The Waiting Room

by Annabel Lucas

  “Micah,” Her voice sounded foreign to her ears, and so clueless as if she could call him back.

  “Micah,” she heard the panic rising in her voice as she rushed to stand next to him with her arms around him. He was going down. “Micah?” and then she was screaming for Ryan.

  Shane staggered under Micah’s weight. Everything was moving slowly.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Shane saw Ryan turn. He wouldn’t get here in time. She felt Micah’s body go stiff with what she guessed was pain and hoped she could break the fall a little.

  He had a heart attack. Time was playing tricks, and the excruciating slowdown had been replaced with speed by the time they hit the floor.

  Ryan was there saying her name, and somehow, she was being pulled away. Ryan was talking to Micah, listening to his pulse. His fingers went under the older man’s jaw for a moment before he sprang into action. Hands locked together; his arms ridged; Ryan counted out the chest compressions.

  “One, two, three, four. Breathe.” Then he knelt to breathe into Micah’s mouth.

  “One, two, three, four. Breathe.” Tess was beside him, counting silently. She moved into the rhythm of the CPR. She took Ryan’s place to breathe for her uncle while Ryan continued the compressions.

  Hotel staff ushered the crowd back. Someone helped her stand, saying words she couldn’t understand. Her eyes were glued to Ryan and Tess, working together.

  Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed and drew louder as it got closer. The wail preceded a flurry of activities. Help had arrived, and paramedics took over Ryan and Tess’s positions as they loaded him into the ambulance.

  Tess and Michael rode in the ambulance. Shane sat wedged between Ryan and Drew in the back seat of the Escalade. This ride was quite different from the last. Their bodies swayed against hers, feeling the twists and turns as the driver kept pace with the ambulance and it’s screaming lights.

  You’re not supposed to do that. She thought. The words rose to her lips, and she stopped right before they slipped from her mouth. She thought of reprehending the driver. The thoughts circled in her mind. You’re not supposed to follow an ambulance. Of course, they were not following the ambulance out of curiosity. They were following Micah to the hospital.

  Shane searched for Ryan’s hand. He let it slide from his lap into hers, and obediently intertwined his fingers with hers. She squeezed, wanting the touch to relay words that wouldn’t quite form in her mind. He squeezed back. The driver had turned off the strip. He followed the ambulance on the well laid path to the emergency room, stopping a car length behind it. The driver’s face was tight and worried.

  The ambulance door burst open, paramedics moving fast. They had Micah on the gurney. Shane watched as the wheels dropped, the paramedic team was moving as one as they raced through the open doors into the ER. Her mouth dropped open with the realization that there was a man on top of Micah still doing chest compressions.

  One, two, three, four, breathe.

  One, two, three, four, breathe.

  Micah wasn’t breathing.

  Tess came next, running behind the men with her face drawn and eyes red.

  Ryan’s hand slid from hers, leaving emptiness where his palm had been moments before. Then he and Drew were out of the car and moving toward the entry doors. Ushered along by a small woman in scrubs, she held up her hands to prevent them from following. Shane could hear her talking. “Here, come this way.” Gentle words with steel actions “Come this way.” Keep out of the way.

  “Miss,” The driver was talking. Shane hadn’t moved.

  She smiled, a reflex action, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. How much is it?”

  He was shaking his head and saying something that didn’t make sense.

  He repeated it. “No charge today Miss. I hope your dad is okay.”

  She smiled calmly. Shock surrounded her like bubble wrap, keeping her protected from what was to come. She wanted to tell him; Micah isn’t my dad, he’s just a nice man I just met. But that was too many words, and her mouth didn’t want to say them. The thoughts blurred in her mind and slipped away so she couldn’t remember what she was going to say in the first place.

  “Thank you.”

  “Good luck.” He called after her. “I hope he’s okay.”

  Her mind echoed the statement. I hope he’s okay too.

  The door closed behind her, but she couldn’t remember closing it. When she turned, she caught the tail end of the Escalade as it slipped out of sight.

