Indelible You (Imagine Ink)

by Verlene Landon

  Frank kissed his sobbing wife on the top of her head and escorted her to the car where the topic of their conversation was already seated in the back. “I know love, so we’ve just got to pray hard that when we get there, that won’t be the case.” Opening her door, Frank seated his wife and buckled her in, dropping a kiss on her cheek before closing the door and entering his own. The car roared to life and backed out of the short drive.

  Once they were underway, the silence on the car was broken. “Son? Your mother needs to know what’s going on?”

  Walker’s tone was dead, flat, distant and disconnected. “After I couldn’t find a clue as to where Erika might be, I went to her place. I needed to be close to her, or maybe I hoped she’d return, I don’t know. This morning I tried her number again and nothing. I called Mel’s and a woman with a lisp answered. She was being cryptic and shit and wouldn’t tell me where Mel was. I mentioned Erika and how she was missing, then the lady simply says, ‘I’m a nurse at Ralston Trauma.’ That’s it, that’s all I know. Melanie’s phone at least is at Ralston trauma.”

  He’d been looking at the drawing of his little family in the nursery the whole time he spoke. Folding it small, he exchanged it for the other in his pocket, the ultrasound. Tracing Willow’s little nose he hiccupped and spoke to himself. “My precious little Willow, I love you and your mother so much, I can’t go on without you. Please God, let them be okay.”

  Awash in his own agony, Walker was vaguely aware of his parent’s pain. Even though they might have already lost their grandchild and her mother, their pain was a dull ache in comparison to the living hell he was going through. He understood that most of what they were dealing with was for him. That added a helping of guilt to his already overflowing plate, he knew, and so did they, he couldn’t survive this if he lost Erika or Willow, and that meant Frank and Francis Reid would also lose their son.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THURSDAY

  WALKER

  “Erika Pressman?” Walker blurted to the first person he encountered in the hospital in uniform sitting at a computer. The old man’s fingers flew over the keyboard and the clicks seemed deafening.

  An eternity passed before the old man responded, “Room 306. Elevator bank’s down the hall to the right. 306 is on the third floor. Stop by the nurse’s station for directions. Only two visitors at a time, there is a small waiting area just off the elevator to the left. Coffee and snacks available there.”

  Walker was already pushing the “up” arrow repeatedly before the old man finished. He heard the room number and all else faded away. He went numb. It was real then, she was there, in room 306.

  Which meant something had happened, something bad, or not he hoped. Maybe the baby was coming or came early. Erika was thirty-sixish weeks according to the date on the ultra sound and the date they made love, so there was a good chance of survival. After he’d found the picture under the coffee table, Walker Googled everything he could about pregnancy. He learned that although her lungs wouldn’t be perfect, and she’d be small and susceptible to infection, she could and would survive, damn it.

  Maybe that’s why the nurse told him where to find them, so he wouldn’t miss the birth. That’s what he was trying to convince himself of when the elevator dinged and the doors parted. But, in the back of his mind, he knew better. Melanie would have answered her phone instead of a nurse, or hell, she’d have called him. Storming the nurse’s station, he was directed to room 306. His mother walked with him, but his father hung back at the waiting area. He was clearly just as shaken as they were, but Frank always deferred to Francis’s needs first, and right now, she needed information on her only grandchild.

  Walker stood staring at the placard by the door.

  ROOM 306

  Pressman, Erika 07449

  Girl 5lbs 2oz 18in

  January 24 15:02

  He’d been a father for over eighteen hours and didn’t even know it. She was here, his little girl. Raising a shaky hand, he traced the plastic face of the placard. The woman he loved had given him a child. She was obviously small, but she was here, and they were both alive if the information on the wall was to be believed. His knees buckled with relief and he couldn’t catch himself before he was on the ground, kneeling in front of the still-closed door.

  It was his mother’s voice that brought him to his feet with her gentle persuasion. “Son, you’ve got to get up now. Erika is going to need your strength and so is my grand baby. So, you just take a deep breath and go in there and tell that woman how much she means to you and then, we will head down the hall to meet your daughter.”

