delight. “You’re never going to believe this!” she said as she turned to look at Brianna.
“What, Gran-Gran?”
“They’ve got cable TV! I’m watching the sports channel.”
Brianna dropped into a chair. “Of all things.”
“And get this,” Gran-Gran continued with a frustrated look on her face. “All that stuff about a press conference today at 3:00? Baloney! It’s been canceled.”
Brianna noticed Brandon’s gaze shift to the floor.
Her grandmother forged ahead, clearly upset about something having to do with a new player. “The fact that he didn’t show up for the press conference just confirms what I’ve been saying all week. In fact, Rena and I argued about this very thing last night. All of this frenzy is a hoax to give fans false hope. We’re not getting a new quarterback. All of this media attention is just to sell tickets.”
Brianna turned to look at Brandon
to see if he could make any sense out of Gran-Gran’s words. Maybe he understood a little something about football. Clearly she didn’t.
As she opened her mouth to ask for his opinion, she glimpsed his face.
For whatever reason, the man looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
EIGHT
Brandon paced the tiny OR waiting room with a cup of coffee in his hand. He passed the desk, which sat empty. Off in the distance a wall-hung television flashed photos of a car accident on one of the local highways. No one in the room seemed to be paying much attention to the news. Most were gathered together in huddles, worried looks on their faces. A few sat slumped over in chairs, dozing.
Brandon shuddered as he remembered another time, years ago, when he and his mother had gathered with his older siblings in a similar hospital waiting room in Florida. His father had been whisked away into surgery to repair a clogged artery in his neck. Just a minimal procedure, according to the doctors. No big deal.
How long had they waited in the room together, hunkered down, like so many of these folks—two hours? three?—before the doctors came to give them the grim news. Unexpected and horrifying news.
Massive stroke.
Another shiver ran down Brandon’s spine as he remembered the series of events that followed.
Coma, little hope of survival. Days of waiting, praying. His older brother—distant and removed—acting like nothing was wrong. An ever-present mob of his mother’s church friends. The morning to end all mornings. Casseroles.
Everything after that one awful day had involved casseroles and older women with white hair moving back and forth in a steady stream from the house, tending to his mother’s every need.
Ironically his father had tended to his mother’s every need also, even before passing on. Turned out his organizational skills had worked to everyone’s advantage. Brandon smiled as he remembered the day his mother had pulled out the paperwork. His father had taken care of every detail in advance, right down to writing his own eulogy and obituary and planning the order of service. He’d left nothing to chance, even naming his favorite hymns and selecting a suit to be buried in.
Red, White and Blue Weddings: Red Like Crimson, White as Snow, Out of the Blue Page 19
