by Iris Parker
"Yes you do," I said loudly, then bent down to whisper to Ali. "Do you really want to do this now? In front of Jason? We had a deal, and I'm not going to compromise on your safety. It's not too late to leave you here with your mom."
Ali huffed, but snatched the belt from my hands. With a sullen look, she attached the harness end of it to herself and climbed onto the back of the bike.
She was in a hurry to grow up, I realized.
With a deep breath I finished attaching the safety belt and made sure everyone had their helmets on securely. After that, we were off. The first few minutes of a ride were always the most intense, but the body got used to it after a while. I hoped that, in spite of everything, we'd still be in for a pleasant time once we made it to the interstate.
I was absolutely wrong.
It's always the quiet ones, they say.
It turned out that Ali was no exception. Even remembering the way we'd met, the way that she'd lied and cheated her way into Ristuccia Memorial Arena, I still wasn't prepared for what came next. She was, after all, a very smart girl.
One I never expected to do something so stupid.
But she did.
It was subtle at first, just a tiny bit of tension released on the belt that connected Ali and I together. It took me a second to realize the implications, and by then it was too late. With a swift gesture, Ali detached the other half of the harness from herself.
Shivers of absolute horror ran through my body.
"What are you doing?" I shouted at the top of my lungs, but heard no answer. I looked frantically for a safe place to pull over, but there was nothing. "You need to hold on tight," I yelled, but she probably couldn't even hear me over the sound of the engine.
A bike slowing down on the interstate was at least as dangerous as waiting until the next exit. With an absolute sick feeling in my stomach, I realized that I had no choice but to hope she'd hold on tight.
But she didn't.
I felt her behind me, tossing and turning. I needed both hands to keep the bike straight, but even so I desperately wanted to reach behind me and grab her. She moved again and one hand let go of my waist, and that was it.
The entire thing only took a couple of seconds, but it seemed like an eternity as she slipped from the bike and fell onto the pavement behind, her small frame tumbling down the freeway.
My heart felt like it was exploding and I screamed in pain, slamming on the brakes as hard as I could. Horns were sounding around me as I jumped off the bike, barely even registering as Jason safely passed the two of us. I wasn't the religious type, but that didn't stop me from praying for Ali's safety as I rushed towards her now motionless body, frantically hoping that the child I loved was safe.
And that she would continue to be safe. There was a lull in our lane, buying me a couple of precious seconds as I frantically ran towards Ali and the SUV that was approaching us. Gruesome statistics still flashed in my mind, the life expectancy of an injured person on the freeway was not good.
I made it to Ali moments before the SUV did, scooping her up into my arms just as the driver managed to safely merge back into the other lane and avoid a collision. We were safe, but not for long. The SUV had been blocking my view of a small car, just a few yards away now.
Just like it had been blocking the car's view of me.
We'd gotten lucky once, but it wasn't going to happen twice.
There was absolutely no way I could escape in time, but I couldn't stand the thought of Ali being hurt. Without even realizing what I was doing, a reflex kicked in and my body seemed to react on its own. After a lifetime of playing hockey, I instinctively knew what to do when there were only a couple seconds left in the game and you couldn't make it to the goal.
You take the shot from where you are, and you hope for the best.
And that's exactly what I did.
With every bit of strength that I had, I stood my ground and threw Ali out of the way as hard as I could, tossing her off the road and towards the guardrail. Her light body flew out of my arms, landing just a couple feet away.
It wasn't much, but it was enough.
When the car slammed into me an instant later, I was the only one who got hit.
Helena
"All right, have a good—gosh, what time is it again in Ireland? Way too late to wish you a good day, right?" I asked the woman on the other side of the computer screen.
"A little bit, yeah. I'm actually heading to bed in a couple of minutes," Mairead said.
"That makes sense," I said sheepishly. "Well, in that case, have a good night!"
"You have a nice evening yourself," Mairead said. We both waved and then the Skype call was over, leaving me alone in the house. I let out a long sigh, sad that the summer was almost over but feeling energized about work. We'd gone over lots of ideas, and I had plenty of ideas for things to change. With the head of my department retiring soon, it was a good time to modernize.
Of course, no amount of change in the classroom would ever equal the changes I'd seen in my personal life. I'd started the year as a single mom to an intellectually-gifted child, and in just a few months I'd gotten pregnant and then met the father, getting into a relationship with him. It was mind-boggling how much things had changed, and how eager I was to embrace those changes and even chase down new ones.
I'd been thinking all day about the formal wear party Dominick had invited me to, wondering what it was that made me so reluctant to accept that change. Any other woman in her right mind, when asked out on a date with one of America's most eligible athletes would have sold her soul for it.
But me, I whimpered and wavered like a stray puppy.
Why was that?
I looked around the room, contemplating the walls that held the public out—and held me in. Between losing my mom at an early age, being homeschooled by my decidedly quirky father, and the rejection of my peers, I'd been hiding behind walls for most of my life. I'd been living in my shell for a long time, but I was comfortable there. The idea of breaking it open, of having cameras in my face and people talking about me in tabloids, it was all very new and more than a little scary. And then there was Ali….