  Walker’s head snapped around to look up into his mother’s caring eyes. “You mean she’s not in there with Erika? But it says…”

  “I know what it says, Son, but that’s just to match the babies with the moms. Your Willow was born early, depending on possible complications, she’s either in the nursery or the NICU. But don’t worry about that, worry about the woman in there who just gave birth to her first child all alone except for her friend Melanie who has never been through it. So get in there and beg her forgiveness for being tardy and promise her the stars in the sky if that’s what she wants.”

  Walker nodded and mumbled, “Well, Melanie is better than being alone, but it should have been me. I’ll have to find a way to thank her for being here when I wasn’t.” With that, Walker pushed open the door.

  His first sight of Erika in eight months robbed his breath. Her skin was so pale, it was almost translucent, where it wasn’t mottled in varying shades of blue, that is. Stitches tracked up the side of her face into her hairline and part of her glorious mane was shaved to where they extended. There must have been a hundred of them just in that one run alone. Her right arm and both legs were casted. She looked like she’d been beaten to hell and back.

  Francis’ sharp intake of breath started a cascade of tears tracking down her slightly-wrinkled cheeks and ripped strangled cries from Walker. How he managed to make his way to her bedside and gently take her uncasted hand in his was a mystery. Francis stood rooted just inside the door, her purse long ago dropped to the floor and her hands muffling her cries.

  “What the hell happened to you, babe?” Walker choked out on a whisper, the question not meant for Erika. He readjusted his hand to untangle with the tubes and wires attached to her and fiddled with the bands at her arm absently. One was for identification as Baby Girl Pressman’s mother. That came with double edged emotions because his daughter had been born without his name, but she was alive, or they wouldn’t need the chipped ID bands. “Mom?”

  Francis was at his side before the back end sound of the “m” died. “It’s going to be all right, Son. Her vitals look good, and she’s not in any pain as long as she’s asleep.”

  Walker sometimes forgot his mom spent twenty years as an ER nurse and that meant she understood all the beeps and graphs. His lips were in constant motion over the back of her hand as he said “I love you” over and over against the skin there.

  So taken with Erika’s condition and the question’s swirling in their minds, neither Walker nor his mother realized there was another person in the room until he stepped up to the other side of the bed and cleared his throat. “Umm, excuse me are you Andrew Wellington?”

  “No, he’s not,” Francis answered before Walker could form a coherent thought, “why?” she queried back.

  “Because her phone has Mr. Wellington listed as her ICE contact. May I ask, are you relations?”

  Walker stood up and spoke rather brusquely, “I’m her fiancée, Walker, and this my mother. What the hell happened to her, Doc?”

  The doctor looked apologetic. “I’m sorry sir, I can’t divulge that information except to her next of kin, which we do not have a record of. We accepted the ICE listing on her phone in lieu of it, but we’ve been unable to get a hold of Mr. Wellington, or a Miss Tori Reid, her second ICE contact.”

  “And you won’t be getting a hold of either one of them
for days or weeks. Andy is on a ship out of the country, and Tori, my sister, is in a cabin in the middle of bum fuck nowhere.” Walker felt his mother’s gentle squeeze for the warning it was, as his temper was on the rise. “I’m sorry, Doc, I’m just terrified is all. How is my baby girl? Can you tell me that at least? How about Mel? Give me something, or I’m going to go crazy.” His pleading tone wasn’t lost on the doctor.

  “You’re the baby’s father?”

  Producing the ultrasound picture from his pocket, he showed the doctor. “Yes, see? I know it’s not definitive proof, but short of DNA, I don’t know how to prove it to you.”

  Francis felt the doctor’s skepticism and stepped in to head it off at the pass. “I understand your reluctance Doctor?” She checked his name tag for the answer instead of waiting for him to provide it, “Chisolm. But you see, they had a bit of a falling out and just got back together, that’s why he wasn’t listed as her ICE, but I can assure you that if this, whatever it is,” indicating Erika’s injuries, “hadn’t happened, they would be married, and he would be her emergency contact along with myself.”

