by Grea Warner
“Well, if that was the case, there wouldn’t be a second in the day when I didn’t have pangs.”
“Ry ... geez.” I swear I actually felt my face heat and flush in a matter of seconds. “Melt my heart, why don’t you?”
“Just speaking the truth.”
I brushed a dang tear away. Our hectic day, him being so far away, and those sentimental words definitely warranted a straggler or two. But at least they were warm, welcomed ones.
“What was the other reason?” I recovered with a question.
“Other ...?”
“You said one of the reasons you called.”
“Because as much as I miss you, we don’t get moments like this.”
“What? Being able to sprawl across the bed and take every pillow and blanket for myself?” I went with humor.
“Don’t get used to it.” He chuckled out a mock-stern voice. “And I am on, I swear, the hardest mattress ever. I feel every spring. So don’t tease me with all the cushy comforts of home.”
“I won’t mention what I’m wearing then.”
His moan was much more audible. “Please don’t. What I meant was, talking to you like this.”
“Hmmm. I’d still rather be in your arms.”
“Me, too,” he concurred. “For sure. But, do you know what I mean?”
I thought for a second. Yes. Nighttime talks on the phone involved soft voices, no immediate distractions, and listening to purposeful words instead of touches or gestures. It also enhanced the longing. Yes. In a strange way, it was nice.
“It reminds me of when I was in Carolina last year.” I used my soft voice and then tugged the sheet more snuggly to my body.
“Well, that wasn’t the best scenario.”
“No,” I agreed. When I had gone home for Ella’s college graduation, things were extremely strained between Ryan and me ... to the point I didn’t know if I would return to either California or him. “But it was those late-night talks about nothing that made everything all right,” I said out loud.
“Yeah.”
“Everything’s going to be all right again.”
My words were meant to comfort and reassure him, but they were as much for me, too. We weren’t currently in any kind of relationship danger, but the sadness and seemingly never-ending drama were draining and straining in other ways. I knew there were still things to plow through. And, yet, I had faith we would. Even though I missed him desperately, he was where he needed to be, and I was where I needed to be, too. Everything would be all right again ...
***
I said it, and I meant it. But life had other plans. Suddenly, it seemed like we were once again in the scary maze of Joel’s video game. Because out of nowhere, that very next day, we bumped smack, head-on into a wall. And we fell ... hard.
Chapter Nine
Admittedly, I had other things on my mind. I was thinking about the obnoxious customer Gracie had to kick out right before I left work. I was trying to remember all the ingredients I needed to get at the grocery store on our way home from camp. And I was thinking how glad I was that Ryan would finally be home for the special welcome-home dinner I was going to prepare.
So, when Zander said the kids weren’t there, I was only half-listening. I just kind of assumed they were in the back area. Then I realized the summer camp assistant was saying something about the emergency cards.
“Wait. What?” I swear I physically shook my head as if erasing an image from a screen. “Why were you using the emergency cards? Where are Sallie and Joel?”
“We, of course, called Ryan first, but it went straight to voice mail. And then, well, Kari is listed because when the kids were signed up in May, we were told all of last year’s info was correct.”
When Kari was alive—I got it. “Yeah, Ryan, he’s ... he’s midflight. The kids? Is something wrong with the kids? Where are they? Why did you need the cards?”
“Mrs. Hynes—she’s the other contact number. She headed straight to the ER. Hazel and Sallie rode with Joel in the ambulance.”
“What?” My voice rose on the news that an ambulance was called ... obviously for Joel.
“It wasn’t too long ago. Even though I probably shouldn’t have, I was trying to look up your number since it’s not on the cards. But the only two Bethany Lenays I could find was one living in Minnesota and the other was ... I forget, but it wasn’t you.”
The summer camp worker had spoken the truth. Bethany Lenay didn’t exist, since it wasn’t my real name. Hardly anyone in California or the entertainment field knew my true last name. Because I had used Lenay professionally and on my infamous Spotlight appearance, they just assumed that was it. The anonymity worked for so many reasons, except, obviously, the type of emergency situation I seemed to be in.
“I know you pick them up and, well, we know you and Ryan—”
“Yes, the whole world knows about Ryan and me,” I shouted in my stress and then practically cried, “What happened?”
“So, I wasn’t there, but ...”
Oh, flip, I was going to lose my marbles if I didn’t find out something soon. “What—”
“They were at the pool. Joel saw one of the older kids, and he was running or something and fell in.”
“Oh ... oh ...”
“Look, I don’t know the details, and I probably shouldn’t be telling you this since, you know, you’re not on the official record. All I know is ... they needed the ambulance.”
“You don’t know anything else?”
“I can’t—”
I didn’t have time to try anymore. I needed to be where I could definitely know what was going on. “Where?”
“Children’s,” he said, and I bolted out the door.
In a way, I was glad I had to drive. It kept me from being online and searching all the possible things that could happen with young children at a swimming pool. Drowning, of course, was top in my mind. Joel could swim, but if he had fallen ...
