“What kind of sirens?” Her son’s forehead creased in concern, his mouth turned down at the corners with worry.
Katie had never been good at distinguishing which sound was which. Police, ambulance, and fire sirens all seemed to sound the same to her. Then again, she wasn’t sure if she had ever heard any of them simultaneously, so she wasn’t sure if maybe they were all, in fact, the same. “I honestly don’t know, buddy. I don’t see smoke, so I doubt it’s from a fire truck, but it is hard to say for certain. It’s okay, Mason. This is the city. You will hear sirens a lot more here than you ever would have back at the farm.”
He gazed beyond the buildings and crowds of people around him for a moment longer, and then turned back to her, his eyes full of weariness. Fleetingly, Katie wondered if his grim mood had to do with the sirens, or if the prospect of having to hear sirens regularly was something he didn’t want to think about.
“Come on, Mason. I’ll make you a deal. We will walk one more street over and if there is no store there to buy you something nice to wear, we will take this party to Wal-Mart, okay?” She hoped for any hint of brightness to show up in his eyes, but she saw nothing beyond the murky somberness that clouded his expression.
“Why are you marrying Dad?”
If the directness of his question didn’t floored her, the sheer look of bewilderment on his face at the thought of her doing such a thing did. “Just because, Mason. We are going to be a family.”
“We already are, but all you guys do is argue.”
“Mase, it’s not like—”
“You don’t even smile. You’re sad all the time.”
“I have just been—”
“Except when we went to see Chad. You smiled then.”
She blamed herself for her son’s confusion. How could she expect him to know what to think about this whole situation when she didn’t even know what to think herself? “I don’t expect you to understand. You are a kid, buddy, so there is no need to think about all that grown up stuff.”
“You were kissing Chad in that picture. In the newspaper.”
Katie sighed. “Mason, I was not kissing him. That newspaper is making it look like I was, but I wasn’t. We were talking, and Chad gave me a hug. Why were you looking at the paper anyway? I don’t think I have ever seen you open one of those.”
The little boy’s gaze dropped to the ground, and he kicked a stray pebble off the sidewalk curb and into the street. “Dad showed me.”
It took everything Katie could muster within her to keep her face neutral. Inside, though, she was seething. What game was Jay playing? There had been a chance that her son would have never been subjected to that misleading picture—and, thus, he never would have be compelled to question her about such adult topics. Obviously, Jay’s manipulation knew no bounds. “Yeah, he did? What did your dad say when he showed you? It’s okay, you’re not in trouble or anything.” The wide eyes he wore paired well with his bottom lip as it started to quiver ever so slightly, letting her know that she needed to rein in her questioning, or he would clam up in fear of repercussions.
“I don’t know. Just that you were going to get in trouble if you weren’t careful or something. Or maybe he meant Chad would get in trouble. I don’t know!” Mason’s hands flew up in protest, shaking his head violently.
Katie reached out and held his arms gently but firmly. “Mason! It’s okay! Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal, okay?”
“But I don’t want you to get in trouble, Mom!”
She couldn’t help but laugh, no matter how laced with disgust the sound was. Whether or not she was in trouble should be the furthest thing from her seven-year-old son’s mind, yet there he was getting wound up and emotional at the thought of it. When had she allowed the roles to reverse and her son to grow so wise beyond his years? “I am not in trouble, Mase. I promise you that.” Your father is the only trouble I have got to contend with now.
“Is Chad, then?”
Katie kneeled down on the sidewalk, ignoring the bystanders and pedestrians that hurried past them with vehement urgency. “No, baby. No one is in trouble. Your dad was just being—I don’t know—dramatic. You don’t need to worry about Chad...or me, for that matter.”
Mason gave her a hesitant nod, and she tapped her finger against the tip of his nose, rising to her feet. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket to check the time. The phone, however, was blinking repetitively, signaling an incoming call. The caller display read Private Caller, and Katie hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should pick it up, fearful of telemarketers and scam artists. Out of pure curiosity, she hit the button and answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Hello, ma’am. Is your name Katie?”
