Please don’t tell me, “I’m sorry, but she didn’t make it.”
“Don’t know. She’s on her way to the hospital and I just turned onto your street. I’ll be out front in thirty seconds.”
He hung up, yelled to Paulie and stepped out onto the sidewalk just as Jonesy pulled up in his cruiser, lights flashing and siren blaring. He’d barely gotten his feet in and the door closed before the cop banged a U-turn and sped toward the hospital.
“Have you heard anything?”
Jonesy shook his head. “I was late to the scene. Supposed to help with traffic control, but I heard Beth’s name and offered to get you to the hospital.”
“The cab…you said it was hit by a bus?”
“It wasn’t going fast, so it’s probably not as bad as you think, but it hit her side of the car.”
Kevin couldn’t respond to that because his stomach seemed to be clawing its way up his throat. Her side of the car. Beth had to be okay. And their baby, too.
He doubled over, his arms wrapped around his stomach. Would the baby be okay? Beth was far enough along so even if she went into labor, the baby would survive. He was almost sure of it.
But not so sure he could suck in a full breath.
He was opening the door as Jonesy slid the cruiser to a stop at the emergency room entrance. “Thanks.”
“Good luck, man.”
He sprinted through the double doors and straight to the admitting desk, barely refraining from slapping his hand on the glass when the nurse took a few seconds to slide the window open. “Beth Hansen. She was in a car accident and—”
She held up a hand to cut him off. “Are you family?”
“Umm…” Kind of?
“I’m sorry, sir. You’ll need to wait in the waiting room.”
She started to close the window. “Wait! She’s pregnant. I’m the father. I’m the baby’s family.”
Her expression softened and she took her hand off the glass. “You can’t go in right now, but I do know the baby’s heartbeat was strong.”
“And Beth’s?” Because the baby—he loved the baby—but right now it was just a bundle of dreams and possibilities that kicked his hand when he touched Beth’s stomach. But Beth—Beth was real and right now and…he loved her.
God, he loved her.
“They’re working on her now, sir. Is there anybody else who should be contacted? Her family?”
His throat contracted and he shook his head until he could speak again. “Her parents live in Florida. I’ll call them. She doesn’t have anybody here, though. Just me. She had to fill out some preregistration forms for having the baby and I’m listed as her contact. All she has is me and I promised her she wasn’t alone anymore so if you’d just let me go back there and—”
“The doctors are with her right now. I promise somebody will come talk to you as soon as there’s news.”
It felt like hours that he sat in the hard chair, his elbows propped on his knees so his hands could hold his head up. He stared blindly at the ugly tile floor until he felt a hand on his back. He jerked upright, but it was only Terry.
He was still hugging her when Mike and Lisa walked in, thankfully sans children. No doubt the rest of the family would descend upon him shortly because the Kowalskis didn’t go through anything alone. Thank God.
“Do you know anything?” Lisa asked, rubbing her hand up and down his arm.
“No. The nurse said the baby’s heartbeat was strong, but that they’re working on Beth. I don’t know what that means.”
Joe and Keri showed up five minutes later with his parents in tow, so he had to do the hug and lack-of-news routine all over again. Then he sat and resumed staring at the tile.
Ma sat next to him and squeezed his knee. “I called Shelly and Artie. They’re on their way to the airport, but there’s a storm going on and…well, they’ll be here as soon as they can. And I’ve been praying for her since Paulie called.”
“Thank you, Ma.”
“Figured I should since we all know you’re not very good at it.”
No, but he was doing his fair share of bargaining with whatever higher power might be listening. He left the form of address open, though, because now wasn’t the time to risk alienating anybody up there who could help.
An old-fashioned clock hung on the waiting room wall and he listened to the tick tick tick of the second hand until he thought he’d go mad. His family wasn’t helping. He knew they meant well, but when a boisterous group like the Kowalskis were so silent a person could hear a clock tick…it scared him.
Too many ticks of the clock later, a doctor entered the waiting room. Tall and graying around the temples, he exuded an air of confidence, but it was the fairly grim set of his mouth that Kevin focused on. He stood, barely aware of his family standing with him, his mom’s arm hooked around his waist.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said and Kevin’s knees buckled. He would have hit the floor if Joe hadn’t pushed him backward into his chair. “But the nurse didn’t get your name.”