Of course, Ali seemed to take after her father when it came to socializing. Despite the fact that her own life was so similar to my own childhood, she didn't seem to have any of the same baggage I did.
Maybe Dominick had been right, and it was time to take that leap. The media was going to find out sooner or later no matter what we did, and deciding when and how to tell them was just about the only form of control we truly had.
I felt foolish for not seeing that sooner.
Grabbing my phone, I turned it back on and was surprised to see the notifications tray was empty. I frowned; the meeting with Mairead had taken most of the day and I'd been looking forward to getting a message from Dom or even a few snaps sent to my inbox. Instead, there was nothing.
Well, I could hardly be upset if they were having so much fun they hadn't had time to call. After all, they knew I was busy and would've had my phone off. I'd get to see it all for myself tomorrow anyway, an excursion that I'd been eagerly awaiting since yesterday.
Trying my best to put it all out of my mind, I shook my head. The house suddenly felt very lonely, and I couldn't wait until Dom and Ali were back. Turning on the radio to help combat the emptiness, I headed to the kitchen to get an early start on dinner.
I got out a couple packs of tortillas and a couple perfectly ripe avocados, then shredded a small mountain of cheese for Ali and drained a can of green beans. Cooking made me realize I'd barely eaten today, and suddenly I felt starved famished. They'd be back for dinner soon enough, I knew, but I couldn't resist the urge to pop some bread into the toaster and slather it in butter and the homemade plum jam Mrs. Lauer had given me last year.
It was delicious, like I'd found the Holy Grail and discovered that it was made entirely out of carbs.
Pushing away the loneliness, I headed back to the living room a
nd made myself comfortable. Propping my swollen feet up on the chair across from me, I closed my eyes. My problems, like the radio, seemed to fade into the distance as I dozed off lightly, somewhere between napping and just resting. I didn't really pay any attention to anything, at least not until I caught Dominick's name on the radio.
For some reason, hearing it was chilling.
My eyes opened back up and I strained to listen, trying to make sense of what the voices were saying. I'd missed most of the story, but they were going over Dominick's achievements and career. The more I heard of it the less I liked, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why.
A wave of overwhelming nausea hit me as they began to talk about his childhood in Roxbury, and suddenly I realized why I felt so uncomfortable.
When the news starts giving a biography of a famous person, it's rarely a good thing.
Dizzy, I shook my head and refused to believe it, telling myself that maybe he'd just been spotted by some reporters or maybe he'd won something. What he possibly could've won in the off-season while in Provincetown, I didn't know, but I was clinging to any fragile hope I could think of. I drew my knees up to my chest and hugged myself, trembling as I listened to the rest of the story. At the end of the piece, the anchor repeated the beginning that I'd missed.
There had been an accident. Dominick and his passenger were reportedly alive and in Massachusetts General Hospital, but no further details were publicly known.
The nausea intensified, and I just barely made it to the sink before emptying my stomach, spasms of fear and deadly dread stabbing me in the heart. My ears were ringing and I couldn't think. It seemed like my mind was shutting down.
But I couldn't let it, not while they were still alive. Ali needed me, and so did Dominick.
I ran back for my phone, forcing myself to remain calm enough to think. Calling for a cab with trembling hands, I begged them—probably incoherently—to come as quickly as possible. But within two minutes of the call, I'd run around in circles, and thrown up a couple more times. The radio kept droning on but it only fueled my panic, and I shut it off as fast as I could. Panicking, I forgot about the cab and ran out towards my car, practically jumping into the drivers seat and peeling out of the driveway as quickly as I could.
Helena
I made my way to the ER's office, barely registering the small army of journalists camped outside the hospital or anything else. Instead I thought about the four people in line ahead of me, and the excruciating uncertainty as I had to wait to talk to anyone about anything. When I saw a nurse passing by a few minutes later, I ran up to her instead.
"Please, that child—the girl that was with Dominick Henderson—I need to see her. She's my daughter," I stammered, slurring out the words due to the intense fear that filled my veins. The nurse stared at me for a second, her eyes going from my tear-streaked face to my protruding belly. After assessing me, her expression softened and she took my hand.
"Come with me, I'll take you," she said, and I wanted to crumble into her arms and cry with gratitude. But there was no time for that, I needed to find my daughter and Dominick to be at their sides, holding their hands and making sure they were okay.
We hurried down what seemed like a dozen corridors, each step making me feel like I was going to suffocate from the fear. How was Ali? Was she in pain, or worse? I couldn't fully process the reality of what had happened; I just knew that I needed to keep walking in order to get to her and to Dominick.
When we arrived outside the operating room, the flurry of activity was as intense and harried as the storm raging inside my own chest. Doctors were running around everywhere, nurses carting medical equipment at great speed. The woman who'd led me here caught the attention of a senior nurse and introduced me.
"This young woman here, she says she's the kid's mom."
