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When we’re in one of the ER rooms, I call Tracy and tell her there was an accident. She talks to Owen and he reassures her that he’s fine, he’s just worried about Felicity. Tracy is fuming mad when I get the phone again. She goes off about me letting our son ride on the back of a snowmobile with anyone besides me, and especially with an irresponsiblechildlike Felicity.
I tell her no one regrets that either one of them rode snowmobiles tonight more than I do, and that if Felicity doesn’t recover fully, I’ll never forgive myself. That seems to shut her up for five seconds and I choose that time to tell her I’ll text with updates about Owen and hang up.
Next, I get in touch with Felicity’s parents by calling their law office and speaking to Olivia. She gives me David’s number and he sounds as panicked as I feel when I explain that Felicity was injured and still hasn’t woken up. He says they’ll be here as soon as they can and I promise to update him too.
Dr. Emma sticks her head in the door when we get back from X-rays.
“I have two people looking for you,” she says, smiling warmly, as Ruby and Callum step into the room behind her. “Hi, Owen. Hi, Sutton,” she adds. “I was looking for you earlier, but you were out getting X-rays. Wyatt asked me to come let you know that Felicity is awake and she’s asking about you.” She smiles at Owen when she says that last part. “She’s two rooms down.”
I sag against the back of my chair in relief. “Is she okay?”
“I’ll let Wyatt be the one to fill you in on that. He’s with her now. We’ll be running more tests now that she’s awake.”
“Can I see her?”
“Yes. It’ll put her mind at ease about Owen.”
“We’ll stay with him,” Callum says.
“Thank you. Is that okay with you, son?”
He nods. “Yes. I wish I could go too.” His lip trembles. “Can I go?”
My eyes meet Dr. Emma’s and I shake my head. “Not yet. But I’ll let her know you’re asking about her.”
“Tell her I love her, Dad. Please. Tell her I love her and I’m sorry I didn’t hang on tight enough.”
I pat his cheek. “You do not need to be sorry about that for even a second. Okay? Owen, I promise you, this is not your fault.”
A tear slides down his cheek and I wipe it away, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
“Okay, Dad,” he whispers. “Go see her. I want you to.”
I straighten and nod, thanking Dr. Emma, and I walk out of his room to Felicity’s. Wyatt and a nurse, I think her name is Pam, are in there, blocking her at first.
I peer around them to see Felicity as Wyatt is saying, “Ah, there he is.”
It takes every effort I possess to smile at her rather than cry like a baby, the way I want to. She’s wearing a neck brace and has a big patch high above her left temple. She’s wearing a sling on her left arm and when I walk over and lean close, she blinks and tears run down her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries.
“I’ve tried to tell her Owen is okay. His name was the first word out of her mouth,” Wyatt says, smiling at her as Pam secures the tape on Felicity’s IV.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” I tell her, wishing I could touch her but so scared I’ll hurt her. “This accident could’ve happened to anyone. Owen wanted me to tell you he loves you, and he’s sorry he didn’t hold on tight enough, so there’s entirely too much guilt going around.” I reach out and catch her tears, my finger caressing her cheek for a secondafterward. “We’re worried about you. What’s going on?” I glance at Wyatt and he lifts his eyebrows toward Felicity.
“You can tell him everything,” she says.
“We’re going to run more tests now that she’s awake, to make sure there’s no internal bleeding or anything going on that we’re not seeing. She has a concussion. And eight stitches up there for a nasty cut,” he points to her bandage, “but I did the stitches myself, so the scar will be minimal and her hair will cover it again in no time. She broke her arm…”
“Same one as Owen,” I add.
“He broke his arm?” Her voice wobbles and more tears fall.
I grab the tissue next to her bed and she takes it with her right hand, wiping her eyes and nose. Pam hands her a little bag to put the used tissue in.
“Does your hand hurt?” I ask, pointing to the hand she just used.
“No.”
