Page 4 of Dove
Under the cover of the porch, my hands shook, the phone nearly slipping out of my grip. Water dripped off my hair, running into my eyes, mixing with my tears. He had a point. There was no way I could safely drive myself in these conditions in the state I was in. He hadn’t said it, but I knew it was why he’d asked if I had someone who could take me. Someone who wasn’t nearly on the brink of a panic attack. Through blurry eyes, I watched the downpour continue, flooding the yard like it always did, harsh gusts of wind swaying the trees in the distance.
It was just as likely I’d end up in that hospital with them if I drove myself.
“Yes,” I relented in a whisper, praying whatever condition they were in was stable enough for me to make it there in time.
Waiting for the cop to arrive gavemetime, at least, to steady my panicking thoughts and gather myself.
So I could make the one phone call I’d vowed to never make.
Anger churned in my belly as my call went to voicemail.
I couldn’t remember what words I snapped out in my fury, if they’d been concise and coherent or if my worry and hurt had bled into what I’d said. A part of me wanted to hang up without saying a word, so he could panic and fret over why I called without any explanation. But this situation was far more important than my need for petty payback.
My bottom lip stung where it was raw from gnawing at it, a bad habit I’d acquired at a young age, and my hands hurt from the grip I’d kept on my phone. As mad as I was at him for not answering, I still wished for it to ring the entire ride over as I sat silently in the cop car, my unease and dread growing by the minute. A part of me craved to hear the deep timbre of his voice, how it would drop lower as he reassured me everything would be okay. I really needed the comfort I knew it would bring, but that voice lived only in my memories now. I hadn’t heard it in three years.
No amount of wishing was going to change that.
The moment I stepped into the emergency room, all those thoughts flew from my head. They were replaced with sterile white walls and nurses walking around casually as if the fragility between life and death wasn’t clinging like a bad stench to this place. It transported me back to a time that still held me in its grasp, when I was too young to understand what this place really was.
But I knew now, had learned firsthand, and I hated being here. I hated not knowing the outcome of my visit, if I was going to walk away with good news or the kind I’d never recover from.
The officer at my side guided me to the front desk with sure strides, where he exchanged a few polite words with the receptionist, who looked at me with sympathy.
Her nails clacked against the keyboard as she entered the few bits of information the officer gave her. Her eyes grew sad, but when she glanced up at me, her smile was encouraging.
“Here, honey,” she cooed in a soft voice well-practiced for these situations. “Fill out what you can and bring it back when you’re done. When you come back, I’ll have an update for you on what’s going on with your parents, okay?”
I nodded, taking the clipboard she offered with shaky hands. When I turned, all I saw was a roomful of other people awaiting their fates, each one of them wondering if life would resume as normal—this moment a single bump in the road—or if it would be changed irrevocably.
How many times would I have to live through these moments? How much more could I stand to lose?
“I can stay for a while,” the cop, Shane, offered. His hand was a steadying weight on my back as he guided me to a chair in a far corner, tucked away from the group of people gathered closest to the doors swinging open and closed, as if hoping their closer proximity would bring them quicker news of their loved ones.
I dreaded those doors, and the news that would come through it.
Once I was seated, I glanced up at him. Shane was new to Haven and its police force, but I’d seen him around town on my trips in. He was middle-aged, with grey just starting at the temples of his dark hair and laugh lines framing his kind eyes. His hands rested on his duty belt as he waited for me to answer.
“That’s all right.” I glanced down to the papers in my hand. At least I had a distraction for a little while. There was only one person I wanted by my side, and if I couldn’t have him, then being alone was the next best thing.
He hesitated but nodded, reluctantly accepting my answer. Perhaps if it had been anyone else who’d brought me, they’d have argued, but Shane didn’t know me, or my parents, and so small-town loyalty hadn’t bitten him like most of the lifers of Haven’s police department. “I’ll keep in touch with the hospital and leave them my number just in case you need a ride back.”
A frown tugged at my lips. “You don’t have to. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, and you have a job to do.” Another thought came to me. “Or you might be off duty by then.”
He shook his head. “If it isn’t me, one of the boys will gladly grab you. I’ll make sure the precinct knows to anticipate a call.”
Too tired to argue, I dipped my head in agreement. I had my phone, so I could Uber home at any time. The fees would be astronomical, but that was the least of my worries right now.
He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve been in your shoes before. I wouldn’t wish this on anybody. I’ll pray for your folks.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes at his compassion.
He smiled sadly before turning and making his way across the waiting room to exit the large sliding glass doors.
A part of me wanted to call out to him, beg him to take me back home, where I could escape the sterile smell of disinfectant and the palpable fear that hung in the air like a thick fog, stirring up memories that made my chest throb like an open wound.
Instead, I uncapped the pen attached to the clipboard and focused on reading the first question printed there through unshed tears.
Seconds turned to minutes turned into hours.
