Chapter 10
When Stacey opened her eyes, all she could see was white—a harsh, too-bright wash of light. Her breath caught in her throat as she wondered if she was dead. But then beeps crashed through her consciousness, and the low hum of voices surrounded her. She blinked hard, but the shapes around her only darkened a little, never coalescing into real objects.
“She’s back. Stacey, can you hear me?”
“Yes.” Was that her voice? It was more like a croak. Totally unrecognizable.
“Do you know what day it is?”
“Tuesday. Was I in an accident? It feels like a dream.”
“Yeah, you’re right. On both counts. But don’t worry, you’re going to be okay. The doctor’s coming in and he’s going to check you out.”
Injuries? Oh yeah. Her brain had been swimming so fast that the vague, uncomfortable feeling had seemed like background noise, but when she focused on it, it roared to life. Pain. It blossomed along her right leg, curling up insidiously to the right side of her ribs and spreading until her entire body flamed with it. She gasped, and the friendly man who had been speaking to her patted her hand.
“It’s okay, we’ve got you. This will make you more comfortable, but it will also let you sleep.”
There was a little twinge in the back of her hand, a cool sensation as if someone was pouring chilled water into her vein, and then a blanket of comfort settled softly over her. Her eyes closed.
* * *
When she woke this time, it really felt like waking. The beeps were fewer now, not as many voices, either. Her head was foggy, probably from medication, but at least she was conscious. Body one giant ache, head full of cotton. Wow, she was in great shape.
She looked around. Hospital room, but not of the comfortable variety, if there was such a thing. This one was austere. There was the usual medical bric-a-brac along the bedside, an IV pole with those little machines that controlled medications, that kind of thing. A bedside table with a phone was there, too, but there was no recliner, no couch, nothing more for visitors to sit on than one hard plastic chair.
“I must be in the ER.”
Her voice broke the quiet, bringing her back to herself a bit. That was right. The pickup truck had sideswiped her. She didn’t even know how she’d gotten here, though she guessed an ambulance had been involved. She was alive, but she was alone.
Damn. She picked at the threading edge of the white hospital sheet. Well, at least her fingers still worked. Her knuckles were rough and reddened, probably from the air bag.
She had lived and worked in Atlanta for almost two years. Her family lived miles away, up in North Carolina, but never before had she felt this isolated in the city. She had friends, of course, but nobody whom she could call on in this situation. They all had their own lives, their own problems. Who would come rushing to the emergency room just to sit by her side in the middle of the night?
Bree would have, but she was in Hawaii with her new husband. Hannah would want to, but she couldn’t leave the kids in the middle of the night. Justine, Kelly, Tasha? No, they weren’t close enough for Stacey to bother them at this time of night.
The bland white room went wavy as she looked at it through unshed tears. Even though she and her parents weren’t on the best of terms, for a moment she really just wanted her mom.
A knock on the door came.
“Yes?”
A nurse, who seemed to belong to the friendly voice from before, poked his head through the crack in the door. “Oh good, you’re awake. The doctor’s tied up with another patient, so in the meantime, do you feel like a visitor? He’s been sitting out here for two hours now.”
Stacey’s eyes widened in surprise. “A visitor? Yes, but who is it?”
“It’s me.” Rob stepped through the door.
Stacey’s heart thumped a little harder. Even through the haze of pain and drugs, she still couldn’t pretend to be unaffected by him. It was maddening. “Rob? Why are you here? I mean, it’s good to see you, but . . .”
“I was calling you to see where you were. The EMS tech answered, and asked if I knew who you were. They couldn’t find any identification before they loaded you up, so they asked me to meet them at the hospital. I hope you don’t mind.” Rob shoved his hands in his pockets, and he stood close to the door, as if unsure of his welcome.
“That’s really nice of you. Of course I don’t mind. Do you want to sit down?” She indicated the hard-backed chair at her bedside. The dull throb down her right side was becoming less dull every minute, but politeness—and the fact that Rob would come to the hospital for her so late at night—won over.
“Thanks,” he said, and eased onto the chair beside her.
For a moment, there were no words between them. Stacey didn’t know where to look, so she settled for a spot just above his left shoulder. There was a scuff mark on the wall there.
“Sorry,” she said, when the silence got to her.
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I saw your car; clearly the other guy was at fault.”
She shook her head. “I’m not talking about the wreck. I promised you that I’d give this a shot. And here I am, only a few days in and laid up already.” Her gaze fell to the speckled industrial flooring. “I guess my training might be over, at this point. I’ve got no idea what is going on with me physically, but recovery is bound to take a while.”
A furrow appeared between Rob’s brows. “Don’t say that. You can’t make assumptions until you’ve got the whole story.”
She wanted to respond, but a knock on the frosted glass door interrupted. It slid open.
“Ms. Hough? I’m Dr. Calhoun. I’d like to discuss your condition.” A slender, dark-skinned man entered with a polite, terse wave.
“I should go, give you some privacy.” Rob stood.
The words were out of her mouth before she even realized she was saying them. “No, please stay.”
He stopped. “Are you sure?”
Stacey gave a quick glance to the doctor, who was shuffling through a large file in his hands. “I’m kind of fuzzy-headed from the meds, and I don’t really want to be alone. Do you mind?”
Rob sank back into the chair. “No. I’ll stay with you.”
“Thanks.” She wanted to reach out, grab his hand, but she tucked her fingers beneath the sheets instead.
Afraid to meet the doctor’s—or Rob’s—gaze, she trained her sights on the wall just past the doctor’s left ear.
“I know you don’t feel like it now, but you were pretty lucky.” Dr. Calhoun gave a somber nod her way. “You do have some bone bruises on your right leg, and some soft tissue injury. With the swelling, it’s difficult to determine whether there’s a small fracture or not. But you won’t need any surgery, as long as everything heals properly.”
“That’s . . . good.” She wasn’t so sure that it was, but it felt less bad, somehow. She didn’t know what to think. Her brain was a swirling morass of confusion and unease.
“You’ll have to see orthopedics. We’ll set you up with an appointment with them tomorrow morning. If there is a break, you may need a cast for the leg.”
A cast? Stacey’s mouth went bone-dry. “I guess that means I can’t put weight on it?”
Dr. Calhoun shook his head. “No. You won’t want to, anyway. It’ll be pretty painful for a while.”
“Now I regret that third-floor walk-up. So they’ll see me tomorrow. Do I have to stay here overnight?”
“You suffered a concussion, but we can release you if you’ve got someone who can stay with you and monitor you for signs of further brain injury. Since you lost consciousness, it’s something we need to keep a tight check on.”
“What if I don’t have anyone?” She hated saying it in front of Rob, but what choice did she have? ”Does that mean I have to stay here?”
Dr. Calhoun’s handsome face—much too serious to start with—sobered further. “It’s our extreme recommendation that you be monitored for the next forty-eight hours.”
Her fingers curled into the white fabric of the sheets as her eyes burned. So stupid. She should be grateful to be alive, thankful that she hadn’t died in that wreck, happy that she’d scraped by with only minor injuries. Instead, she was sweating about a couple of days stuck in the hospital. The thought of being cooped up here, alone the whole time, made her want to scream.
No help for it. She opened her mouth to admit it, but—
“She’ll stay with me.”