Page 129 of The Last Second Chance
I thought of the way he looked at Joey during their prom pictures. It had made me drag him outside for just a minute to remind him of the merits of being safe. He’d rolled his eyes at me then. “I know Dad. We’ve got big plans together. I’m not going to screw that up with some accidental pregnancy.”
I’d never put much stock in high school sweethearts. Until Jax and Joey. There was something about them that seemed older than time. Joey had been a part of the family since she and Jax met in kindergarten. And when they stopped tiptoeing around what everyone else already saw and started dating, I’d sent up a silent prayer that it wasn’t a huge mistake.
Because by that time, Joey was already the daughter of my heart. A serious little girl, she’d grown into a driven young woman. She would lend a hand whether it was in the fields or at the kitchen sink without anyone ever asking her to. She knew what she wanted—horses—and how she was going to get there before most others her age had their driver’s license.
Her seriousness focused Jax, who would rather party with the lacrosse team than work on a history paper. The semester they started dating, his GPA went up and he made the honor roll for the first time ever. And in return, he gave her the fun and silliness that she’d always seemed to be on the outside of looking in. He carved out a place of belonging for her.
They balanced each other and I hoped that it could stay that way without anyone getting hurt. Only now someone had.
I walked into those hospital doors not knowing if I’d lost family and future.
Phoebe is a woman you want on your side in a crisis. She was waiting for me by the desk. Joey’s parents, April and Forrest, came in behind me and before anyone said a word, Phoebe was dragging us back through a set of doors marked Do Not Enter. She’d found them, she said. Her face was grim and I knew the news wasn’t good.
She marched us through the chaotic maze of a busy emergency room. Past families facing the worst night of their life. Past relieved parents who were just told good news. Past exhausted nurses who were long over the end of their shift.
They’re in there,” she said, stopping at a curtained off corner.
Forrest pushed past us and yanked open the curtain. When I saw Jax standing on his own two feet I went weak in the knees. When he turned to face us and I saw the blood…
There is nothing like being a parent. A piece of you is walking around the earth maybe with your eyes and your wife’s smile. And that piece of you has to grow up and build his or her own life, feel the pain of that life, and find the joy in that life. When you see that piece of you hurt and scared, it is a horrible, helpless feeling. Because you just want to fix it, swoop in and take over and solve the problems and protect them from this hurt.
But you can’t. Because they aren’t just a piece of you. They are a human being learning how to survive and thrive in this world. And if you clean up every mess and bandage every scrape and shield them from every hurt, you take that self-reliance away from them. And that is what turns children into good men and women.
Jax was holding gauze on his forehead with one hand while gripping Joey’s hand in the other. His t-shirt was missing and I had a sick feeling it had to do with the blood that was drying on his chest and torso. Blood that wasn’t his.
Joey’s eyes were closed. Her face whiter than the sheet under her head. Her right arm was being worked on by two women in scrubs. A bag of blood hung from her IV pole.
“My little girl.” Forrest stared down brokenly at his daughter.
April was crying silent tears at the foot of her bed and Phoebe, my rock, had her arm around her as if to keep her from dissolving.
“I’m sorry Dad,” Jax said, not daring to take his eyes off of Joey’s face.
“It’s not your fault. Everything is going to be okay.”
“She hasn’t woken up yet,” he said. His thumb stroked hers over and over again a silent willing to wake up.
Forrest pressed too close to the doctor and nurse and was ordered back.
“She’s my daughter. I’ve more of a right to be here than him,” he said, pointing at my son. Jax gave no reaction to the words.
The doctor, a woman in her early thirties, placed the last suture in Joey’s arm before turning around on her stool to face him.
“I understand that you’re upset, but now is not the time.” Her voice was calm and cool and I could see why she was in emergency medicine. The voice of reason in a world of chaos.
“Is she going to be okay?” April’s whisper of a voice asked the one question we all needed the answer to.
“Are you her mother?” the doctor asked, stripping off her gloves and tossing them in a bin on the floor.
“Yes.”
“Joey’s lost a lot of blood. But Jax here did a good job with a makeshift tourniquet at the accident. Without it, I don’t know if she would have made it. She’s going to have a couple of transfusions and I think once she has that blood in her she’s going to wake up. Recovery will take a while, but she will recover.”
I saw Forrest working hard to swallow some of the emotion that must have been choking him. Felt the wave of hope and relief that crashed over all of us at the news. All of us, except Jax. There was no sign that he was even hearing our conversation, his attention never wavered from Joey as if he was willing her to wake up.
“Graduation is in five days…” April trailed off.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s out of here and walking across that stage,” the doctor said, laying a cool hand on April’s shoulder.