  She retrieved her purse without missing a beat and removed her ultrasound picture. “If you flip that one over, you’ll see the note my soon-to-be daughter-in-law penned. That should at the very least support our claim of our relationship to the baby.”

  Dr. Chisolm accepted the picture and read the back. “Your granddaughter, Willow Erin Reid.”

  Returning the pictures to the hands of the Reids, Dr. Chisolm sighed with resignation and relief. “I will inform the NICU of your presence in the hospital and authorize them to update you only if your daughter’s condition worsens, but without the mother’s consent there is no way I can grant you access to her or any more than that. I don’t dispute your claim, but I can’t break the law, I’m already in it up to my eyes by allowing that much, surely you understand.”

  Walker nodded once in grudging agreement. “What about Melanie, can she not tell you who we are, verify I am who I say I am?”

  “I can’t discuss Miss Martin with anyone but her emergency contact of record, and that is Miss Pressman.” If the shit just didn’t keep a coming.

  “Can we see her? Maybe we can get her to tell you direct.”

  Dr. Chisolm dropped eye contact, “That’s not possible.”

  Goosebumps raced up Walker’s arms and the hair on the back of his neck was at full attention. “What happened, Doc?” When Dr. Chisolm’s lips stayed locked, Walker had an idea.

  He produced his cell phone and showed him a series of very private texts between him and Andrew about Erika in an attempt to sway him on Erika at least. “See, Doc, that’s her emergency contact’s number and you can see what we’ve talked about.”

  When Dr. Chisolm relented, Walker dropped to the chair with relief. “Miss Pressman was the passenger in a head on collision yesterday afternoon. She suffered multiple traumatic injuries and the force of the impact brought on early and aggressive labor. Her placenta was separating and the first responders delivered your daughter before Miss Pressman was removed from the vehicle.”

  A strangled cry cut through the room. Walker didn’t even realize it came from him until Dr. Chisolm was on his knees next to him checking his vitals and asking him questions. “I’m fine, Doc, if you would please continue?”

  “Well, Mr. Reid, like I said, she suffered multiple injuries consistent with vehicular trauma. She was unconscious at the scene, in and out through the night, and is finally resting comfortably with the aid of medication. She hasn’t been coherent enough to understand that she’s given birth yet. It’s best that she stays asleep because we can manage her pain, and her…eh, your daughter is well cared for. Dr. Fischer is in charge of her care. His bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, but, he’s the best in the state with early-term babies.”

  “What of Melanie and the other vehicle?” It was Francis who posed the question. “How did it happen? Was anyone else hurt?”

  “The highway patrol said the other driver crossed the center divider and had a BAC twice the legal limit. He was the lone occupant of the other vehicle.” The doctor rose and went to fiddle with the machine and tubes leading to Erika’s bed. “Miss Pressman is extremely lucky.”

  Walker was livid, so much so he couldn’t hold his seat and began pacing like a caged animal and muttering to himself. “I’ll kill the bastard, I’ll fucking kill him. What kind of an idiot drinks and drives. I swear, I’ll go back, I don’t give a flying fuck, but there is no way that bastard will take up space in this world after what he did to my family.”

  As Walker’s voice escalated, so did the doctor’s irritation and he blurted out, “No need to work yourself into a frenzy Mr. Reid, Miss Pressman is the only survivor.”

  As soon as the doc realized he’d just revealed more than he intended, he dropped his head in shame and excused himself from the room. Knowing Doc had not only violated regulation, but unwillingly as well, gave Walker a hint that Dr. Chisolm was a man torn. Between what was best for his patients and following protocol. It was clear how deeply he sympathized with Walker’s position. If he was wrong about the Reids, then he would be in deep shit. Walker silently committed to not proving the man’s heart driven actions his downfall.

  “That means…” Walker trailed off.

