Page 12 of Family First
“I think he’s taking it hard,” I admitted, thinking of our young goalie’s dejected posture after that lone goal.
Stan nodded. “I’ve sent text for him to bounce back.” Then he smiled at me. “Let’s go home,” he said as I climbed into the driver’s seat. God I hurt, and I wished I’d thought to order a car service, given Stan couldn’t drive.
“Eva, can you drive for me?” I asked when just pressing the gas pedal hurt.
“Sure, Dad,” she said, and we swapped places.
In the back Margo leaned into me, and even buckled in, she was just what I needed, and I think I might have even dozed off.
“What!” Stan exclaimed and startled me back to the here and now.
“What?” I asked because Stan sounded panicked.
My heart skipped a beat as we headed up the driveway. The flashing lights of an ambulance illuminated our home in an eerie glow. Panic surged through me.
“Oh god, Mama?” Stan whispered, his voice shaky.
Eva pulled the car to one side of the ambulance, the four of us spilling out of the car, Stan crutching toward the paramedics, me closing in as fast as I could.
But it wasn’t Mama who needed help—it was Noah. Terror clenched my heart as I saw the paramedics surrounding him, their movements swift and purposeful. My mind raced, trying to grasp the situation, to understand what was happening.
“I tried. He just fell down. He fell down!” Stan’s mama wailed, falling against her son. “He fell down. I tried. I tried!” She was hysterical, I was numb, the girls crying, and Stan was at my side, his hand gripping mine, silent support in the chaos.
Paramedic one talked over the noise, paramedic two silent and checking for signs of…
Life?
My world crumbled. No.
Noah!
They rolled him onto a gurney, and in the flashing light he was deathly pale and still.
“We’re taking him to St. Margarets,” paramedic one announced as they lifted the gurney into the ambulance.
“I’ll drive,” Eva announced as we went back to the SUV, Mama staying at the front door, crying, and wringing her hands. I hadn’t even spared a thought about the house, the unlocked front door, or our security gates being wide open.
I couldn’t think at all.
We followed the ambulance in silence, abandoning the SUV in the closest parking lot to the Emergency room entrance, then hurrying in to be guided to a room to one side.
“It was flu,” I said to the door. “Just flu. What happened? Stan?”
Stan was white, stiff, staring at the same door as if he were willing it to open. He didn’t say anything.
“Fuck! Stan!” I half-shouted at him, my voice loud in the small room.
Margo started and grabbed on to Eva who patted her and winced. I went for the door, yanking it open, and finding a medic on the other side.
“Mr.…”
“Gunnarson, Noah’s dad, Gunnarson-Lyamin, we’re Noah’s dads.” The words tripped over each other.
The medic slipped into the room, closed the door behind them, and I read his name. Dr. Garcia. His badge was a teddy bear, with the name on its belly. The fuck? Where was Noah?
“I’m Doctor Luca Garcia, and I’m the resident pediatrician. Would you like to sit down?”
“No, I don’t want to sit down!” I almost yelled.