The voice was unfamiliar to her ears. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
The woman cleared her throat. “Of course. My name is Lucinda. Are you a relative of a Mr. Chad Kirkwood, ma’am?”
Katie’s heart stopped at the mention of his name. “A relative? No, I am—I don’t understand. Where are you calling from, Lucinda?”
There was a moment of silence before the woman spoke again. “I am calling from Nashville General Hospital, ma’am. Do you know a Mr. Chad Kirkwood?” She repeated the question again, this time more urgently, making Katie’s heart constrict.
“Yes, I do. I know him well.” It was the hospital calling her. The hospital. “What happened?”
“Ma’am, I normally wouldn’t reveal medically related information regarding one of our patients to anyone who is not an immediate family member, but we currently have no records indicating a next of kin for Mr. Kirkwood. To be honest, your first name and phone number were found in the patient’s pocket at the scene of the accident—”
A sharp gasp escaped Katie’s throat, her mind immediately assuming the worst. “He is okay, right?” Her voice came out shrill and unsteady. She took a deep breath and turned away from Mason, lowering her voice. “Tell me he is okay.”
“Ma’am, Mr. Kirkwood is alive, but he has been in a very bad motor vehicle accident. Would you be willing to come down to the hospital? The staff here will be able to provide you with more information, then.”
“I’m on my way, Lucinda.” Katie was about to pull the cell phone away from her ear when she heard Lucinda’s voice once again.
“Katie?”
“Yes?”
“Hurry.”
Katie ended the call, staring blankly at each of the cars as they drove past her. Did they not realize the world had stopped turning? Could they not tell that the entire planet had been tipped viciously on its axis? How could they just keep living their normal mundane lives when her entire universe was crashing down so uncontrollably around her? What was wrong with them?
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
Katie lowered her gaze down to meet Mason’s, her vision blurry with the tears that brimmed her eyelids. “We have to go, Mase. It’s Chad. I was wrong. He is in trouble.”
***
There was a faint buzzing in Katie’s ears as she pushed her way through the sliding doors of the emergency department at Nashville General Hospital, and it was beginning to alarm her. She seemed disconnected from everything around her, as though there was some kind of veil between her and her surroundings, somehow keeping her void of any emotion that could render her incapacitated. Instead, she seemed to be on autopilot, holding Mason’s little hand tightly as she dragged him beside her. He was struggling to keep up, not fully sure as to what was really happening, but worry was wafting from his silent form in treacherous waves as well. Katie didn’t tell him of the urgency in Lucinda’s voice, but she didn’t need to. Mason’s understanding of the seriousness of the situation was obvious. Once again, Katie’s heart broke for his loss of innocence, unable to shelter him from the nastiness and cruelty of the world around him.
“I’m Katie,” she advised the dark haired nurse behind the counter. “I was called about Chad. I mean, Mr. Kirkwood. He was just brought in after a car accident.�
�� The nurse’s face stayed relatively neutral, but Katie, having been a nurse in an oncology ward, knew the look behind her eyes. There was a glimmer of pity there, a moment of hesitancy; she didn’t want to have to be the one to subject her to the ugly truth of what was to come. She nodded, though, rising from her chair rigidly.
“Yes, Katie. If you take a seat out there in the waiting room, I will advise the doctor and nursing staff that you are here.” She motioned automatically to the overpopulated room just outside the automatic doors, and Katie hoped she wasn’t made to wait long. Each passing second was becoming torturous.
“You’re not Lucinda, are you?”
The nurse gave her a muted smile. “I’m not, but if you would rather talk with her, I can let her know.” She paused a moment. “Our medical records for Mr. Kirkwood show no family contacts in case of an emergency, Katie. Do you know how we can reach his family members or his spouse?”
