“Yeah.” I command my mouth to smile, for her benefit. “Just taking a lazy day.”
“Well, you’ve certainly earned some of those.” She laughs, but her brow remains dipped in worry. “Your father’s taking us out for dinner tonight. Feel like getting out to join us?”
“Um…is it okay if I pass this time? I just…I’m all snuggled up in here, and at the best part in this book.”
She nods with an understanding smile. “Of course, sweetie. I’ll bring you something home.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I roll back over, hiding my face and discontent from her.
“Echo?”
“Yes?” I don’t change positions. I’m not sure what she’s about to say, but I know I can’t be looking at her when she says it.
“Honey, you’re so much your father’s daughter it scares me sometimes. He worries over everything, too—worried himself to the bottom of the bottle for a while. You remember that?”
She probably thinks I don’t, since I was so young. But either way, this is the first time she’s ever mentioned it. So now, shocked, I do roll over to look at her.
“Didn’t change the outcome of a single thing, except our trust in him and how bad his head hurt the next morning,” she continues as she stands in the doorway, her inner strength shining more brightly than I’ve ever seen it before. “You—my amazing, empathetic daughter—are wasting your time with all the worrying you do. No matter how miserable you make yourself, it’s not going to change anything. So stop. Just be happy, Echo. Take care of you—because everything else is gonna take care of itself, with or without your fretting.”
A long, silent pause stretches between us, unspoken words being shared until I’m able to find my voice.
“Thank you, Mom. I’ll try.” This smile is genuine. “And just for the record, I like to think I’m a lot like you, too.”
~~~~~
“There you are! Can you tell me your name?”
I blink, my sleepy eyes blinded by bright, invading lights.
“What?” I croak out the word, clearing my groggy throat.
“Your name. Can you tell me it?” the man asks again, hovering over me.
Um, no. You’re a stranger—an annoying one, who’s talking way too loudly and looking way too real for a dream.
“No, no, stay with me. Come on, open those eyes again,” he says, shaking my arm. “BP’s spiking, respiration’s twenty-eight! Run the cars over, man, just get there!”
The strange, screaming guy in my nightmare puts something over my mouth and nose. That wakes me up.
“Just breathe, nice and slow.” His voice is lower now, in what I suspect is an attempt at trying to soothe me. “Work with the medicine…calm, deep breaths. You’re in an ambulance, but you’re going to be okay. We’re almost to the hospital.”
Did he say ambulance? He’s insane. I’m in my bed, reading a book, waiting on my brother or Kingston to call or text.
I try to sit up, which turns out to be a bad idea. This pain and constraints feel very real.
Oh shit.
I look around, terrified and confused by what I see. I really am in an ambulance, and I can’t sit up because I’m strapped down to a stiff board. And something tight around my neck is threatening to choke me.
I wiggle my legs as much as my restraints allow, then close my eyes in relief. Thank God I can feel them. I can also feel that there’s something very wrong with my left arm; the pain is almost unbearable. And my head? It throbs like it may have taken on a wrecking ball.
I open my eyes again, and my vision is better, albeit fuzzy. Frantically, I search this speeding, scary box I’m trapped inside with just this bossy guy. Where are my mom and dad? Do they know where I am? What the hell happened?
“You did good. Real good. We’re gonna unload you now.” My rescue man smiles. “Your family’s on their way.”
Next thing I know, I’m being pushed quickly down a hall lined with what must be 200-watt lightbulbs overhead. People begin to surround and run alongside us, rattling off numbers and letters that sound like military code everyone but me seems to understand.
“Seventeen-year-old female, fell down the stairs in her home. Mother found her unconscious and called it in. Came to en route. Disoriented, limited responses, BP 142 over 90. Family’s on the way.”
I catch some of that—enough to start piecing the puzzle together, at least. I fell asleep, didn’t drink my tea, took down the bell, was so upset…
I bite back the guilt when I think of what I must’ve put my mother through, finding me like she did.
I’m pulled from my somber thoughts when we reach a room and two new strangers grab the board under me, the jostling sending my pain level soaring.