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I felt his hands on my face. In my hair. “I’m sorry I questioned you like that, but I’m scared …”
I opened my eyes to find him watching me. “Of what?” I whispered.
“Of this disappearing.”
We kissed again, not wanting to stop until Katie’s enthusiastic shrieks pulled us away from each other.
“Katie and I will meet you at the gazebo around 5:30,” I promised.
“I’ll be there, ice cream cone in hand.” He smacked me on the ass as I hurried out the door.
**
I was running late. I checked the time on the dash, and it was already 5:25. I had just picked up Katie, who was singing along nonsensically to the music I put on for her.
Mrs. Webber had wanted to show me the terra cotta pots she and Katie painted today. “We did this one for you,” she said, picking up a pot that had been splashed with red and orange paint, with Katie’s green handprint right in the middle.
Of course, I started crying.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Kyle’s mom handed me a tissue.
“I’m not upset. Not at all. I love it. Thank you so much. I’ll treasure it always.” Then I hugged her.
She patted me on the back. “We know you’ll always make sure our girl is safe. We appreciate that.” She looked a little uncomfortable. “Okay, well, you’d better get to the carnival. Kyle will be waiting.” She put the pot in a bag and carried it out of the car while I wrangled Katie and the diaper bag.
“Thanks, Gail. For the pot. For trusting me with Katie. You know, for everything.” I smiled at the older woman then pulled out of their driveway.
We were heading toward town, and I was driving faster than I normally would. Kyle had already messaged, asking where we were. With one hand on the steering wheel, I grabbed my phone, attempting to tap out a quick message to let him know we were on our way.
“Whity!” Katie squealed from the backseat, and my heart flipped. Did she just say my name? I glanced at her in the rear-view mirror.
“Oh, sweetheart—”
The impact was violent, the airbag activating and causing my head to whip backward at such a force I thought I had broken my neck.
The car spun, slamming into a lamppost. I could hear Katie screaming from the backseat. I tried to turn around to comfort her, but I couldn’t move my body. The entire right side of the vehicle was crunched in, and Katie’s car seat had been crushed into the side.
“Katie!” I yelled, pushing down on the airbag. “Oh my God, Katie!” I was stuck; my legs were pinned beneath the dashboard. “Help! Someone, please!” I shouted and shouted until my voice went hoarse all the while Katie screamed. I could hear her pain. Her fear. Oh my God, what have I done?
Then someone was talking to me, telling me the police and paramedics were on their way and that I shouldn’t try to move. “Katie. The little girl in the backseat. Is she okay?” She had gone quiet, and that filled me with a terror I had never felt before.
“Just try to stay calm,” the woman said, but I could hear the tremors in her voice. She was scared too. What was wrong with Katie.
“Katie!” I sobbed, but I couldn’t hear her. “Katie,” I cried over and over again.
The paramedics arrived after what felt like an eternity. They pulled me out of the wreckage, and it was only then I saw how bad it was. My car was totaled. I had run a red light and was T-boned. The other car’s hood had folded like an accordion, but the man driving it seemed to be okay. He tried to talk to me. To ask me if I was okay, but I was focused on where Katie was.
“Where’s my stepdaughter? She was in the back seat.”
Somehow, I escaped the wreck without any major injuries, only a cut above my eye that would need stitches. The medics insisted I be checked out, but I wanted to know where Katie was.
Then I saw her. Her little body was on a stretcher, and she was being pushed into the ambulance. “I have to go with her. I’m her stepmother!” I shouted, running over to her.
“Okay, you can ride with her to the hospital,” one of the paramedics said as I was already climbing into the back. Katie was awake, her eyes wide as she looked around her. They had strapped her to the gurney, her neck being kept still in case of a spinal injury. She looked so small and scared. I took her hand and immediately started crying.
“I’m so sorry, Katie Boo. I’m so, so sorry.” This was all my fault. I had done this. Gail had just told me they trusted me to keep Katie safe, and I betrayed that trust at the first opportunity because I was more worried about sending a message than driving.
