Feels like Rain (Lake Fisher 3)

38

Abigail

I rush through the emergency room doors and find the lobby full of rescue workers, their wives, and townspeople I’ve seen here and there. The waiting room is also full. Ethan’s mom is sitting in a chair, chewing on her fingernails. I’d called her as soon as Little Robbie came to get me, and I assume she drove herself here.

I rush over to her. “How is he? Have you heard anything?”

She shakes her head. “He’s in surgery. He has a ruptured spleen, and a really bad gash on his side.”

“Okay,” I say. “So, we wait.” I sit down on the floor next to her.

A woman sits right in front of me, and she’s clutching two children against her like she’s afraid to let them go. She’s all wet, and her hair is stuck to her face. Her children are wearing ho

spital-branded pajamas, and she sits there shivering.

“Are you all right?” I ask her.

She nods as her eyes fill with tears. “We are now. He saved us. He saved all of us. We would have drowned without him.” Her teeth start to chatter. “He just came right out there, no life jacket, nothing. And he carried us all out.” She lets out a wet laugh. “He carried us all at once like we weighed nothing.” She looks down at her baby then at her young son. She runs a hand tenderly over his head. “He’s a hero.”

I look at Ethan’s mom. “Is she talking about Ethan, do you think?”

Suddenly, the fire chief, Ethan’s father-in-law, rushes into the room. Tears are streaming down his face. “She’s going to be okay,” he says to anyone and everyone. He sinks heavily into a vacant chair as if his legs won’t support him anymore.

Little Robbie Gentry has come into the waiting room too. I motion for him. “Who is he talking about?” I ask.

The whole room is silent. Everyone looks away.

“Imogene,” Little Robbie says. “It was Imogene, his wife, in the second car. The second person Ethan saved, the woman in the submerged car, the one who wasn’t breathing… That was Ethan’s late wife’s mother.”

The whole room remains silent. No one says a word.

Suddenly, Derrick gets up, grabs Ethan’s mom and jerks her up into a hard hug, whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” over and over.

She pulls back from him, glares into his eyes, and slaps him across the face. He goes absolutely still, his face drained of color aside from the red hand print she just left there. She strikes him again, and no one makes a move to stop her.

When she finally quiets, he grabs her hand and draws it against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I should have done better.” He sinks into a chair again.

The doctor comes into the doorway and calls Ethan’s name. His mother and I get up, but she walks out into the hallway. The doctor has no choice but to follow.

“Those people don’t deserve to know his status,” she says, and her voice breaks. I take her hand and give it a squeeze.

Jake and Mr. Jacobson join us in the hallway with the doctor. And that’s fine with me.

“Ethan came through the surgery just fine,” the doctor says in one big rushed breath, obviously aware that we are all anxious to know his status. “I’d say his condition is serious, but I feel confident, barring any other issues, that he will recover.”

Ethan’s mom teeters on her feet. I hold her tightly. Jake wraps his arm around Mr. Jacobson’s shoulders as he lets out a heavy, joy-filled breath. “Thank God,” he breathes.

“If you hadn’t gotten to him when you did…” the doctor tells the two men, trailing off.

“He never should have been in the water to start with,” Mr. Jacobson grouses. “Hard-headed ass.”

The doctor smiles. “He has a broken arm, but we were able to stop the bleeding on the ruptured spleen, and we stitched up his side. He needed fifteen units of packed cells, so if anyone feels like donating blood, we’d be grateful.”

“We’ll donate,” Mr. Jacobson says. “They’ll donate,” he adds, tilting his head to indicate the packed lobby and waiting room. He has that look on his face like he’ll hold every single one of them in a chair while they do it if necessary.

“So, we should just wait?” Ethan’s mom asks.

The doctor nods. “From what I hear, your son is a hero. He saved two children, two women, and one rescue worker, all of whom could have certainly drowned if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time and willing to do whatever was necessary. You should be very proud.”