The second nurse nodded to her colleague, sending her back to whatever errand I'd interrupted her from finishing. Before leaving, she gave me a small smile of support…and I shuddered to think that maybe things were so bad that I automatically earned the heartfelt empathy of a stranger.
"Come with me," the older nurse said, directing me towards a side office where we wouldn't be surrounded by as much chaos. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Helena Bramford," I said through the lump in my throat, pulling my driver's license out from my wallet. "I'm—"
"Alicia's mom?"
"Yes! How is she? Can I see her?" I asked, relief already washing over me at the mere mention of Ali's name. Surely, if she could talk and identify herself, things couldn't have been that bad. Right?
"Not yet," the nurse shook her head. "She's pretty bruised up, and she's still being cared for by nurses who're washing the wounds."
"The wounds?" I said, feeling sick all over again.
"Nothing major, mostly surface abrasions. She got really lucky, we expected the worst at first."
Tears fell on my cheeks and my voice felt like it had been stolen away. Even though the news seemed good, I still couldn't stand the idea that my baby was so hurt and so alone.
"I really need to see her," I said.
"I know, Ms. Bramford, but you'll need to wait a little longer. I promise I'll get back to you as soon as possible, and I'll take you to see Alicia," the nurse said, getting up and ushering me into another small waiting room. I had tons of questions about her still, especially about Dominick, but I wasn't sure what—if any—information she'd be willing to give me about him.
"Wait," I said just before the nurse left. "Why did you expect the worst?"
"I can't really say," the nurse began, but trailed off when she saw the look on my face. Her eyes drifted down to my protruding belly once again, then she crossed her arms. "Alicia did not come in alone. We were worried that her injuries would be as extensive as the other person's," she said cautiously, an apologetic smile on her face.
The blood froze in my veins.
The other person? I wanted to ask, but instead only a cry of horror came out of my mouth. The nurse grabbed my arm and squeezed it reassuringly, but I didn't feel reassured.
"Please, try to relax. I'll come back to give you news as soon as I can," she said before disappearing into a side corridor.
Relax? How could I even consider relaxing when my whole world was threatening to fall apart?
Helena
I paced up and down the waiting room, my stomach twisting itself into tighter knots with each minute that passed. I was anxious to see Ali, and absolutely desperate for any news about Dominick. Of course I wasn't his next of kin, and while a couple of nurses had obviously figured out the familial relationship between Ali and Dom thanks to their shared heterochromia, they still were incredibly guarded in what they said.
As much as I hated it, I was learning more about Dom from the waiting room's television than I was from actually being inside the hospital. There had been some kind of accident, and a car had directly hit Dominick on I-93. It was both a mercy and a curse that the news wasn't reporting on Ali at all; clearly they either still didn't know about her or just didn't consider her newsworthy.
She hadn't been on the motorcycle when the accident happened, and neither had Dominick. I had no idea why, but that wasn't going to change until I got the chance to speak with Ali. Until then, I needed to content myself with periodic updates from nurses who said little more than he's doing well under the circumstances, whatever that meant. I was driving myself crazy with worry, but was powerless to do anything about anything.
"Here, ma'am, you can take a seat," a new nurse said, ushering in two older women. "He's still in being operated on, but we'll let you know as soon as we have news to share."
My heart started beating faster as I looked the two women over. The younger one appeared to be somewhere in her fifties, while the other one had at least a good decade on her. Both of them were obviously upset, red-eyed and crying as they hugged one another.
"Yes, please let us know as soon as he comes out," the older woman said, her
eyes wide with horror. I recognized the pain in her voice, and it broke my heart that a woman old enough to be my grandmother would be going through the same terror I'd experienced before hearing that Ali wasn't in any real danger.
"Of course. But it won't be for another couple of hours, at least," the nurse explained, and both women nodded. I sat back in my chair, trying to will away the tears that once again threatened to overwhelm me.
The women remained silent for a long while, both wearing the same harrowed look on their faces. When they started talking, their hushed voices were frantic with worry.
"What was he doing with a child, anyway?" the younger woman asked, her face in her hands. "Nothing about this makes any sense. Nothing!"
"God knows," the older woman answered. "It's so like him, always so secretive. He hasn't been visiting as much lately, either…do you think he might've found someone?"
"That doesn't sound like him."
"It doesn't sound like him to be giving rides to a kid, either," the older woman said as she placed her hands over her face.
Listening to their conversation, I realized that I was probably sharing this awful moment with Dominick's mother and grandmother. Out of all the ways I'd imagined meeting them, this torture was not what I had been hoping for.
I wanted to speak up, but the words caught in my throat and I had no idea what to say.
The two women continued to talk, puzzling over what Dominick could possibly have been doing and trying to piece together the whole thing. It was what I had been doing since I got here, and I knew that I needed to say something to them. I couldn't just let them sit and wonder, which I knew from experience only made things worse.
"I—I'm the kid's mom," I squeaked, barely getting the words out. Tears welled up in my eyes, and within moments the two women were next to me.
Holding my hands.
To my surprise, we didn't say anything more for a long time after that.
We didn't need to speak; we just needed something to hold on to.