Katie avoided glancing down at Mason, who was turning his ashen face from one adult to another as he listened intently to the conversation. “He doesn’t have a...spouse. We—” Katie swallowed hard in an attempt to relieve the lump forming solidly in her throat. “It’s a bit complicated. His family, though, are in Ontario. I mean, Canada. I’m not sure who to contact.” She glanced past the nurse, willing an answer to show up beyond the swinging doors in front of her. “But I can find out how to get a hold of them.”
“That would be very helpful, Katie. I will have Mr. Kirkwood’s attending physician come and speak with you as soon as he is able to, all right?”
Katie thanked the nurse for her time, noticing for the first time that her nametag read Anna. “Thank you, Anna.”
The nurse turned to walk away, undoubtedly relieved to have passed the responsibility of confessing the grim truth onto someone else. Katie didn’t blame her for that. She had been there, and it was definitely not a highlight of the job description. She turned her gaze away as well, and she put a reassuring hand on the back of Mason’s head.
“Katie?”
She whirled around at the sound of the nurse’s voice again.
“I think Lucinda mentioned it, but I thought maybe you would want an explanation. We called you because your phone number was on a scrap of paper in Mr. Kirkwood’s wallet. Just your name and number, but we called it anyway. There was no way we couldn’t.”
Katie stared back at the woman, her confusion obvious. The nurse held her hand out and slipped a small piece of paper into her hands. She unfolded it slowly, her hands trembling uncontrollably.
“It might be unprofessional of me to say it, and I know you said that your relation to Mr. Kirkwood is complicated, but I would have to say that you must mean a lot to that man in the other room.”
Katie’s eyes swelled with tears again, and she tried to blink them back to no avail. It was the same scrap of paper she had given him, her own handwriting scrawled before her. Chad’s familiar writing was there, too, now, however, in the upper right corner. The scrap of paper had been folded and refolded many times, creased and crumpled, soft in her hands. On it, he had written the words The One beside her name with a small heart beside it.
***
Katie sat squeezed into the only available chair in the emergency room waiting area, and it was only available because an older gentleman who was waiting for his wife had offered up the one he had been sitting in. Mason was curled up on her knee, his legs dangling as he played idly with the string on the hood of his jacket. He’d said nothing since the nurse walked back behind the nursing desk, and Katie counted it as a blessing. She was not sure what she should say, and she wasn’t sure that giving the little boy any false hope was a good idea, especially when she had little clue as to what Chad was dealing with.
“Ms. Wicken?”
While she waited, Katie had filled out paperwork so the nursing staff had something on file to document who she was, and why they had called her and informed her—someone who was not actually an immediate family member—of Chad’s medical status. Obviously, the doctor who stood before her had glanced at those forms before heading out to speak with her.
Katie stood, pushing Mason gently to his feet. She stepped out of the way and motioned for Mason to sit back down and stay where he was. Whatever she found out next, her seven year old son did not need to be privy to the unfiltered version of it. “I am Katie, yes.”
“Come with me, Ms. Wicken, and we will discuss your friend.”
She glanced back in Mason’s direction. “I am not sure I want my son to hear—”
“That’s understandable. We will have one of the nurses watch him, okay? We shouldn’t be too long.”
She gave Mason a questioning glance in askance if he would be okay to sit there alone, and he nodded apprehensively. The nurse’s desk was a mere fifteen feet from the chair he sat in, so she relented, following the white coated doctor beyond the swinging doors in fearful silence.
“Mr. Kirkwood is very lucky to be alive, Ms. Wicken.” The doctor stopped part way down the hallway, setting his gaze assertively on her.
“Can someone tell me what happened to him?” Her voice was strained, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer to her question or not.
“As per the witnesses at the scene downtown, it would seem that your friend ran his truck through a red light, which resulted in his vehicle being hit squarely on the passenger side door. The other driver is also here in hospital with non-life-threatening injuries. His airbag saved him. Your friend, however, did not have that luxury.”
