“Hey,” she said, sounding breathless. “Nick. I’m so glad I found you. Becky told me you’d be here.”
Nick stood, skin thrumming. “Is it my dad?” he choked out. “Is he okay?”
She smiled. “He’s awake.”
* * *
Nick wasn’t allowed in the room for a long time. He paced back and forth in the waiting area, ranting and raving about his rights, telling Mary he was going to call the police and have everyone in the hospital arrested for barring him from his father. Mary smiled sagely and reminded him that the last time he’d interacted with the police, he’d been nearly naked and handcuffed.
Which, of course, set Nick off all over again about his rights. He decided loudly that he was going to consider filing a lawsuit, then immediately apologized, saying he would never do that because Cap might be out of a job.
Mary snorted. “I don’t think you’d have to worry about that. In fact, go ahead. I can’t wait to see what comes out during discovery.”
They had to make sure Dad was breathing okay, and if his brains were scrambled or not. Those weren’t the technical terms used, but Nick was pretty sure that was what they’d meant. He wondered if his dad would have amnesia and would even remember having a son. Nick decided that life wasn’t a telenovela, and he should consider being optimistic.
The problem with trying for optimism, especially when one is a teenager, is that it’s rather difficult to do in a hospital when one is not allowed to go into the room. Renee had told him that if Dad was doing well, they’d try to remove the tube from his throat. Nick had asked if it would be like pulling out Excalibur, only with more saliva and a potential for vomit. It was then she’d told him he couldn’t go in right away, and he figured he was being discriminated against.
It took close to two hours before Renee came back for him. By that time, he’d damn near worn a groove in the carpet. His head had started to hurt worse, but Mary had brought his medication with her, and he’d been able to catch it before it went too far. Weirdly, a generic painting had fallen off the wall during hour one, making everyone jump. Five minutes later, the TV hanging in the corner had gone on the fritz, refusing to turn back on to the home renovation show that had been playing.
But Nick forgot about all of it when he saw Renee.
He stopped, hands shaking.
She beckoned him with a finger.
Somehow, he got his legs to work, wobbly though they were.
Mary followed him and took his hand when they approached Renee.
“The doctor will come in and fill in the blanks for you a little later, but it looks all right for now. We need to continue to monitor for potential pneumothorax. And he’s going to be sore for a little while, in his chest and throat. It’s best if you don’t let him talk too much for the next few days, though with the way he was demanding you be let into the room, I don’t know how successful that’ll be. Maybe help him keep it to a minimum?”
Nick blinked, sure he’d misheard. “Me? He wanted me? He remembers who I am? He doesn’t have amnesia?”
“Oh, boy. No, Nick. He doesn’t have amnesia. His memory is a little spotty about what happened, but that’s it.” She shook her head. “He told us if we didn’t let you in the room in the next five minutes, he was calling for his chief to arrest us all.”
Nick gaped at her. “Then why are we standing here? Do you want to go to jail? Because my dad will make you!”
“They’re obviously related,” Renee told Mary.
“You don’t know the half of it. Nick, why don’t you go ahead. I’ll follow in a moment. I should call Rodney back. Let him know the good news.”
Nick barely heard her. He grabbed Renee by the arm and was tugging her toward the elevators, asking her if Dad could go home today (no), if he was allowed to eat a cheeseburger if Nick brought him one (no), and if he still had a catheter bag attached to him (yes—which, so gross).
* * *
He held her arm almost the entire way, only letting go as they approached the open door to his dad’s room. Nick