“I know,” I said, but not as confidently as I’d have liked.
I rubbed the palms of my hands together quickly and silently prayed that she would be there. We pulled up to the entrance of the hospital and jumped from the cab, leaving Jason to handle the transaction. I ran through the emergency doors and frantically searched the blackened faces of those who’d already arrived, but none of them matched my January’s. My heart flipped in my chest.
I ran up to a nurse. “I’m sorry. Do you speak English?”
She gave me a sympathetic smile and searched around the desk around her, finding a girl sitting at a desk nearby. She grabbed the girl’s sleeve and said something in French. The girl jumped up and took in my sooty clothing.
“Yes? I speak English.”
“Oh, thank God! I’m looking for a girl. She was in the fire.”
“What is her name?”
“January MacLochlainn,” I told her.
The girl typed on her keyboard and began shaking her head. “I’m sorry but there is no one here by that name.”
“What?” I asked in disbelief. “Are you sure? Can you check again?” I asked, my body back to trembling status but this time in exponential form.
“Of course,” she said and typed yet again. The expression on her face told me she’d gotten the same result.
“No, I’m sorry, sir. I have no one by that name. Can you describe her for me? There were several patients who couldn't be identified.”
“Uh, she was wearing a black dress,” I told the nurse. “She’s about five ten, or, uh, two meters tall, long brown hair, green eyes.” She’s amazing, unselfish, intelligent, sexy as hell. Her mere existence justifies mine.
“Just a moment,” she said and ran to the back.
Jason came up to me, his eyes asking me the news.
“They don’t have anyone in their system with January’s name,” I explained, feeling like my body was on autopilot. “She’s checking the patients who couldn’t be identified.”
Jason nodded.
I nervously paced the length of the receiving desk, running my fingers through the length of my hair over and over. Jason sat in a nearby chair, his thumbs drumming his thighs. Both our gazes were riveted by the doors for what felt like hours before the nurse came through with a smile on her face.
“She’s here,” she told us.
“Thank God,” Jason told me, slapping his hands to his face.
The worry, anxiety and helplessness I’d felt for the past hour came flooding from my body and I collapsed to the floor, unable to hold myself up. She weakened me in every way possible.
“Christ,” I whispered to the tile below me. My eyes filled with unshed tears and I fought to keep them in. I needed to see her.
Jason helped me as I struggled to my feet.
“How is she?” I asked when I had control of myself.
“She’s in a room and resting comfortably. She was burned slightly on the hip and is awaiting a physician.”
“Can I see her?
“Are you her spouse?”
“No, her- boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait here until she’s released then.”
“Fine,” I said, falling into a chair by the ER entrance.