Page 107 of His North Star
“You don’t understand. That’s my fiancé,” I blurted. The excuse flew from my lips all too easily. But I knew from previous experience, the only way they’d tell me anything, or let me see him, was if I was family.
“We need you to step aside,” the nurse reaffirmed.
“But I’m family,” I protested.
A female EMT spouted numbers and information that went over my head. Another EMT, a nurse, and a doctor blocked my view of Ty. I clenched my lips to keep my sob in check. Tears streaked down my hot cheeks. They pulled Ty out of the back of the ambulance, and my heart stopped beating.
“Is he okay?” My voice came out in a strangled squeak.
“Please take a seat in the waiting room,” the nurse replied. “We’ll find you when we have more information.”
I ignored the nurse and followed them inside. Why my brain felt the need to notice the overhead lights flashing against the reflective tile or the wheel on the gurney creaking every three rotations, I had no clue. Maybe focusing on mundane occurrences kept me sane.
The only part of Ty visible was a white bandage covering his head. At the ICU doors, another nurse caught my arm. “You can’t go in there.”
“Please,” I begged, sliding the back of my hand under my runny nose.
“Sorry. As soon as he’s in a room, we’ll let you know.”
“How long will that be?” I begged.
Her eyes creased at the corners. “I don’t know. But if you go to the waiting room, we’ll come get you. What’s your name?”
“Maren Meyers,” I said.
“What’s your relationship?”
“He’s my fiancé,” I lied again.
“You’ll be the first one we talk to when we have an update, all right?” Her grandmotherly look matched her tone.
I nodded as she ushered me to the waiting room. I dropped into a chair. My gaze went hazy. Not a single detail came into focus. Time in hospitals did not operate as the rest of the world. Years, hours, minutes later, Charlie showed up looking haggard.
Ty’s mom’s plump frame and wrinkly tanned skin sagged as she came in right after Charlie. She’d pulled her brown, streaked-with-gray hair into a hasty ponytail. Ty’s dad arrived last. He was taller than Ty and Charlie, but both sons got their blond hair and green eyes from Greg, as well as their broad shoulders.
As each family member arrived, they asked for an update. My shoulders shrugged, and I shook my head. No updates. No news. No clue if Ty would be okay. Ty’s mom went to the registration desk. I overheard her demanding to see Ty. They told her they were examining him now and would give us an update as soon as they had one.
At six o’clock, after we’d been there for three hours, James staggered in. His hair stuck out at all angles. Bags puffed purple under his eyes.
“James,” I called, waving him over.
I stood, and he immediately wrapped me in his arms. We clung to one another. Our sniffles were muffled by each other’s shoulders. Seeing him again wasn’t awkward like I thought it would be. James was my friend.
Charlie approached us. “You’re James? The one that called me?”
James nodded.
“What happened?” Denise, Ty’s mom, asked.
He sank into a chair. “We were river rafting. It’s a run I’ve done quite a few times the last five months. Out of nowhere, a log dislodged itself and rammed into the side of Ty’s kayak, smashing him against a boulder.
“His kayak tipped, dumping him in. But his head.” His eyes pinched, pain in his features. “It wasn’t good. I did the best I could with what I had with me. I’ve never felt so useless in my life.”
“Was he conscious?” Gregory, Ty’s dad, inquired.
“For a bit. We had to wait for the ambulance for far too long. Head wounds bleed a lot. He lost so much blood.”
Each one of us slowly shook our heads, looked out the window, or sat back down. James explaining what happened helped answer some questions, but until we heard from the doctor, there wasn’t much else to do but wait. I encircled my waist with my arms. It did nothing to ease the giant knot in my torso.