  “Bye.” She wasn’t moving as fast as the boys. They had disappeared into the bright light of the ER. It had bold letters- Capital E and Capital R.

  She moved out of the driveway made for ambulances, a turnstile circle designed for quick arrivals and quick departures. She wasn’t as fast as the others. It was as if the slowdown of the time she’d experienced at the hotel lobby had infected her limbs. The boys. Why was she calling those grown men boys? Those grown men had hauled ass into the emergency room with Micah. She would wait in the lobby. Instead of following the Capital E and R sign, Shane followed the smaller one with an arrow that directed her to the lobby.

  The waiting room was the lobby with hot coffee and worn furniture. She would wait for news, wait for good news she amended. Good news. The words echoed in her mind, and she began to pray. Somehow, the prayer felt more like begging, and she hoped he could read her thoughts because the tears began to fall, and the lump in her throat made the words stop altogether.

  She waited dutifully for forty-five minutes before Ryan slipped out of the ER to fill her in. The tears had dried on her face, and she hoped they didn’t show or that they did. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. She was worried about him. She knew how this family mattered to Ryan. Her heart ached when she saw his face.

  “Hey.” She moved in close, wanting to hug and hold him, he leaned into her but did not take her in his arms. His hands closed on hers.

  “Hey.” His voice was hoarse and pained.

  It hurt her heart to hear him sound that way. “How is he?”

  Ryan took a deep breath before he spoke. His eyes shimmered with tears. “Not great. As I understand it, he’s been dealing with cognitive heart failure for a while now. The doctors advised him against this trip, and he ignored their best advice.”

  “Oh no,” the words slipped from her lips as he went on.

  “They’ve taken him in for emergency surgery. It’s not good. Tessa is so distraught. She wanted him to come but didn’t realize the physical strain the trip would put him through.”

  Shane slid her hands from his and moved into him, hands on his back, stroking and pulling him to her. “Michael and Drew are blaming themselves.” Ryan leaned into Shane, accepting her warmth and comfort. His rigid spine and tight shoulders slumped into her, curving around her as he slid his face against her neck. “He’s been managing his illness mostly on his own. He believes hard work and a balanced diet is the cure for everything. He came into this trip, thinking," Ryan's voice cracked" that sleep, and sunshine would cure his weak, worn-out heart.”

  His words drifted into ragged breathing, and he let her hold him.

  "Ryan?" It was a nurse, the slim one with a gentle voice. "They're taking him in for surgery. The others want you would want to come back before they take him.”

  He did. Ryan turned without a word and retreated into the Emergency room behind the nurse.

  Shane waited a while longer uncertain of the etiquette. What do you do when your client has a heart attack during a big meeting? Do you sit in the waiting room during his emergency surgery?

  She waited a while before she texted Ryan.

  “Checking on you”

  She waited.

  “How is it going?”

  “I'm worried.”

  “Ry?”

  He didn't reply to any of her texts.

  She waited an hour longer than she thought she should before she called the Uber.

  Shane approached the woman at the f
ront desk. “I think it’s time for me to go. Would you let my friends know I waited?” The words fell flat. It felt wrong to stay and wrong to leave. The nurse nodded, “Of course.” and turned away to answer a ringing phone.

  She felt sick for them. Waiting without knowing what was going on inside was killing her.

  Shane called the Uber to take her back to the hotel. She was creating a to-do list in her mind. After all, doing something was better than waiting. Shane moved through the automatic doors.

  The sun was setting, changing the day from dusk to dark as it burned a final trail of fire across the sky. The tension in her body shifted as she walked, her skin drinking in the desert heat. Her fingers itched for pen and paper, wanting to extend the relief her body felt from the weather to her mind by emptying it of all the thoughts. Focus helped. Taking care of the emergency helped her let go of the worry she’d been wrestling with alone in the waiting room.

  The phone buzzed in her hand. Notification, the Uber driver was five minutes away.