Katie nodded, her hand pressing against the base of her throat, as though to prevent the sobs from rising within her. “He was downtown,” she muttered. The sirens she and Mason heard—they were coming to save Chad. A wave of nausea rolled in Katie’s stomach, and she held out a hand against the wall to steady herself.
“Are you okay, Ms. Wicken?”
She nodded furiously. “Call me Katie, please. Is he going to be okay, doctor?”
“He is still in surgery at this point in time, Katie, and, if I am being honest, it’s too soon to tell. Mr. Kirkwood—”
“Chad. His name is Chad,” she corrected him.
“Chad has sustained multiple serious injuries from his accident, and he is currently in critical condition. These next few hours will be crucial in deciding what happens next.”
“What kind...of injuries?” She clenched her hand closed tightly around the slip of paper still clutched against her clammy palm.
“Mr. Kirkwood—Chad—has a serious head injury, Katie. There is intracranial bleeding, as well as a series of facial lacerations and traumas to his nasal and orbital bones. His left femur is broken, and there are multiple fractures within the pelvis. He also has seven broken ribs, and a punctured lung. Once your friend comes out of surgery, Katie, he will remain in a medically-induced coma in order to keep him sedated and calm to give his body the time it needs to begin to heal.”
She exhaled as the room began to swim around her. “What are his odds?”
“I am not prepared to give you my professional opinion on that just yet, Katie. Let’s wait until he is released from surgery and go from there. He is a fighter, I can tell you that much. He has made it this far, and that is a very good sign.” The doctor set a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but Katie gained little solace from it. She thanked him and returned to the emergency room waiting area, unsure if the information she received had helped or not. Her first reaction was to panic when she saw that Mason was no longer perched in the chair she had left him in, but Anna, the nurse, must have seen her worried expression because she quickly called from her place behind the nurse’s desk and let Katie know that Lucinda had taken him down to the cafeteria during her coffee break to get a treat from the vending machine. She hoped that was okay, and Katie gave her a vacant smile. Mason’s sugar intake was the least of her worries at this point in time.
As per the witnesses at the scene downtown... Chad had been downtown, only blocks from where she and M
ason had been perusing through the rows of shops. Katie leaned back in her chair, ignoring the sporadic looks of the other patients in the waiting room as she wiped away the tears that continued to fall from her eyes. A quick glance at the clock confirmed the age old saying she had heard since her youth; everything true can change in the blink of an eye. In a matter of hours, everything had. To keep herself sane while she awaited an update from Chad’s doctor, Katie pulled her cell phone from her pocket and realized she had forgotten about the missed calls from earlier in the day. Chad’s cell number was listed repeatedly on the screen since the day before, and another forceful wave of nausea ripped through her. She bolted from her chair, thankful the outpatient washroom was clearly visible, close by, and vacant as she kicked the door closed behind her and vomited into the toilet bowl. The cell phone clattered to the floor as she knelt before the toilet, pleading silently for the wave of sickness to subside. When it did, she stood slowly, wiping her hand across her mouth and washing her hands before she picked her phone back up.
She pushed in the lock on the washroom door and lowered herself to the floor, relishing in the silence and lack of questioning glances. She sifted through the missed calls, staring at the display screen through blurry eyes as she watched Chad’s name listed numerous times before her. There had been a missed text message, too, and she pressed the icon to read it.
Katie, don’t you dare do this. I’m coming to find you downtown. Just...do not marry him. I love you too much for that.
Sobs wracked Katie’s chest, and she held the phone tightly against her, letting the tears fall freely. Her brain began to piece together the timeline that led to Chad’s accident, filling in the blanks like missing puzzle pieces. He had been downtown with the sole purpose of finding her, of stopping her from making such a huge mistake. He had known that she had agreed to marry Jay, which meant he had spoken with Jay, although on the phone or in person, she couldn’t be sure.
I love you too much for that.
She loved him too much, too, and yet, look what she had done to him.
What We've Become (My Kind Of Country Book 2) Page 13