Jo-Jo: Why are you in the ER again?

Abby: Maybe sprained my ankle at volleyball practice.

Jo-Jo: You do that a lot.

Abby: What can I say? I’m clumsy.

Jo-Jo: Need me to pick you up?

Abby: Naw, my dad’s here. It’s fine.

Jo-Jo: I’m on my way anyway. I’ll bring gummy bears.

Abby: you always know how to cheer me up.

I don’t know why I thought of those messages, sometime around our sophomore or junior year. It was the year I got my license, I remembered, and I’d do anything to drive around.

Just now, however, I couldn’t drive fast enough.

Abby sat in the front seat next to me, cradling Zoey. Abby had protested to putting her in the car seat and insisted on holding her, no matter what I said. We didn’t have time to argue—I hadn’t even had time to put a shirt on. The lifeguard had evacuated the pool almost immediately, and I had rushed into the women’s locker room to fetch Abby’s things while she and Zoey went to the truck.

“Ow,” Zoey whimpered, tears streaming down her face. “Hurts so bad, Mommy.”

We were all in our suits still, and it was a miracle we had remembered shoes. Zoey was wrapped in a towel, and the bleeding didn’t look too bad. She was conscious, so I told the lifeguard not to bother calling 9-1-1.

Abby, on the other hand, was frantic.

“Can this truck go any faster?” she screamed at me.

“I’m already doing ten over the limit!” It was hard for me to remain calm, but somehow my military training took over. “Just hold the towel to her head. She’s still alert, so it can’t be that bad.”

“Just get us there!” she yelled again.

Luckily, the county pool wasn’t too far from the hospital, and we made it in just under five minutes. Zoey was remarkably calmer than her mother, who didn’t even wait for me to get the door, but instead rushed into the sliding doors of the Emergency Room, calling for help from one of the nurses just inside.

The parking lot was blessedly empty for a holiday, but by the time I had parked in the three-story garage and rushed up to the entrance, still puling my shirt over my head, the hospital staff already had them back to an examination room. A smiling nurse looked at my dripping shorts and showed me back to one of the common areas cordoned off by blue curtains.

Abby sat on the hospital bed, holding Zoey, while a nurse in Scooby Doo scrubs gently examined the back of her head. I pulled up the only chair in the room next to them.

“Owie!” Zoey said again.

“It’s not bad,” the nurse said, holding gauze to Zoey’s head. “She might need stitches, but I don’t think there’s a fracture. We’ll have the doctor look at it, just in case.”

“Who’s on shift today?” I asked as Abby nodded, still wide eyed and panicked. I put my hand on her leg to calm her down, but though her shoulders relaxed slightly, it didn’t seem to help much.

The nurse finally looked at me. “It’s Dr. Harrison.”

“Oh shit,” Abby breathed. She looked at me while I gritted my teeth, focusing on the blue curtains. We hadn’t seen my father since the night at dinner. I hadn’t even bothered to talk to both of my parents in three weeks. Sleeping dogs were best left sleeping, in their cage, I had figured.

Blinking at us, the nurse frowned, and eyed me closer. “Hey, I know you.”

“Yeah, Dr. Harrison is my father,” I answered her, trying to control the anger building up inside me. Doctors couldn’t refuse to treat patients, but this one he might.

Glancing around nervously, she told Abby to hold the gauze. “I’ll, just, uh, get Dr. Harrison now, then.” She backed out of the room slowly. “Keep her awake, please.”

“What are we going to do?” Abby whispered to me, still cradling Zoey, who had stopped whimpering and was quickly nodding off. Abby shook her gently, trying to keep her alert.

“It’ll be fine,” I tried, horribly, to lie. “He’ll treat her, and he won’t make a scene. Not here, at least.”

Abby bit her lip. She looked like she didn’t believe me one bit.

I didn’t have time to answer, as my father appeared from behind the curtain.

“Well, we meet again in the ER, Abigail.” All smiles, as he always was in his doctor persona, he greeted Abby without even looking at me. “What are the odds, twice in two years?”

His level of sarcasm made my brain spin, and Abby just stared at him. She was just as dumbstruck as I was by his rude comment.

“May I see her?” he asked and gently took Zoey into his arms. Pulling a tiny flashlight from his shirt pocket, he shined it in one eye, then the other. “What happened, exactly?”

“We were at the Lowan,” Abby said slowly. “Zoey jumped off the edge, and Joey caught her, but her head hit the side of the pool.”

My father glared at me briefly, saying nothing. He handed her back to Abby, ignoring me again.

“Well?” Abby prompted. “Is she okay? Does she need stitches?”

He pulled up a rolling chair and sat on it. “I don’t see signs of a concussion.” He swiveled around, and Abby let him look under the gauze. “It’s a very tiny laceration, but yes, it will need stitches, mostly due to her age. He looked at the chart up on the computer to his right. “She’s almost two, is that right? Pretty active?”

Abby nodded.

“Well, I’ll order an x-ray, just in case there’s any additional damage. Their skulls are still forming at this age, and we want to make sure that isn’t interrupted.”

“Yes, please,” Abby told him. “I’d appreciate that.”

He stood and typed into the computer for a long, silent minute or two. “Alright, the nurse will be in to take care of you and show you to the x-ray room. You’re lucky you came in on such a slow day. We should be able to get you out of here rather quickly.”

“Thank you, Dr. Harrison,” Abby said quite demurely. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s my job,” he waved her away, lifting the curtain. “Just hope this will make you see that my son…well, maybe you need to reconsider letting him around your child if he’s going to be this dangerous.”

“We were at the pool!” Abby blurted as Zoey began to fidget in her lap. “Accidents happen. You’re a doctor. You should know this!”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve other patients to attend to.” He flashed a brilliant smile and disappeared.

“Oh my God!” Abby turned to me. “That man…why does he hate me so?”

I shrugged, but my hand curled around the arms of my chair. “I often think the same thing.” Zoey reached out for me and I took her, careful to keep the gauze pressed to her head. “He’s always been like that.”

“In high school, he seemed to be less of an ass.”

“Maybe back then he was preoccupied with my brothers’ successes? Yes. I think he was disappointed when I didn’t go on to be a lawyer or a doctor like Mike and Kelly.”

“But you’re still young,” she protested. “We both are. Your brothers had time to figure everything out.”

I shook my head. “I never knew what I wanted to be, and that really bothered him, I think.”

“That’s no excuse to treat you like crap.” As soon as she said it, the nurse bustled into the room with a tray laden with utensils and a syringe.

“We’re just going to give her something to relax her, then we can take care of that injury, okay, Abby?”

“Alright.” Abby looked at me, then to Zoey. “Are you okay with Daddy? So Mommy can go change?”

“Daddy,” Zoey said softly, her little face still a mask of pain.

I looked over Zoey’s head at Abby. That was the first time she’d actually called me Daddy. It was music to my ears.

The nurse stared at Abby, clearing her throat and breaking the magical moment. “We’ll only be a few minutes.”

“I’m still soaking wet, I’d hate to cause a hazard,” Abby protested. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Longingly, she looked at Zoey.

“It’s fine, I’ve got her,” I assured her, tossing her the truck keys. “Just go change.”

She nodded and slipped out of the area.

As the nurse prepared the shot, I cuddled Zoey to my chest. “Daddy, huh?” I whispered to the second most beautiful girl in my life.