  Shane dug in her purse for a pen and pad. She’d abandoned all the things she usually carried to downsize to this little purse for the trip. Stupid. Her fingers closed on a pen, no such luck with paper.

  The Uber driver pulled up in a white Tahoe. She hadn’t ordered the XL. She didn’t’ care. Shane slipped into the front seat beside the nondescript white driver. He was friendly and chatty, carrying the conversation as the city lights blurred. Later, when she tried to remember what they, or he had talked about, she could not recall.

  The front desk staff had changed while she was gone. The young shining faces were not the ones who had been here during Micah’s heart attack. Shane checked in at the front desk, making arrangements to send food up when the others arrived.

  It was a light meal- Deli meat with an assortment of bread, fruit, water, and hot tea. She was feeling all at once, exactly right, and exactly wrong in her choices. She didn't have to update the staff. They were aware a patron had been rushed out, sirens blazing.

  Shane stepped into the elevator to ascend to her room and checked her phone. Nothing. Maybe his phone was dead. The elevator doors opened, and a trio group of chattering girls waited for her to exit before entering. One wore a sash and crown, proclaiming her status as a bachelorette.

  Shane could not stop her fingers from texting. Hi, how is he? How are you??

  She paused, not confident at all that she should have left the hospital. I’m at the hotel. I made arrangements for a light dinner to be delivered to your rooms when you return.

  I'm thinking of you. The words fell short of what she wanted to convey. She felt incredibly far away.

  She moved down the hallway, her footsteps silenced by thick carpet leading to her room. Shane slipped her keycard into the door and was rewarded with the green light. Her eyes burned with tears. Why the hell wasn’t he texting her back? She dialed his number and reached his voice mail. “Hey, I’m worried. Call me back.”

  She would worry about tomorrow. She moved into the darkened room, leaving the entry light burning. She was so tired. She collapsed onto the king-size bed pulled the duvet around her shoulders. Not bothering to kick off her boots or undress, she let sleep overtake her.

  She woke to voices in the hallway, carefree and noisy. Her body was trembling with the waking exhaustion that comes after too much stress and little sleep.

  Shane checked her phone to discover that she had missed two calls and a voice mail from Ryan. She’d been asleep for an hour.

  With fumbling fingers, she struggled to retrieve the voice mail; shifting in the bed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the long dark mirror across the room. She looked rumpled and weary from lack of sleep; her hair was a tangle of untamed curls. She waited for the voice mail to play.

  “Hi, Shanie.” His voice was tired and worn-out, but hopeful. She heard the hope before he spoke the words. "Micah made it through the surgery. He’s in intensive care now, but the doctors are positive. They’ve got him under close watch. The night nurse is a dolly.” Shane heard female laughter in the background. “We all are grateful she’s on watch tonight, and he’s her number one priority.”

  The words were for the nurse, not for her. She wasn’t bothered. Her lips curled into a smile. That boy was a charmer. He lowered his voice, "I'm sure you're asleep now. I'll call you in the morning." He had an audience. She could tell in the space between the words. "Thank you," there was a pause “for everything.” And he was gone.

  Shit. She couldn’t believe she’d missed the call. She wanted to go to him, to be with him. She wanted to sleep in his room, to be there when he returned, but she didn’t have a key to his hotel suite. She didn’t even know if he was leaving the hospital.

  As relief flooded in, so did hunger, and suddenly, she was ravenous. Shane fumbled through her memory of her day, to find the last source of nourishment and landed on the Neapolitan pizza. It had been delicious. Her belly rumbled again.

  Shane scanned the room for a menu or the hotel handbook that recommended good food or just-food. At this point, anything would do. She found the room service menu. Shane sought comfort food and ordered hot tea, chicken strips with ranch, and sweet potato fries. It would be ready in twenty minutes for pick up or delivered in an hour. Pickup, please.

  Stripping down, Shane slipped out of her boots and allowed her achy feet respite.

