But sometimes . . . there抯 just nothing anyone can do. Nothing.
And I hate that I fucking know that. I wish I didn抰。 I wish I knew anything except that.
But Aaron doesn抰 know it and that抯 how it抯 going to stay.
I wipe his tears away gently, and my voice is calm and soothing, like when I used to read him a story before bedtime.
揧ou抮e going to be just fine, buddy. They抮e going to bring you upstairs and you抮e going to go to sleep and they抮e going to fix you right up. And when you wake up, nothing抯 going to hurt anymore . . . and I抦 going to be right there. I抣l be right there with you, holding your hand, I promise.?
His features smooth out as he takes another breath.
揑 love you, Dad.?
I try so hard to keep my voice from breaking, but it does anyway.
揑 love you too, Aaron. So much.?
He gives me a tiny nod and a small smile.
揑 know.?
I stroke his forehead with my thumb one last time, and then the rails of the exam table are snapped up with a metallic clang. And Makayla barks out orders.
揙kay let抯 go. OR 3 is ready for us.?
They move as a group in rapid synchronized steps down the hall, some pushing the bed, others carrying equipment and saline bags. I jog behind them, keeping eye contact with Aaron for as long as I can. His eyes slide closed and stay that way as they wheel him into the elevator.
And I stand in the hallway watching the doors shut. Because there抯 no room for me and the OR is sterile, I can抰 go in with him.
My arms are numb at my sides and I抦 just . . . useless. Blank.
Lost.
I don抰 know where to go or what to do. I never not know what to do. It抯 like I can抰 form a thought in my head. My knees go weak so I lean against the wall, bending over and gulping for air in tight, strangled gasps.
Above the rushing in my ears, I hear my name called from down the hall.
揅onnor!?
I turn around and Violet slams into me. Her arms wrapping around me, holding me up梥olid and strong and here. And I needed her here so fucking much.
揤iolet . . . Jesus, Violet.?
I clasp at her like a drowning man, burying my face in her neck, breathing in her warmth and vitality.
揟here was an accident,?I tell her in a voice that抯 not even mine.
揑 know. Callie called me.?
揌e抯 . . . hurt, Vi.?
Her arms squeeze me tighter.
揌e抯 hurt really bad.?
揑抦 here. I抳e got you.?
We stay wrapped around each other for a few moments, until my heartbeat slows. I straighten up and rub at my wet eyes and try to pull my shit together.
揑 don抰 know what to do.?I press my hands against my skull, squeezing. 揊uck! What do I need to do??
Violet抯 brown eyes are steady and clear梘rounding me, guiding me, like a light in a pitch-black storm.
揧ou have to call his mother. You have to let Stacey know what抯 happening.?
Right. Call Stacey. I can do that.
Having a direction, a task I can complete, helps. Helps to get my brain working again, helps to bring me back to me.
揙kay.?I nod, reaching for my phone. 揙kay.?
*
Violet
I抦 in full-on triage mode, my emotions on lockdown, moving on auto-pilot. My only focus is Connor and the boys梩hat they have what they need, that they抮e getting through this, that I抦 here for them.
My own feelings about Aaron? The idea that抯 he抯 hurt, that we could lose him? No桰抣l think about that later梬hen I can cry and fall apart.
Now is not that time.
We wait in the main waiting room outside the ED, because it抯 big with lots of chairs and accessible to everyone. Garrett stays, Connor抯 ex-mother-in-law Joyce arrives, Ryan and Angela bring the boys and wait with us too. Connor sits Brayden and Spencer in the two chairs between us, so we bookend them.
Connor抯 parents arrive next. Mr. Daniels, whose style is old-school and gruff, walks straight to his firstborn and pulls him into his arms for a hug.
揑t抯 going to be all right, son.?He pats Connor抯 back. 揇on抰 you worry.?
My armor cracks just a bit at his words, my throat clogging, but I manage to keep it together.
A few minutes later, Timmy walks through the doors still in his firefighter gear. His eyes are red rimmed as he sits beside Connor and quietly tells him what it was like at the scene. How they pulled up to the accident and Tim immediately recognized Aaron抯 white Honda Civic, but he didn抰 believe it . . . not until he saw his nephew pinned inside.
He tells Connor that Aaron was scared but he didn抰 feel any pain and that he begged his uncle to get him out. And Tim promised him he would, talked him through it, kept him calm, until they were able to extract him from the car.
Connor抯 expression is controlled and stoic. It抯 a mask he wears well . . . the same one he uses for patients so they抮e not burdened by what he抯 thinking or feeling.
揧ou did good, Tim.?Connor puts his hand on his little brother抯 shoulder. 揑抦 so grateful that you were there for him.?
Timmy sniffs and blows out a big breath, the way guys do when they抮e trying not to cry.
揧eah. I抦 gonna . . . get some air.?
He walks outside, and a moment later Garrett follows him, to make sure he抯 okay. Because even though they argue and mock each other . . . they抮e brothers.
As news of the accident gets around Lakeside, the waiting room fills up with more and more teenagers桝aron抯 friends and members of the football team. They抮e somber, respectful, talking quietly amongst themselves or looking at their phones. Aaron抯 pretty girlfriend comes in wearing his varsity jacket, because kids still give those to each other when they抮e dating. She approaches Connor, her face awash with devastation, two of her friends flanking her for moral support.
揌i, Dr. Daniels.?
Connor gives her a gentle smile.
揌i, Mia.?
揇o you know how he抯 doing??
揑 talked to him when he came in; he was conscious, which is good. He抯 in surgery now and we抣l know more when he gets out.?
She points to an empty chair in the corner.
揑抣l be over there.?
Connor nods. 揙kay.?
Tim and Garrett come back in and Garrett tells his players that Aaron probably won抰 be out of the OR for hours梩hat they should head home and he抣l update them.
揥e want to stay, Coach D,?one of the captains says. 揑f it抯 all right with you.?
揧eah, that抯 fine, Taylor.?
揇o you guys need anything??another captain, who抯 tall with massively broad shoulders for a teenager, asks. 揅offee? We could make a White Castle run if anyone抯 hungry.?
I smile softly . . . because these are good kids.
Garrett checks with all of us, but everyone declines梩oo worried to eat.
The waiting room is quiet for several minutes after that. But a little before 10 p.m., the air changes梬hen Stacey-formerly-Daniels walks in.
The tension between her and Connor isn抰 a secret to the people in this room. She抯 visibly agitated, frazzled梑ut still more beautiful than I抎 pictured her. I don抰 know why that surprises me.
And the boys look like her. Up until now, I抳e only seen Connor in them, but the resemblance to their mother is there.
Her onyx eyes scan the room, finding Connor and glaring like he somehow caused Aaron抯 accident.
Her hands are clenched when she walks up to him.
揥here is he??
揌e抯 in surgery.?
揑 want to see him. Right now.?
揧ou can抰。？
揇on抰 give me that shit again!?she raises her voice, pointing her finger. 揧ou抳e been trying to turn them against me for months.?