My stomach was flipping and flopping so bad. I thought for sure I was going to have to pull over and vomit. But I couldn’t. I needed to get there, and I had never been to that hospital before. So, I needed to figure out directions and manipulate through the crazy traffic, which seemed, if possible, ten times worse than usual.
I tried Ryan’s cell to no avail, getting the same voice mail I am sure the summer camp did. I wondered if they had left a message. I chose not to. I would keep calling. Besides, if he saw it was me, he would call, anyway. I wanted to call Irene, but I didn’t have her number. Never in my wildest dreams—or nightmares—did I think I would ever have wanted to do that. And Sallie. She had started pleading with Ryan around her March birthday for a cell phone of her own. Even though we both thought it was ridiculous at her age, I wished right then that Ryan had appeased his little girl. At least I would have been able to get ahold of her.
And I drove on. Somehow, I managed to do it tear-free. Most likely because I was still in a state of shock and determined to get where I needed to be.
When I arrived, I did a very quick scan of the emergency room waiting area. No one I recognized was there. Not Joel, Sallie, Irene, or even Hazel—the director of the summer camp. I didn’t allow myself enough time to wonder if it was a good or bad sign. Maybe I should have given Zander my number and had him call me if he heard anything. But he had been cautious about telling me anything. And I hadn’t been thinking straight. Gosh, I was glad I could even comprehend a little of what was going on.
I next raced to the main desk. It was an emergency room and, of course, people should be panicked and frantic, especially when it involved little children. But, even with me in that state, the woman behind the desk remained calm.
When I asked about Joel, I got an almost robotic reply. “Relationship to patient?” she prompted me when I blanked on what to say. “Aunt, maybe?”
“No,” I replied. “No. I’m engaged to his father.”
“Oh. Sorry. I’m sorry, we can’t give out any information then.�
��
“What?”
My mother took medication for anxiety, which also helped her blood pressure. I didn’t. But right then, I needed to pop one or two of those pills. I had never felt my nerves even remotely close to the prickly sensation that was covering my body, even when I had been on live television in front of thousands and thousands.
“I live with them,” I tried again. “I take care of him. I ... My name’s Bethany. Please, I—"
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you do. We’re following policies and procedures—both the hospital’s and the rights of the family.” She gave me a sympathetic smile, and I wondered if I got the one person who either didn’t know of my relationship to Ryan or was simply a rule follower.
“Please,” I said one more time.
But ... nothing. I turned around. I would say I started to walk around in circles, but that would mean I had some kind of control over my body. At least I was still standing and moving in a haphazard fashion. I decided the only thing I could do was try Ryan again. He should have landed by then.
Thank goodness, he, indeed, picked up. “Hey. Just right this second turned on my phone. Not quite a pang but—"
“Ryan, where are you?” I interrupted with haste.
“In line for the cabs. I should have probably driven. Such a world of everyone having things done for—"
Ryan sounded like Zander, babbling on. He needed to stop. I needed to talk.
“Come to the hospital. Come straight to the hospital.”
His jovial tone changed instantly. “What? Are you all right? Did you eat something?”
“No. It’s not me.” My allergy to nuts was something he held very close in his mind and one I wished he didn’t. I was very careful and responsible.
I don’t think he was completely listening to me, though, as I heard him obviously speaking to someone else on his end. “Excuse me, excuse me.”
I could actually hear people grumbling at him in the background, and I imagined he was pushing his way through the cab line. “Ryan? It’s Joel.” In order to get a quieter and more private place to talk, I stepped outside to the immediate entrance of the hospital.
“What?” His voice boomed with panic across the line. “Bethany ...?”
“We’ve tried to call you, but your phone’s been off.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I thought he was speaking to me, but by his next words, I could tell he was still trying to manipulate his way at the airport. “My son is in the hospital. I need to see him. What’s wrong?” He had switched back to me and then reverted again. “I need that taxi. Please.”
Listening to Ryan’s panicked state was not helping me. I was ready to cry or scream. The helplessness and not knowing were eating away at me. But hearing his anguish on top of ...
I heard someone on Ryan’s end tell someone else to let Ryan get the next cab, and then as the background noise became a little quieter, Ryan said my name again. “Bethany? What hospital? Where?” I hardly had the answer out of my mouth before he was repeating it to the driver and then, once again, speaking to me. “Okay, tell me ... tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”
“I don’t ... I don’t know.” I knew he would react the way he did, but I had no other answer to give.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” His unnerved voice escalated.
“The hospital won’t tell me. They won’t let me see him.”
“Bethany, what happened? You have to know what happened!”
I took a breath and started relaying what information I did have. “I went to pick up the kids from camp, and they weren’t there.”
When I completed the tale to the current point of me standing there in front of the hospital, he asked, “You still don’t know what’s wrong?”
“No. I just got here—the hospital—and called you. They won’t tell me anything because of family rights. I’m not family.” The word stung a little coming out, as I recalled Irene’s similar stance at the funeral. It also made me wonder where she was and if she had anything to do with what information was permitted. Pushing the thought aside, I continued, “I’m lucky the day camp did.”
“Geez!” He let out a long exhale as if he had been holding it in since he first picked up the phone. “Where are Sallie and Irene?”