  She slipped into the shower and washed the day away. Twenty minutes later, she was clad in yoga pants, an oversized sweatshirt, and flip flops. Her damp curls twisted into a knot on the top of her head. She had no desire to impress.

  CHAPTER 5

  Unveiled

  S hane descended the hotel’s tower to the ground floor and found the brightly lit snack bar. The place was packed with hotel and casino patrons. A girl behind the counter nodded at her and took Shane’s room number.

  “It’ll be a few minutes. If you’d like to have a seat, I’ll call you when it’s ready.” The girl handed her a steaming to-go cup with her hot tea.

  Shane smiled and nodded, moving out of the way to wait for her dinner. She found an out of the way table. Shane sank into the chair and observed the snack bar for what it was, a fishbowl.

  Outside the snack bar, patrons saw quick food options, liquor, smokes, whatever. The marketing was so strategic that she hadn’t even registered the eating area or patrons inside. Inside provided the snack bar shoppers a clear view of the front doors to the hotel and the hotel lobby.

  It was a lovely haven to watch people. Shane curled her fingers around her cup and breathed in the steam from her jasmine tea. She was grateful for the good news. While Micah wasn’t out of the woods, he was through the surgery. She’d heard the relief in Ryan’s voice, and because of it, she pushed her worry away. Shane went over her earlier caretaking to-do list. She’d cared for their clients, provided food and time to walk through the emergency. She was on top of the weekend schedule, ready to fill the next need. She was good. It was good. This was time for her to unwind.

  Shane watched people go by as she sipped the tea, testing its heat. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she told herself, she and Ryan would figure out the next steps of the deal. That would have to wait for now.

  She caught movements out of the corner of her eye and turned to see the counter girl approached her with a to-go container in hand. Shane smiled at her, and reached for the box, "thank you."

  “No problem. Enjoy.”

  Shane slipped her a five in exchange for the container, and the girl’s smile widened “thank you.” She said as she turned away.

  The day was ending on a much higher note than she thought it would. Shane sat for a moment more in the snack bar, building energy to re-enter the steady stream of partiers and gamblers. It seemed they were all out now. That was when she saw him. Ryan moved through the front doors, talking to the bellman. Relief and joy flooded her.

  Shane’s lips curled into a smile, and she stood, raising her hand. His name on her lips before she realized he couldn’t see h
er. Shit, she hadn’t even realized the snack bar had seats until she’d come in tonight. He was turning away from the doors waiting with his outstretched hand reaching for someone. Shane followed his arm and outstretched fingers with her eyes.

  It was Tess. He was reaching for Tess.

  Shane followed his outstretched hand with her eyes, and saw Tess reaching back. Shane shook her head to clear the onslaught of thoughts. She wanted to watch what would unfold. Tess looked tired and worn out. She did not take his hand; instead, she moved into him. Into that tidy nook under his arm, which appeared to be warm and waiting for her- a side hug. The kind you give your cousin at their bar mitzvah. She was pressed into him now with her arms wrapped around his waist, and his arm hung casually around her shoulders.

  Shane stood still. Her feet planted to the ground. Wait. Just give him a minute.

  Shane knew how it felt to be where Tess stood, arms around his narrow waist. Close enough to feel him breathe, to hear his heartbeat.

  Now, it was her heartbeat that rang in her ears.

  The voice inside her, the same one that implored her to wait, somehow wise and calm spoke. Friends, just friends at the end of an exhausting day. That’s all.

  That’s all. Shane watched as they moved across the hotel lobby in tandem toward the elevators, and realized her feet were moving. She was not moving fast enough to catch them, only to watch them.

  They stopped in front of the elevators. The area was suddenly devoid of gamblers and travelers. Ryan and Tess stood alone. Tess remained close, tucked under his arm. Then she turned to face him, her hands on his waist, in space Shane had occupied only hours before.

  Tess was taller than Shane and when she leaned in close, she didn’t need to stretch up on tiptoe to match his height. Shane watched them together like that for a moment. They stood with a sliver of space between them, before Tess closed the gap to meet his lips, as she kissed him