Waiting on the Sidelines

My mom hugged me, again making me wince in pain. My dad just stood at the foot of my bed, holding his hand over his mouth, trying to hold it together.

“I’m ok, mom. I’m ok,” I was reassuring her. What the hell?

“Oh my god, baby. We had no idea,” she leaned back, wiping her own tears and then mine. Grasping my hand, she also reached for my father’s. We sat there still for a while, just linked together.

We were finally interrupted when a doctor with a clipboard walked up to my bedside, flipping through paper and chewing gum. “Hi, Nolan,” he was more chipper. I wasn’t sure if I liked that either. “You are a lucky girl, you know that?”

He leaned over and listened to my heart and helped me forward to listen to my back while I breathed. “You wore your seatbelt, and that saved your life, you know that?” he continued. Lifting the blue gown I was somehow now wearing, he showed my mother the bruising on my chest and ribs from the impact of the seatbelt. I spaced as he started explaining the burn marks from the air bag and before he was done speaking I interrupted.

“Where’s Reed,” I stared at my father, knowing he would be the only normal person here with me now, the only one who would get me the information I needed to know.

“I’ll go find him, honey. I’ll be right back,” he gave a half smile and tried to hide the pain in his face from seeing my injuries. He left my curtain world and I watched the spot he had been standing until he returned.

My dad didn’t come back for almost 30 minutes. When he did, he had the answers I was desperate for. He had talked to Buck and said Reed had two broken ribs and they were working on setting his right arm. I gasped at the thought, air leaving my lungs. My dad smoothed my hair back and reached to give me more water. “He’s going to be here overnight, honey, but he gets to come home tomorrow. He’s going to stay at his mom’s. But he’s going to be just fine,” he said, trying to keep me calm.

I let a single tear slide down my cheek, not even bothering to wipe it. How could he be fine. He can’t throw. How the hell did this happen?

“The doctors said we could take you home tonight,” my mom slid in to sit next to me, pushing a cold wash cloth on my head.

I just shook my head no. I didn’t want to go. I couldn’t bare the thought of going without Reed. “No, please. I have to stay. Please!” I was begging. “It’s a hospital, I’ll be fine here. Please!”

My voice was hoarse and my cheeks were sticky. I was sure I looked homeless, my hair ratted and my face dirty from crying. I watched as my parents exchanged glances, looking from me to one another. Finally, they relented, explaining they had to check me out so I would have to stay as a guest, sitting in Reed’s room.

“I’ll pick you up early tomorrow, OK?” my dad kissed my head while my mom helped gather my bag of belongings. I cringed as I saw her good dress, cut in two in a plastic bag. But she picked my chin up and smiled.

“It’s just a dress,” she smiled. “It gives me an excuse to buy a new one.”

I just squeezed her hand again. Not really wanting to spend the night here in my loaner gown from the hospital, my mom worked her persuasive magic and talked one of the nurses into giving me a set of old scrubs. They were maroon, but at least they weren’t open in the back, a step up from the gown I was wearing now.

My parents left and I stood in the hallway by Reed’s room holding my phone wearing flip flops my mom bought at the gift shop. I couldn’t seem to get my legs to move, so I just listened as Buck explained he would be back tomorrow and he would drive Reed to Millie’s house. Millie had left just minutes before; I missed her, which was probably lucky as I’m sure somehow what happened has only made me a step lower in her eyes.

Buck stopped in the hall as he left, looking down at his phone and then pausing as he got closer to me, looking up and giving me a soft smile. “Nolan, sweetheart,” he gave me a big hug and I started shaking. “Shhhhhhh, it’s ok. He’s going to be just fine. He’s strong, my boy.”

He gave me a wink and said he’d see me in the morning and I started to slide to his room. I barely made it around the corner, silent, and I saw his face, still blank. He was looking out the window at nothing. I slid closer, setting my phone on his small table and then pulling the wooden chair over to his head side of the bed. I curled my body up into the tiny chair and reached for his left hand, his right one buried under a slick, white cast. His entire right arm was held up with bars and chains, and he looked so uncomfortable.