I groan before taking a sip of my bourbon, now regretting my instructions to the waiter that we intend to take our time tonight.
Gracen just grins at me mischievously over the rim of her cocktail and I can imagine her evil laugh in my head. I grin back at her, figuring that perhaps the anticipation will just make it better.
Chapter 26
Gracen
While I miss the sense of urgency and importance of the neonatal unit, the sweet excitement of newborns is satisfying to me as well. As I bathe a newborn baby girl named Erika J., it's hard not to be a little sad as I reminisce about Lilly as a newborn. It's bittersweet that I'll never have another one of my own to do this with. Not because I can't get pregnant, because adoption is possible, but it just seems completely unforeseeable to me that I'll have additional children. That's not being pessimistic. It's just that Lilly is everything I could ever want and more. I don't feel incomplete in any way by not having another child.
"Gracen." I look up to see Monica standing there. We usually share the same shift here in the nursery.
"What's up?" I say as I rub sudsy warm water over the baby's belly. She strains against the sensation, opening her mouth to bawl against everything that is not the secure womb she left less than a day ago.
"You got a call at the nurses' station," she says as she walks to my side. Her hands reach to take the baby from me, and we make the transfer easily as she and I are experts at handling newborns.
I give her a smile as I dry my hands. "Thanks. I'll be back soon."
I leave the nursery and head to the nurses' station. It's not a surprise to receive a call there while I'm in the nursery. I keep my hospital-issued phone off when I'm in there so as not to disturb the babies.
I step into the U-shaped station, which sits between the nursery and patient rooms. One of the phones has a receiver sitting on the countertop, so I assume that's my call. I pick it up and answer, "This is Gracen Moore."
"Gracen, it's Josie."
"Hey," I say brightly, happy to hear my friend's voice. We haven't had a lot of time to get together lately between our opposing shifts and such. "Want to grab some lunch today?"
Her voice is calm and assured as she says, "Lilly is on her way into the ER. She took a fall and cut her lip. She's fine, but she's probably going to need some stitches. I'll be able to evaluate her as soon as they get here."
Took a fall.
Cut her lip.
Stitches.
As a nurse I know this is not the end of the world. As a mother, this means my child must be dying. "Oh God," I moan.
Josie's voice rings clear and confident. I expect she talks to many frantic parents this way. "Gracen, she's fine so you need to calm down."
"How can you possibly know that?" I snap with hysteria tinging my voice. "You haven't even seen her yet."
"Because I talked to Marek on the phone. He tried to call you but your phone was off, so he called me."
Marek says she's fine. What could he possibly know? He's been a dad for all of six weeks. I'm quite sure he doesn't understand the severity of her injuries.
"I'm on my way." I set the receiver back down onto the phone and mutter to whoever is sitting there and listening, "I've got to go down to the emergency room. My daughter's being brought in."
Someone says, "I hope she's okay," but I don't even respond because my thoughts are wholly occupied with Lilly and how badly she's hurt.
Bypassing the staff elevators, which tend to run quicker than the regular ones, I hit the emergency stairwell and run down the four flights of stairs to the emergency room on the east end of the hospital. I jog as quickly as I can through the hallways until I punch through the double doors that lead into the bay that holds all the rooms around the perimeter. This hospital is pretty state of the art, and gone are the curtained rooms that one normally associates with an emergency room. Instead frosted glass walls partition each patient's room, giving a light, airy feeling, but allowing privacy as required by law. I look around frantically for someone to make eye contact and tell me where to go. I get nothing in return because everyone is busy.
"Can someone tell me where Lilly Moore is?" I call out.
A nurse sitting in the center station lifts her head to look at me, but before anyone can respond, Josie steps out of one of the rooms to my left. I bolt toward her and she intercepts me before I can make it to the door.
"She's fine but a little upset," Josie says softly, perhaps trying to reassure as well as warn me. "It would do your daughter a world of good if you can wipe that terrified look off your face."
It takes a moment for me to absorb what she says, but it finally penetrates my fog of worry.
I take a deep breath and give her a half-assed smile. "I'm okay. I got this."
Josie studies me for a moment and seems to like what she sees on my face before she turns to enter into the room. I follow her in, but I'm not prepared to see blood all over the front of my child's shirt.
