You Had Me at Hockey (Bears Hockey #2) - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,22

tomato, and olives in a dressing of hummus with Greek yogurt and lemon juice.

“Hummus,” Sara croaks. She grabs her coat and leaves.

I take care of the bill as fast as I can and catch up to Sara on the sidewalk, my mind spinning like a pinwheel in a hurricane. “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head. “I think I’m having an allergic reaction. I’m allergic to chickpeas.”

I blink. “Oh Jesus. The hummus.”

“Yes.” She covers her face with both hands. “I didn’t look at all the ingredients in it.”

“How bad is this?”

She uncovers her face and my eyes widen at seeing her lips and eyelids swollen.

“Holy shit.”

She closes her eyes. “I need to go to the hospital. It’s anaphylaxis. It happened to me once before.”

“Hospital. Jesus. I don’t even know where the hospital is.” I glance around the narrow street. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“Um…I don’t know. Maybe we can get a taxi.”

“No.” I pull my phone out. The way she’s talking, like she can’t catch her breath, we don’t have time for a taxi. My cousin Chris has a peanut allergy and this happened to him once when we were all up at the lake. He had an EpiPen, luckily. I call 911 and ask Sara, “Do you have an EpiPen?”

She leans against the brick wall. “No. I used to, but I never needed it, so I stopped carrying it.”

“Shit.” I tell the 911 operator where exactly we are—the address of the restaurant is displayed clearly on the building, so that’s good—and what’s happening. “She’s having trouble breathing.”

“My fingers and my feet are swelling up too.” She holds up her hands. “They’re itchy. So is my mouth.” She looks scared, like she’s going to cry.

The operator asks if I can make her comfortable and elevate her legs.

“Uh…we’re on a sidewalk. I’ll try.”

I whip off my long coat and set it on the sidewalk then help Sara sit, her back against the wall, her legs over my lap. It’s not very elevated but it’ll have to do. I wrap the coat around her since her legs are bare.

“Dizzy,” she mumbles.

Christ. Jesus Christ. How long is this going to take? Our first date and she’s going to die? Holy fuck.

I rub her hands with mine and speak softly to her. “You’re okay. The ambulance is on the way.”

She nods.

A couple pass by on the sidewalk. They glance at us and keep going. Probably think we’re drunk.

I slide an arm around her shoulders, trying to comfort her any way I can. I know how to do CPR but Jesus, it better not come to that.

We hear the siren long before we see the ambulance. It comes cruising down the narrow street, lights flashing off the buildings, and I jump up and wave to them. They come to a stop blocking the street, but who cares, and the EMTs jump out and hustle over to Sara. I feel such a sense of relief that they’re here, my legs almost give out.

They ask all kinds of questions, assessing her lips and tongue, asking her to say her name, talking about urticaria and intubation and hypotension. They get her into the ambulance and ask if I’m coming with.

“Uh…”

Sara lifts a hand. “Please.”

Shit. “Okay.”

They slap an oxygen mask on her face and start an IV to give her epinephrine as we speed to the nearest hospital. While listening to her heart and lungs, they have to take her dress half off and holy shit, I try not to look as the EMT unzips it and pushes it down to her waist, revealing scraps of sheer black lace. I avert my eyes and hold Sara’s hand until we arrive at the hospital and pull into a loading bay. They lift her out and wheel her inside. And I freeze.

I don’t want to go into a hospital.

I could smell it when the sliding doors opened. I can see people in scrubs and stethoscopes moving around inside. Sick people. Injured people.

I’m reliving the time around the accident. I don’t remember the first ambulance ride because of the concussion. I have only hazy memories of dark and light, voices and sounds at the first hospital I was taken to in Swift Current. I remember the sense of urgency in everyone around me, doctors and nurses, while I floated wearily, too tired to care or understand. Then they transported me to Regina, to a bigger hospital, and once I was more stable, to Winnipeg. I spent months in the hospital there