Tyson: I’ll see what I can do. Give me ten minutes. Where are you at?
Me: ICU waiting room. HURRY.
“Well—?” Luke’s broken face is looking at me like I hold the key to all of life’s answers.
“Tyson is working tonight. I’m hoping he can pull some strings and get us in there earlier, or at least find out some more information. Did the doctors come down and tell you anything else? Anything at all?”
Luke falls into the chair next to me. “Just that they know she has pneumonia. To be honest, I didn’t understand all the medical garbage the doctor was throwing at us. But I understood that they are still waiting on some of the blood work to come back. She didn’t look good, Levi. She was so limp and lifeless in my arms, and I—” His words break on a deep sob before he stands up and walks out of the room.
“Levi!” My head snaps up at the sound of Harley’s voice as she runs in the room. I stand up in time for her plow into me, and I hold onto her with everything that I have. Her arms wrap tightly around my neck. “Tyson called me. I got here as fast as I could. What’s going on? Have you seen her? Have you gotten to talk to her?”
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks when I realize for the first time that I never said goodbye to her this morning. Sure, I told I loved her, but she was asleep. I didn’t get to kiss her one last time or tell her that she means the world to me. What if I don’t get to tell her that? What if something happens and the last thing I said to her was, ‘Now’s not the time for jokes, Lane.’ Gripping Harley’s shoulders, I pull her away from me, panic now in full bloom. “I need to see her, Harley. Now. I need to see her now.”
“Tyson is talking to the doctor and he’s going to get you back there, I promise. Just give him a couple of minutes.”
“I don’t have a couple of minutes,” I plead, needing her to understand how important this is to me. “What if she—?”
Just then, Tyson walks into the room with another doctor at his side. Luke comes in right behind them and we all crowd together.
“Levi, this is Dr. Byers. He’s been overseeing Laney’s care in the ICU. Dr. Byers, this is Laney’s fiancé, Levi, and her brother, Luke.” Warmth rushes through me. I want that. More than anything, I want to be Laney’s fiancé. Dr. Byers reaches a hand out to me and then Luke.
“You’ve already been informed that Laney has pneumonia?” We all nod in unison. “Okay, good. Although we’re still waiting for some blood work to come back, I believe that Laney may be septic.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Sepsis is a complication of an infection—in this case, pneumonia—and the fact that Laney’s immune system is already weak from her chemotherapy puts her at even greater risk. As soon as we find anything out, I’ll be sure and let you know right away. But for now, we’re just going to watch her closely. Her oxygen level dropped quite low a little while ago, but we were able to stabilize her.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Luke asks, his eyes filling with tears.
The look on Dr. Byers’ face softens. “It’s obvious your sister is a strong woman, and I can assure you that we are doing absolutely everything we can. But sepsis can be a life-threatening condition and Laney is very weak right now.”
“Is she awake?” I ask, desperately needing to see her.
“No, she’s not. And when she does wake up, she may be extremely drowsy and slightly incoherent, so please don’t be alarmed. But I can assure you that she is comfortable.”
“Can we see her?” I ask, knowing full well that if he says no, I’ll probably do something that could land me in jail. Dr. Byers turns to Tyson and they exchange a look.
“The visiting hours in the ICU are strict for very specific reasons, but I’m aware that you all haven’t been able to see Laney since she came in so we’re going to make an exception. Just one person at a time, make sure you wash your hands and if you feel even the slightest bit sick, please do not go in there. Laney is our number one priority right now, and we don’t want to expose her to anything that may further complicate her situation.” We all nod in agreement. “Perfect. Who would like to go in first?”
Luke and I both look at each other. Please, I mouth, not being able to recall a time when I’ve been as desperate as I am right now. We’re both dying to see the one woman we both love more than anything in this world, but I don’t waver. There is no way in the world I’m not going in there first, and Luke must see the determination in my eyes because he drops his head in resignation.
“Go. You go first,” he says, his chin quivering. When he looks up at me with a steady stream of tears running down his cheeks, I take him by the shoulders and pull him in for a tight hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper, knowing how much it’s hurting him to not be with his sister. His arm comes around my back, and he pats it twice and nods. I pull back and look at him, trying so hard to convey just how much this means to me. “Thank you,” I whisper one last time before Tyson leads me toward the ICU . . . toward Laney.
Tyson waves his badge and the doors open. The
space is quiet, the lights are dim, and several nurses are sitting in front of a row of monitors. I’m led across the room and Tyson stops in front of one of the doors. “Levi,” he says, clearing his throat. “You need to be prepared. They’ve got her hooked up to a lot of machines, but they’re all helping her.”
“Please, just let me see her,” I beg. Tyson purses his lips and sighs before pushing the door open.
“I’ll be out here if you need me,” he says, then shuts the door behind him. My eyes instantly fill with tears when I see Laney’s tiny fragile body lying in the middle of the bed with a white sheet tucked around her. My chest aches and I swallow hard as I move toward her. Both of her arms are resting at her sides and her head is propped up on a pillow. She looks so peaceful.
My Laney.
Clear tubing is wrapped around her head and positioned inside her nose. Several wires lead from one of the machines and disappear under the neck of her gown. She has an IV in her left hand, which is connected to bags of clear fluid hanging from an IV pole. I don’t bother to look at what they’re giving her because I won’t know what it is anyway, but I make a mental note to ask the nurse later. A small square apparatus is attached to her middle finger and the wire from it disappears under her covers. The room is eerily quiet minus the steady beep emanating from one of the monitors and the faint sound of oxygen as it enter Laney’s nose.
I spot a chair off to the side and I pick it up, moving it as close to her bed as I can without disturbing anything that she’s hooked up to. I sit down and take her tiny hand in mine. It’s so cold and feels so . . . lifeless. And that’s all it takes. I bury my face into the side of her hip, her hand clenched between mine, and I bawl. “Wake up, baby. Please wake up,” I sob, desperately wanting to feel her fingers curl around my hand.