"Oh God, baby," I murmur sympathetically as her eyes come to mine. They fill with tears that immediately spill over, travel down her face, and soak into the bandage that's pressed over the top of her mouth on the right.
I can't see the extent of her injury, but my clinical curiosity doesn't matter. I need to reassure my daughter and make sure Lilly knows it's going to be okay.
I walk to the side of her bed, not even glancing at Marek, who stands on the other side. My hand goes to Lilly's forehead and I brush her hair back as she blinks at her tears. Her lower lip peeks out from the bandage, and it quivers with emotion.
"Hey Lilly Bug," I say lightly. "Looks like you got a boo-boo, huh?"
More tears spill over the edge of her eyes as she nods. When I hear a tiny sob tear free of my daughter, my heart is shredded.
I lean over the bed and brush my lips gently against her forehead, then I start to hum one of her favorite lullabies. It was always guaranteed to put her to sleep at night, and I hope it provides some measure of comfort now. Lilly takes a shuddering breath.
"It's going to be okay," I murmur. "We're going to get you fixed up, and then Mommy is going to take you home, okay?"
I lift my head so I can look at her, and to my relief, she looks a little more confident as she nods at me once again.
I keep stroking her hair, but I manage to lift my gaze up to Marek. "What happened?"
"I thought it would be fun to take her ice-skating," Marek says softly, and I can hear the regret in his voice. The fact he's feeling guilt and my daughter is in the emergency room bloodied and in pain makes me incredibly angry.
I hiss across the bed at him, "She is far too young to be ice-skating."
Marek flinches slightly, but the accusation in my voice doesn't cow him. Instead he leans across her bed and in a soft voice replies, "I was her age when I first started skating."
"And you're a hockey player," I throw back at him sarcastically.
"She could be a hockey player too," he throws right back at me, the anger evident in his voice.
"Both of you need to chill out," Josie says as she steps up to the bed. Her voice is soft but menacing as her eyes cut down to Lilly, who is staring at us with wide eyes. "She's scared enough as it is."
I take a deep breath, refusing to look at Marek. His hand comes out to rest on Lilly's belly, where he rubs in slow circles.
I lift my chin and ask Josie, "What's the extent of the injury?"
"She's got a two-centimeter laceration going through her upper lip, extending into the skin just above it. I've called in the plastic surgeon on call and he should be here soon. I can most likely stitch it up, but I figured why not have a professional do it."
Shifting my gaze to Marek, I grit through my teeth, "And just how did she get cut?"
"It was an accident," Marek explains in a hollow voice. "We were ice-skating and two little boys were chasing each other, and one of them ran into her. She went face first down into the ice and I think her tooth is what cut
the lip. It's a little loose."
My stare turns murderous. He had one job today, and that was to keep our daughter safe. He has a game tonight and wanted to spend the day with her. I thought nothing of it. Well, actually...I thought it was sweet. I'm sure Marek could have had a million things to do on his time off today, but he wanted to spend it with Lilly. I just never thought it would include a plastic surgeon needing to reconstruct my daughter's face.
Even as ridiculous as I know I'm being, I can't help but lay the blame on him. She's never been hurt like this and the math is very simple. I've had her for almost four years with nothing major happening. He has her in his care for one day and we're in the emergency room.
I turn back to Josie. My voice sounds calm and assured, and this is strictly for Lilly's benefit. "Okay, thank you. I think that sounds like a good plan."
My attention turns back to Lilly, and I lean over her once again to press my lips to her forehead. When I lift up I murmur to her, "Let's get you fixed up, baby. It's going to be okay."
* * *
--
Even though my hands are itching to yank Lilly away from him, Marek carries her in the front door. I walk behind silently, followed by his parents. Marek had called them when he couldn't get in touch with me and they had shown up at the emergency room not long after I had. They followed us back to Marek's house, probably concerned more about Marek and me than Lilly. After she was stitched up, she was perfectly fine. The scarring should be minimal, according to the surgeon, and he gave her a huge lollipop that had her smiling.
But the conversation between Marek and me was completely stilted, and it was probably evident to his parents that things between us were tense. While I didn't say another word to Marek about taking Lilly ice-skating, it was obvious to everyone in that room that I was pissed as hell about the situation.