"I swear to fucking God if you puke in this cab I will punch you in the neck! Stop being a *!"
"Hey!" I yelled, trying to be heard over the screams. "HELLO!"
The screams continued and the three of us moved into the kitchen so we wouldn't wake Gavin.
"You're a mother for Christ's sakes! It's just a little blood. Will you stop screaming?"
"LIZ! HELLO!" I yelled again, once we got to the kitchen.
Drew was laughing but I knew those screams. And hearing Liz mention the word "blood" freaked me out a little. Was Claire bleeding?
"Drew, call Jenny," I said quickly.
A few seconds later I heard ringing through my end of the phone call and the sound of Jenny’s voice over Claire’s screams and Liz’s yelling. I hung up since I wasn't getting anywhere and turned to face Drew.
"Awww, I love you too, Snuggie!"
I punched Drew in the shoulder and indicated that he should get to the point by giving him the finger.
"Hey, baby, what's going on? Why is Claire screaming?" he asked, pulling the phone back and hitting the speaker button.
The screaming and arguing burst into the room and we all winced.
“Claire’s got nice boobies," Jenny said.
I rolled my eyes.
"Baby, focus. What is going on? Where are you?" Drew asked her.
"I'm dying! Oh my God, I'm going to bleed to death in a cab that smells like pee and curry!"
Why the fuck is Claire bleeding in a cab?
"Claire had an assident. Axiscent. She's got a boo boo," Jenny slurred.
"Alright ladies, Butler General Hospital. No, don't pay me; just get the hell out of my cab."
***
Drew and Jim stayed at my house with Gavin and I raced to the hospital.
What if Claire had a freak garbage disposal incident and lost a hand? Or a really heavy meat cleaver fell on her leg and they needed to amputate? My house was not wheelchair accessible. Fuck! Could you buy wheelchair ramps at Walmart?
By the time I made it to the emergency room, I sorely regretted leaving Jim and Drew back at the house. I was stuck in a room with three drunken women. One of whom was sobbing hysterically about orphaning our son while the other two knocked shit over and yelled random things to people who walked by.
"Excuse me sir, do you know where we can get an x-ray of the stapler stuck in her vagina?" Liz asked an orderly that walked by as she pointed her thumb at Claire.
I gave the guy an apologetic look before focusing my attention on Claire.
"Baby, it's fine. It's just a little cut on your finger. Two stitches really aren't that big of a deal," I told her as I held her in my arms and rubbed her back.
I snapped my fingers at Jenny and Liz who were now in the corner of the room trying to get rubber gloves on their heads. They gave me innocent looks, smacked each other and kept giggling.
"Not a big deal? Not a big deal?" she said loudly. "They asked me if I had a living will. I almost DIED tonight!"
I chuckled, but quickly masked it when she shot me a dirty look.
"Claire, that's normal. They ask everyone that," I reassured her.
"I concur, do you concur?" Liz asked.
"Not helping," I growled.
"Not caring," she replied before turning back to the supply cabinet in the room.
"What if I died? My baby would be alone," she sobbed.
“Um, hello? Father, standing right here," I reminded her.
"Fine. But what if something happens to both of us? They could ship him off to my Aunt Gertie the hoarder who talks to her curtains and eats soap," she whined.
I grabbed her face in my hands and wiped away the tears, giving her a soft kiss on the lips.
"Okay, if there's a natural disaster tomorrow and neither one of us is here, I'm sure your dad wouldn't mind stepping in. Why are you so worried about this right now?"
"They asked me if in the event of an emergency, someone could administer Last Rites to me. They thought I was going to die tonight, Carter. This is serious!" she cried. "What if my dad has a heart attack tomorrow or an asteroid lands on him when he's walking to his car after work?"
No more Sci-Fi channel before bed for Claire.
"I swear to you that they ask everyone about Last Rites. But would it make you feel better if we get something in writing so you don't have to worry about this? We can make a list of people that is ten pages long if it will make you feel better."
She nodded happily and threw her arms around my neck.
"Thank you so much, baby. I love you more than a hooker loves free VD testing day at the clinic," she told me drunkenly.
I rubbed her back and shot dirty looks to Liz and Jenny when I saw that they’d taken over the dry-erase board with important hospital phone numbers that hung on the wall. Instead of “Order Meals” it now said “Order Hookers”, and instead of “For a Chapel Visit, ask a nurse” it now said “For a Happy Ending, ask a nurse.”
The doctor walked in then with Claire’s discharge papers and a prescription for an antibiotic. He explained everything to us and turned to leave the room.