Page 438 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
“Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to check on the drivers. Call an ambulance.”
“Wait. What?” Was he crazy? Had he thought this through? “You shouldn’t go out there in these conditions. All it would take is another car coming through the intersection. You’re too exposed!”
“Tinsel,” he purred with a half smile as he put his hand on my knee, “I’ll be fine. You’re off the road and out of the way. I just want to make sure nobody has serious injuries. I’ll get them out of their cars, make sure they’re warm, and we’ll wait for emergency responders. Then we’ll get the hell out of here. Deal?”
My insides felt like they were turning to stone with worry, but what could I do to stop him? He was my boss. He didn’t have to listen to me. I swallowed my panic. “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
He swung up and out of the car and closed the door behind him.
My ears rang with the stillness of the car as I pulled my phone out of my purse with shaking hands. Without the sound of the engine running or the tires biting through the snow, the Christmas music seemed louder. Mariah belted out a high note harmony while I dialed emergency and waited on the line.
An operator answered and asked what I needed.
“Ambulance,” I said thinly. The operator asked me for details, and I gave them the cross streets and a play by play of the crash I’d witnessed. “My friend is checking on the driver and passengers right now. Please hurry. It’s dangerous out here for him.”
I twisted around in my seat and watched as Chadwick jogged across the street and made it to the sedan, where he opened the driver’s side door and bent over.
I prayed nobody was hurt.
I prayed no other cars came blasting through the intersection and crashed into Chadwick and the sedan when his back was turned.
I prayed the ambulance would be conveniently just around the corner.
“Alright, ma’am,” the operator said in a calm, deep voice. He sounded like he’d been doing this a long time. “I’ve dispatched an ambulance and firetruck to you. Please stay on the line with me and tell me when they arrive. Can you see any of the passengers of the cars?”
“No, they haven’t gotten out yet.”
All around me, more people were pulling over and getting out of their vehicles. Chadwick straightened from the driver’s side door and called out orders to the people crowding around. Next, he jogged into the middle of the intersection, his head on a swivel as he kept an eye out for danger, and he approached the minivan.
My heart pounded so hard I could feel my pulse in the side of my neck and the tips of my fingers.
“How are things looking, ma’am? Does anyone look badly hurt?” the operator asked.
“I can’t get a good look. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right. Sit tight. Paramedics will be there soon.”
Through the thickening snow, I saw Chadwick help a man out of the driver’s seat of the minivan. He led the man, who seemed to be unsteady on his feet, out of the intersection and up onto the curb, where the owner of a restaurant ushered them inside out of the snow and into the warmth of his café.
Strangers helped the driver and passenger in the sedan inside, too.
I relayed all of this to the operator.
Chadwick shot a glance in my direction. I turned on the interior light and gave him a thumbs-up, hoping he understood that meant help was on the way. Less than thirty seconds later, the intersection lit up with red flashing lights. An ambulance rolled in, followed shortly by a firetruck and police cruiser, and things moved along quickly from there. Chadwick chatted outside the café with a cop, most likely giving a statement as a witness, and then again with a fireman before turning and hurrying back to the car with his hands crammed in the pockets of his jacket.
He got behind the wheel, soaking wet from the snow melting through his jacket. He shivered and cranked the heat.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked.
He nodded and held his hands in front of the heat vent. “Head injury for the driver of the minivan. Looks like he cracked his head on the side panel when his airbag went off. The people in the sedan seem okay. Shaken but okay.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. And you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you okay?”
