“Hanging up on you first, Nightie—”
Hee-hee. I got there first. Dislodging four cats took some doing, but eventually I was on my feet and stretching before heading up to bed. My phone beeped, and I looked down at the screen. He’d sent me a picture of his noodles. Ass.
I worked hard that week, trying to stack up some work ahead of time before the big day. Monica had transitioned from assistant to junior designer since coming on board last year, and she’d been instrumental in helping me, and the entire team, move seamlessly into the new arrangement we had with Jillian’s new schedule. Monica still worked closely with me on most of my accounts, but she was beginning to take on some small projects on her own, usually with me looking on in an advisory role. She’d been handling my clients while I was on wedding lockdown. Knowing she’d be keeping things up in the air and moving while I was gone was a huge help, but I still wanted to make sure I could get as much done as I could before our important day.
By the end of the week I was exhausted, but feeling like I’d gotten a little bit ahead. I had a meeting at four thirty with Jillian that I had a feeling would end in drinks afterward. I had that feeling because it was how we ended almost every single week when she was in town, so I felt pretty sure about that feeling. The fact that I was carrying a bottle of wine was also a tip-off. I was headed down to her office, arms full of binders and my always-present colored pencils, along with the wine, when I heard her raising her voice to someone on the phone.
“Oh my God, are you sure? What does that mean? Jesus, what am I supposed to tell her?”
I poked my head around the corner, not wanting to interrupt her but not wanting her to think I was eavesdropping either. “Should I come back?” I whispered. She looked at me, and when my eyes met hers the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Her eyes were wide, and panicked, and filling with tears. The room narrowed, my field of vision now only including her face and that phone. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice trembling. Because I knew, you see.
“Caroline, sweetie, it’s Benjamin,” she started, and my blood turned to an icy burn. It was only later that I realized I’d dropped everything I was carrying. Including the wine, which dropped squarely on my big toe. I had a bruise under the nail for months.
“What’s going on?” I heard someone say, and the someone was me.
“I don’t know, he just called and—”
“Give me the phone, Jillian,” I said, crossing to her in an instant and grabbing the phone out of her hand. “Where is he? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know anything yet, Caroline. I—”
“If you didn’t know anything you wouldn’t be calling Jillian, and she wouldn’t be gray right now. What’s happened to Simon?” I asked, my voice now rising higher and higher. I sounded shrill, I sounded desperate. I sounded scared to death.
“I don’t know much, one of the guys he was with called me. I’m listed as his emergency contact still with National Geographic I guess. There was an accident in one of the caves today. It’s so hard to understand what happened; the guy doesn’t exactly speak fluent English and the reception was so spotty and—”
“Goddammit, Benjamin, what happened?” I yelled, slamming my hand down on Jillian’s desk.
“He fell. He was on some kind of bamboo scaffolding, and the wire he was attached to wasn’t secure, and he fell. I don’t know how far. Enough to maybe break some bones.”
“Broken bones. Okay, maybe broken bones.” I exhaled, clutching the desk now as my knees wobbled. “Okay, okay,” I repeated.
“Not just that, Caroline, he was knocked out by the fall. There’s been some kind of damage to his skull. They airlifted him to a hospital, but as far as I can tell he’s still unconscious. I don’t know much more than that. I’ve been trying to reach one of the doctors treating him but—”
“Monica!” I yelled down the hall. “Get in here right now!”
“Caroline, what are you doing?” Jillian asked, and I held up a finger.
“Benjamin, I need to know where he is. What city, what hospital. I need a doctor’s name. I need his fixer’s name and his contact information,” I said to Benjamin, just as Monica was running into the office.
“Caroline, good lord woman, a simple Monica come on in here would have been—”
“Do you still have my passport information from when you helped me book our trip to Spain?” I asked, telling Benjamin to hold on.
“Yeah, yeah I should,” she said, looking from me to Jillian. “What’s going on?”
“I need you to book me on the first flight to Hanoi. Just give me an hour to get home and grab my passport. Text me the information when you have it.”