“I don’t know, Ryan! Hazel doesn’t even seem to be here.”
“All right ... all right ... crap.” Somehow, I knew he was trying to be a little calmer just for me. “Hey ... hey, can you drive faster?” I realized he was once again talking to the cabbie. “I’ll pay you double, triple ...” And then back to me. “Bethany, can you give the phone to someone at the desk? They have to tell me.”
I started to reenter the building, not only because of his request but because I did want to be present in case something happened. I spoke honestly into the phone. “I don’t think they will. They won’t believe me. Why don’t you call, though? Call, Ryan. And if you find out something, call me back, please. Please?”
“Yeah. Yep. Yeah.” And we were disconnected.
Being in the waiting room, which was painted with bright murals and housed games for waiting children, was a tough task. It was hard for me to sit still with such uncertainty looming. So, I would periodically get up and do my own Bethany parade up and down the narrow hallway, sometimes going in the restroom and spinning around in circles in there. I felt like people were watching me, as if I belonged in a psych ward instead of a hospital for sick little ones. I’m sure some of them were awaiting news like me—whether it was their own child or a relation of other means. And I am sure they were worried, too. But they probably at least had some idea how the kid ended up in the emergency room and/or what the current status was.
I didn’t hear from Ryan and, even though I was tempted, I didn’t try to call him again. I knew he would let me know what was happening as soon as he could. And he needed to concentrate on what facts were hopefully coming at him.
Finally, after an agonizing amount of time, I spotted someone who could provide the answers to the questions I most desperately needed. It definitely wasn’t the first person I would have chosen. But she was far better than not knowing. Or, so I thought.
“Irene.” I approached Kari’s mom as she was entering the lobby from a long hallway. “How’s ...? What’s going on?”
“What are you doing here?” She seemed to hiss more than speak.
“I’m here for Joel,” I stated the obvious. “How is he? Did he hit his head? Did he take on water? Is he okay?”
“I don’t need to tell you anything. What are you doing here? Go home ... like that camp person. I made her go away.”
“I’m—”
“You’re nothing. No, you know what? You are an immature tramp ... a whore who ruined my daughter’s life. You have no rights. They called me because I am responsible and his blood.”
I knew blood didn’t make someone family and age didn’t make someone responsible. And I knew all the other words she was saying were malicious, mean, and untrue. I could take the verbal insults if only she would let me know what was going on. “Please. I need to know if he is all right. What—"
“Damn it, Irene, stop harassing her. Geez!” Ryan’s voice startled me yet brought me such relief. Knowing he was there made the situation the teensiest of bits bearable. “Where is Joel?” Standing directly with us then, he was staring down his former mother-in-law. “Irene ... I am going to blow up. Tell me where my son is.” I had never, ever seen Ryan even remotely that upset, but I knew it was with due cause.
“Ry, is he all right? Did you talk with—"
His voice calmed when speaking with me. “I talked with the hospital and just got off the phone with the camp, too. He’s okay from what I gathered.”
Swish! Breathe. Breathe.
“Oh ... oh, thank goodness.” I actually felt a little lightheaded with the pure adrenaline rush of relief.
“Irene ...” Ryan was still on his ex-in-law.
“I was coming out here to s
ee if there is someone better in charge so we can take the kid home. He doesn’t need to be near all these germs.” Her head scanned the area and her nose scrunched as if there were a thousand skunks lifting their tails, and I wondered how she ever dealt with being a mom to young children.
“I’ll find out.” Ryan took charge. “But I understand they need to keep him for a little while just as a precaution observation.”
“He’s fine,” she protested before relenting that Ryan should actually be the one who should do the questioning. “They’ll need your insurance information, anyway.”
“You can go,” he stated simply while adjusting his overnight bag on his shoulder.
“I—” she started.
“Go. I mean it. I got this, and you are not welcomed when you can’t be civil.”
I admit, I was a little shocked by Ryan’s comment. Not that Irene didn’t completely deserve it ... and possibly more. But, in the past, Ryan would have at least acknowledged his appreciation for Irene being there. I think along with everything else thundering down on his life, she had pushed him one too many times.
By the piercing of her eyes, I knew Irene fully blamed me for her ostracizing. But I ignored it and focused once again on who we all should have been—the kids. “Where is Sallie?”
“Irene ...” Ryan’s growl was at best tolerable when she didn’t answer.
“She’s with her brother and a nurse person in the room area place,” she spit out and sported another scowl at both of us. “I do all this work, and I get no thanks.” And with that, she stomped off in her red stiletto shoes because what else would she be wearing.
I know Ryan needed to take care of paperwork and, more importantly, see Joel. But I selfishly took a minute of him to myself. I adhered my body to his and felt a good part of my anxiety strip away.
Chapter Ten
Since Ryan was Ryan—a.k.a. recognizable television judge—we were ushered, without any further questioning of my status, straight to Joel’s curtained-off section, located in the depths of the hospital’s emergency room. Ryan hugged both of his kids extra tight before a doctor greeted us. It was then that we found out both the details of the accident and the medical prognosis.