Fourteen
Emerson
“Jesus, this is a hell of a way to meet Emerson’s boyfriend,” I hear Jace say. My brother, the turd.
“Who cares as long as Auntie Em is okay?” Mack volley’s back. “Plus, he’s cool. If it weren’t for him, who’s to know how Josey would have handled the situation.”
“Oh, Jace, when are you going to learn to quit putting your foot into your mouth?” my mom says. I, for some reason, still can’t open my eyes, but I can feel Saint’s fingers entwined with mine. “It’s nice to finally have a face to the name. I can’t believe we weren’t around.” I can hear the angst in her voice.
“Oh, Nan, it’s okay. I think it all worked out. Now, if she’d just wake up, that would be the best,” Josey says.
“Sweetheart, I need you to show me those pretty eyes of yours.” Saint’s voice is lower than the rest. Instead, I squeeze his hand. My eyes are refusing to open, even though I’m trying my hardest to finally wake up.
“Ah, I see our patient hasn’t woken up yet. That could take a bit with a concussion. Honestly, sleep is best, but the bad part is, we can’t release her until we get another MRI once she’s coherent.”
“What’s the diagnosis? I’ve been around her a handful of times, and she’s almost fallen at least three times. This wasn’t her just being clumsy or stumbling.” Saint is practically seething.
“You’re not wrong about that. Vertigo is what I’m calling it, but more on the vestibular neuronitis. She must have been suffering from vertigo for some time now.”
“That explains why Auntie Em seems to suddenly go off balance,” Mack responds.
“It absolutely would. Now, this could go away in as little as a few weeks or as long as a couple of months. Depending on how she heals, I am going to schedule her an appointment for an ENT. Until then, we let her rest, and when she wakes up, make sure you let the nurse know. She’ll page me,” he responds.
“Thank you, Doctor Earheart,” I hear my dad say. He hasn’t said very much, but his tone sounds mournful.
My eyes flutter. “That’s it, sweetheart, you can do it. Your family’s here. I’m here. Josey could really stand to see her aunt right now.” I guess that’s what helps me wake up.
“Sweet pea,” I murmur, the light blinding me as I blink my eyes open.
“Thank goodness.” Saint kisses the side of my head before turning off the overhead light. “Can you tilt the blinds some?” he asks my brother.
“Thank goodness, Auntie Em.” I lift my arms up, letting her know she needs to get inside them.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her ear, hating like hell she was alone and had to witness something like that.
“No way. What if you had been alone? No one would have found you until Uncle Saint came home.” Apparently, my family really has talked about anything and everything.
“Uncle Saint, huh?” I tease.
“Well, no one else could answer their phone, and Dad was out fishing.” She snuggles into my neck, and I let her be.
“I’m okay. I heard what the doctor said.” I look at Saint. Relief is written on his face, and something tells me I’m going to be under a very watchful eye where he’s concerned. My parents walk to the other side of the hospital bed, which, gross, I hate these places, and I’m ready to get out of here as quickly as possible.
“I’m going to go let the nurse know you’re awake. Maybe I can catch that doctor of yours, and we can get you released, baby girl.” Dad kisses my forehead, nods his head to Saint, and scoots out the door.
“When can I leave?” I ask
“That depends on your MRI, and you won’t be going home alone, so figure out where you’re staying. My place or yours,” Saint grunts.
“Shit, I ordered groceries. I bet they left them outside,” I remember.
“Nope, I stopped by after Saint was with Josey and lugged them inside. He gave me the keycode, and it’s not put away as meticulously as you would do it, but the groceries are done. The rest, we left for the big guy,” Jace states.
“I really created a lot of work for you guys. I’m sorry.” Josey may still be lying practically beside me on the bed, but Saint’s hand hasn’t left mine for a single moment.
“I’m going to go make a phone call to Cruz. He called a while ago. You need anything, sweetheart?” I never did answer his question.
“Nope, just your place, and maybe some more sleep. I’m really tired,” I respond.
“Well, you get the all-clear from the Doc, and I’ll make the rest happen. If you’re tired, sleep. The fastest recovery from a concussion is sleep.” Yep, he’s definitely bringing out bossy Saint.
“Okay, I’ll do that.” My eyelids are already drooping. Add the fact that my family is surrounding me, and sleep is all that’s on my mind.