He knew something was up, but he didn’t ask. He handed me the crutches Tiny had found.
I moved toward the guys, who were all still gathered around the table. My whole body felt wobbly, but I forced it to work right, mind-over-matter style.
“Could I speak to you, Captain?” I asked.
The guys all fell silent. They recognized the sound of panic in my voice. They all turned to watch me.
The captain heard it, too. “Shoot,” he said.
“My mother’s had a seizure,” I said.
He nodded, all business. “Is she at Fairmont?”
“They’ve taken her to Rockport County.”
The captain nodded. “We’ve got you covered, Hanwell. Get your things, and we’ll call in somebody from B-shift.”
“Thank you,” I said.
As I hobbled away, getting my bearings with the crutches, the captain called out after me, “Hanwell!”
I turned back.
“Anything you need, anything at all … it’s yours.”
Then the captain told Case to give me an escort. And to use the lights and sirens.
* * *
AT THE HOSPITAL, Josie was waiting outside my mother’s room, nursing a paper cup of tea with the tag still hanging over the side.
“What happened to you?” she said, when she saw the crutches.
“Tiny sprain,” I said. “Don’t even feel it.”
I moved toward the closed door, but Josie whispered, “She’s sleeping now.”
“Any word on the assessment?” I asked.
Josie said, “No head injury that they can see.”
“That’s good,” I said, nodding in approval.
“They want to keep her overnight,” Josie said, “for observation.”
Josie looked shaken. Her expression had that intensity people get in emergencies—when every detail matters. It hadn’t been an easy few hours, and that kind of stress is never good for you, but when you’re just into your third trimester, it’s maybe a little worse.
The sight of her gave me an impulse that I gave in to: I volunteered for a hug for the first time in a decade. “You did great,” I said, wrapping my arms around her and giving a squeeze. “You did just fine.”
“I needed that,” she said when I let go.
I smiled. “I’m out of practice.”
“But talented.”
“Go home now,” I said then. “Get some rest. You’ve had a rough day so far.”
Josie nodded. “Not a big fan of hospitals.”
“I’ve got this,” I said, trying to sound way more at ease than I felt. “I do this for a living.”
Josie took my hand and held it, and then peered at me like she was making a decision. Then she said, “She turned around, you know.”
I frowned, thinking we were talking about the seizure. “She turned around?”
“On your birthday. The day she left. She drove for hours, crying the whole time, until finally, somewhere in Arkansas, she decided to turn around and go back. She couldn’t do it, she decided. She couldn’t leave. She pulled off at a truck stop, planning to get back on the interstate going south instead of north.
“Before she even finished at the pump, she got a call from Wallace. He was just checking in. Just saying hello. But the sound of his voice stopped her. She stood there for several minutes after they hung up. Then she called it: She couldn’t leave him to face it all alone.”
“And she kept going.”
Josie nodded. “He needed her.”
“I needed her,” I said, almost a whisper.
“But you had your dad. She told herself you’d be all right.”
My throat tightened. Oh God. What if she had turned around? What if she had showed back up at our house that night? Could my life have unfolded in a completely different way?
But it wasn’t a real question. Even if she’d come back, it would have been too late. Even as she stood by the side of the highway in Arkansas deciding what choice to make, I had already made choices of my own.
There was no changing it. There was no possibility of a different story.
There was only what had happened. And how to carry on.
I looked up to see Josie smiling at me. Then she reached out and tucked a wisp of hair behind my ear. “She believed you’d be okay,” she said again. “And she was right.”
* * *
JOSIE WAS BARELY out of sight when a doctor appeared beside me.
“You’re the fireman?” he asked, looking me over.
“I’m the fireman,” I said, looking him over right back.
“She told me about you.”
He had a couple of black nose hairs poking down out of his right nostril. “What happened?” I asked, staring at them.
“Fairly common, in her situation,” he said. “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before.”
I looked up. “You mean the eye? The blindness?”
“It was