  “Melanie’s gone,” Francis finished in shock.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  FEBRUARY

  WALKER

  Hours passed, hell, days for all Walker knew. His parents had come and gone at least three times already. Marty and Caleb had been by, and even Big Dax put in an appearance. George called and checked in on how they were all doing. He also said he was upping the hours of his crew and absorbing the cost so Willow and Erika could come home when they decided to release them.

  Walker saw Willow through the tiny glass window on the door to the NICU every chance he had, but he had yet to touch her or hold her, smell her, and tell her how much Daddy loves her.

  He did finally get to see her through the large nursery window just a few minutes ago. Willow was stable enough now to be moved in with the other babies. So, he was guessing it had been days after all, instead of just hours.

  The nurse that came in last time sounded vaguely familiar. She mentioned as soon as Dr. Chisolm signed the order to reduce the meds and wake Erika slowly, they’d bring Willow for a visit with her mother. That renewed Walker’s spirit just a little. He and his mom were both chomping at the bit to get their hands on his daughter.

  The sooner Erika woke, the sooner he’d be in the same room with Willow. Walker wanted to hold her desperately, but he also wanted Erika to sleep and heal. The thought of them waking her up to pain, made his chest ache. Andy and Marco were scheduled to dock today, so no matter what, he’d be holding his daughter tonight and Erika wouldn’t have to suffer for it.

  Also, Dr. Chisolm could relax. Walker didn’t miss the haunted look in his eyes and the fear of what he’d said coming back to bite him in the ass. But, there was also a compassion there that overrode protocol. One look in the good doctor’s eyes said he’d probably do it all over again, if it meant saving one family member the agony of the unknown.

  Between the puzzling messages the hospital left, Walker’s blubbered voice mails and detailed texts, Walker was one hundred percent positive, Andy would be here with all the necessary paperwork within hours of docking.

  Everyone had begged Walker to go home and shower, get some sleep and a bite to eat, but he didn’t need any of those things. Everything he needed was here, in this building. They tried to remove him from Erika’s room, especially after hours, but he found an ally in the nightshift nurse and Dr. Chisolm himself. He had to respect the man, knowing that he could be in a whole shitload of trouble if Erika’s ICE showed up and protested. Walker knew that wouldn’t happen, but Doc didn’t, not for sure anyway, all he had to go on was Walker’s word, ultrasound photos, and old text messages.

  Erika would start to stir mayb
e twice a day. Muttering his name, Willow’s, “sorry” and “love.” And his heart was ripped out of his chest and put in a blender every damn time. She would tear up and rub her belly with her free hand, moaning and sobbing before they came in and pumped more drugs into her IV. Walker tried to sooth her with his own words of love and assurance that Willow was thriving and she had nothing to be sorry for, but she never responded like she understood a single syllable.

  Walker thought the time he spent locked up was torture, but this? This was agony, sheer hell. Like fifth layer shit at best. He would eagerly go back for twenty-to-life if he could spare Erika just one more second of pain and grief. It was all Walker could do at this point not to have a drink and start punching things. He wanted to, God knows he fucking wanted to, but that wouldn’t change the fact that the woman he loves more than life itself was lying here in a suspended state of grief, one where she thinks her daughter is gone and blames herself. Or that his daughter was down the hall and he can’t even fucking touch her.

  Walker wanted to call Gus and have her talk him down, but he’d already imposed on their relationship enough. She had Sixx and Mars now, and well, that was enough for anyone to handle. Besides, he was in a place where he could talk himself down, if he could just remember how and focus. That was easier said than done. Especially when Erika would moan and start her awake-but-not-awake cycle.

  Walker’s phone vibrated in his pocket and a small measure of peace overtook him. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was Andy and that meant he would come in here and lawyer up the place and he’d get to kiss his daughter’s chubby cheeks goodnight finally.

  “Thank God man, we need you, bad. Erika a…”

  “Walker, breathe.” In a softer voice that sounded more like talking to himself than holding a real conversation, Walker heard. “Sometimes you need a Viking to raze a place to the ground.”