“Lacey just phoned me, but the call cut off. She said she’s at the fucking hospital, man! Ring Emmy now and find out what’sgoing on.” I click off the call, not bothering with pleasantries as I speed across town to get to the hospital.
As I’m driving, I think of everything that could happen at twenty-five weeks, trying to remember what I’ve read on whether Peanut could survive or not. My mind is drawing a fucking blank because all I can think of is that Lacey is at the hospital, and I have no idea why.
I make it in record time and dump my truck in the first available space before racing inside. I don’t bother with the receptionist; I can find my way faster. The signs on the ceiling help me make my way to the antenatal ward. When I arrive, the receptionist looks up at me with a bored stare.
“Lacey Peterson, where is she?”
“Who?
“Lacey Peter…uhm, actually, she isn’t Peterson, she’s Lacey Fullman.”
“Again, who? Patient, Doctor, Nurse – give me a clue?” Wow, my mum always taught me to respect women, but she is making it very difficult right now.
“Patient.” I bite the word out.
She clicks her clicky, clacky nails on the keyboard before giving me a bored sigh. “Sorry. No, Lacey Fullman.”
In frustration, I bang on the desk. “Fuck!” Then, because I feel bad, I say, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.” I walk out of the antenatal ward and dial Lacey’s number once more. It rings and rings, then cuts off. I pull at my hair, trying to centre my desperation, before I hear my name.
“Cole!”
I turn to find Emmy standing at the end of the corridor, slightly out of breath.
I walk up to her and grab her in a hug. “Man, am I happy to see you. Where’s Lacey? Is she okay? Is Peanut okay? What happened?”
She pats my back and we break apart. “Calm down, they’re both fine. She isn’t in the hospital as a patient.” I immediately sink to the floor in relief.
“Shit. My fucking heart is going to burst.” She winces at my words. “What is it?”
“That’s kind of spot on. She got a call while we were all out having lunch; her dad had a heart attack, Cole.”
Well shit. I stand back up. “Take me to where she is.”
We walk in silence to the ward where Lacey’s dad is being kept. To see Don Fullman lying there, hooked up to multiple machines and unconscious, is jarring. Lacey is by his side, holding his hand. Hayleigh and Daisy stand behind her. When she notices I’m there, her tear-streaked face looks up to mine, and she breaks down.
I stride over to her and gather her in my arms and stroke her hair. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.” I let her fall apart, and when there are no more tears, I sit her down and turn to say thank you to the girls, but they’re gone.
“Cole, it was awful. He looks so different. He looks so old.”
“Did they say what caused it?”
She shakes her head. “They said he was very lucky. They’ve done surgery on him and fitted some stents. He needs to rest in here for a bit, and then he can go home. What do I do, Cole? What if he wakes up and doesn’t want me here?”
“Lacey, stop. Getting stressed isn’t good for you or Peanut. We’ll deal with that when we get to it. Have you eaten?” She shakes her head, and I look around for a nurse. “Excuse me, nurse?” She walks over to us.
“Yes, what can I help you with?”
“She needs to eat and get something to drink. Is he going to be out a while?”
The nurse's face softens. Immediately understanding, she directs this to Lacey, “Yes, he will be out for a few hours at least.You can’t be sitting here making yourself unwell, honey. Get some food and something to drink. Nurse’s orders.”
Lacey, clearly at war with herself, finally agrees and stands. I grab her hand and squeeze it to let her know I’m here for her.
We go to the hospital canteen and I order us some grilled cheese sandwiches and chips, and grab two waters, while Lacey finds us a seat. I finish paying and walk over to where she’s sitting, setting the water on the table.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look tired, Lace.” I give her a small smile and grab hold of her hand.
“I didn’t even know that my dad had me down as a next of kin. It’s been seven years, Cole. Seven years that he hasn’t once tried to contact me, and…to look at him, he doesn’t look like an alcoholic anymore. I can’t explain it properly, but he looks healthy. Obviously, not the wires and stuff…” She yawns and wipes her eyes before carrying on, “I mean, what does that mean, Cole? Does that mean he got clean? He got clean and just decided, what? To not make contact with me?”
