Page 85 of Embers of You
“We have to get him to the hospital,” is all she calmly says. We’re trained to be calm in the worst situations, to not escalate anything. But I’m unable to do that right now because I’ve never had a call like this when the patient is my own family.
“I’m coming with,” I state firmly as they get him loaded into the ambulance.
“Jameson.” Parker sighs.
“No,” I snap. “I’m going to the fucking hospital.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Parker tries again.
“I don’t care what you think. I’m going,” I snap. Normally, I would feel bad about it, but nothing else matters right now. I’m not leaving my dad.
I hop into the ambulance, leaving Parker to get in the fire engine with Dave as Jo starts driving toward the hospital. I will my training to kick in as I take all the proper steps. He’s already hooked up to the portable monitor, which only shows how weak his pulse is.
“Come on, Dad. We need you to stay with us,” I grit out, right before the monitor flatlines. “Fuck!” I yell out as I start CPR.
I don’t notice the tears streaming down my face as I keep the steady rhythm of chest compressions as we get to the hospital. I scream out for Jo to drive faster, but I can’t hear her response.
The ambulance stops, and the back opens and the stretcher is being taken out, everyone working quickly to take over for his care. The doctors and nurses take over, putting a mask over his face to force oxygen as they rush him past doors, and I’m stopped from following any further.
I grip my hair, yanking at the strands as I stare at the closed metal in front of me. I barely register being pushed back and voices talking to me, leading me to the waiting area. I’m forced into a chair.
“What happened?” I finally ask.
“They don’t know. Hit and run, looked like your dad stopped and took his seatbelt off before the other car hit him.” I don’t look up to see who’s talking to me. I think it’s Dave, but it doesn’t matter.
“Why would he do that?” I shake my head.
“Might’ve stopped to help an animal or something.”
I rest my elbows on my knees and drop my head into my hands, silently questioning why this happened. What was he thinking? Where is the bastard that hit him and just ran without even trying to help?
I’m not sure how much time passes, completely lost in my mind when I hear my name said through a sob, and my eyes snap up to see Ma rushing toward me and straight into my arms. Sutton is trailing behind her and I feel myself soften at them both being here.
Sutton hesitates stepping closer, but I don’t give her a choice. Stepping toward her the second Ma lets go of me, I pull her into my arms, needing to feel her to ground myself. To give me just a sliver of light in the darkest moment of my life.
“How are you here?” I ask as her hand reaches up and wipes my cheek and I realize it has fresh tears on it.
“Parker called the salon. I rushed to get your mom, then we came straight here.”
I drop my forehead to hers, loving her even more, and wanting to tell her, but unable to when everything feels so grim. She deserves to hear those words from me in a better moment, not like this.
“Thank you,” I tell her instead. She closes her eyes, gripping the back of my shirt tightly as we hold each other.
I keep her tucked into my side as I go to sit by Ma who’s crying. Her red eyes look up at me, and I can see the hope shining through because she’s always optimistic. But she didn’t see him.
She didn’t hear the monitor register that it could no longer pick up his heartbeat.
And I’m glad she didn’t.
The door opens several times, but never for us. Time seems to drag on, and I start to gain hope, but then it falls. It’s like I’m on a constant rollercoaster of emotion.
Finally it opens and the doctor calls for the Turner family. We all stand, and I have Sutton tucked against my side, and my other arm around Ma’s shoulders as she holds her sweatertightly around her. She’s always cold lately, and the sterile hospital feels extra cold.
The doctor speaks and I swear the world flips on its axis, because as soon as I hear the first two words I’m lost to the noise of Ma’s sobs and the weight of my own emotions as reality barrels into me. Our last interaction. The last words spoken to each other. The fact that I can’t ever change them and the last memories I have of my dad will always be of us fighting and seeing him broken in that car.
“I’m sorry. We did everything we could, but he didn’t make it.”
CHAPTER 40
