A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,16
a crack in that sucker.”
Emerson sagged against the wall. It was like his worst nightmare come true—all the little fears he’d imagined over the years when Rhys would go climbing or cliff-diving or jumping out of an airplane. He’d gotten better at subverting his anxiety, but after his parents’ accident, he’d become a bit of a basket case again, and Rhys had avoided the topic for a long while, probably recognizing how upset it made him.
“Then what happened?” Emerson held his breath, almost afraid of the answer, but maybe he’d already heard the worst of it.
“He lost his footing.” Emerson’s hand slammed over his mouth. “The line was anchored and caught his fall. But he hit the side of the mountain pretty hard, which means his body took the brunt. So between that and his head…”
“Holy fuck.” Emerson straightened. “I need to see him. Can I see him?”
“Of course.” Martin steered him through the double doors, past the nurses station, and then to his room in the ICU.
As soon as he saw him, Emerson screwed his eyes shut and propped his hand on the corner of the table near his bed. His head was bandaged, as were his arms, most likely from abrasions or…hell if he knew. He was hooked up to an IV and some other machines that were beeping.
As he approached the bed, the nurse fiddling with one of the apparatuses turned to greet him. “Don’t worry, he’s resting comfortably.”
Rhys was asleep, so Emerson couldn’t even see his eyes and read the emotions in them. Or maybe Rhys was too out of it to even understand the gravity of what happened yet.
He reached out to touch his hand, to feel his warm skin, the only indication that his friend’s blood was still pumping inside him. He refused to think of that other memory, of the sterile lab and the cold metal table.
“Has he said anything yet?” he asked, hoping the situation wasn’t graver than it appeared.
The nurse threw him a sympathetic look. “He’s sustained head trauma, so rest is most important now. We’ll know more in a couple of days.”
Holy shit. He sat down hard on the chair behind him. Seeing Rhys in an unresponsive, vulnerable state was gut-wrenching.
“Rhys, I’m here,” he said to him, even though he was pretty sure he couldn’t hear him. Still he persisted. “Your mom is on her way.”
Suddenly, he remembered he needed to bring Rhys’s mother up to speed.
“I gotta call Mrs. Lancaster,” he said to Martin as he swept by him to the hallway.
He caught Mrs. Lancaster as she and Carl were on standby for a flight. He hoped they’d be able to board it. He tried to lighten her burden as he gave her the information that Rhys was resting comfortably and being taken care of. No way did she need to be a nervous wreck on the plane.
“They’ll fill you in better on his condition once you get here.” Emerson knew she was a worrier too, but she sounded steadier now, possibly because Carl was with her. She thanked him for the call and said she would see him in a few hours.
A woman was standing near Rhys’s bed when he returned to the room, and Martin introduced her as Jill, the climber Rhys had been on the mountain with. She looked haunted as she recounted the accident.
Emerson imagined him falling, the line catching him midair as he hit the side of the mountain. It definitely could’ve been so much worse, except it felt pretty awful now with Rhys lying unconscious while they spoke of the incident. He stepped back, allowing Rhys’s friends more space to visit with him before they both said their goodbyes, promising to visit again tomorrow.
After hanging in the room for a couple of hours, watching him breathe, Emerson drove home to check on his siblings just as his aunt was loading them in her car in the driveway. “I was going to text you. I’m having them stay over at my place tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. They love time with their cousins.” She placed her hand on Emerson’s shoulder. “Besides, someone else needs you right now.”
Could she see it? How he was undeniably cracking inside? Splintering into a dozen shards of emotions? Hope and grief and fear and worry… Could she tell how his feelings had shifted dramatically since that kiss in his kitchen last week?
Fuck, that seemed worlds away now. Had it really only been a handful of days since their lips and