Page 36 of Freeze Frame

JOSH

Hannah was okay,the nurse had said. Injured, but shaken up. She’d be all right, though. She’d be better when I could get her out of the hospital and away from the smell of antiseptic or whatever it was that made a hospital smell like a hospital.

I talked to one of the nurses at the unit station in the emergency room, a nice woman who looked like she was everyone’s grandma. Her hair was up in a bun and a pair of thick glasses sat on her face. She smiled warmly at me then looked ten kinds of relieved when I said I was there for Hannah.

“She’s right through there. Curtain four. She’ll be discharged soon, I think. You can let her know.”

Scurrying past the other curtains, I took a breath to steady myself and slipped past curtain four.

“Knock, knock,” I said softly as Hannah came into view. Her long hair was in a frizzy braid that had seen better days. Pain and panic pinched her features. She looked tired too. Dark circles satunder her eyes like bruises on her face. “Hannah Banana, what happened? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I forgot my phone.” Her lip trembled; then her whole face crumpled, and I went to her and pulled her into my arms. I let her cling to me, and I stroked her hair, whispered reassuring things to her, like it was going to be okay. I would look after her. She wouldn’t be alone here.

It took her a few minutes to compose herself, but eventually she was able to pull away. I located some tissues and plucked a few from the box for her. “What happened?”

Hannah’s arm was in a sling, but otherwise she looked unharmed. Just anxious and miserable from being in the hospital. Hannah’s brother had spent his entire young life in the hospital getting treatment after treatment, trying to stop the disease that ultimately took him. Hospitals brought back a lot of bad memories for Hannah, who’d been forced to sit by and watch her brother get sicker and sicker, and her parents get more and more worried. And then there were three.

After the death of her brother, that’s when things really fell apart. Hannah’s dad wasn’t able to take the pain of losing a child. He fought with Hannah’s mom constantly until one day he just didn’t come home. Hannah was barely eighteen when she lost her mom, and her dad never did come back. Hannah hadn’t come out as trans until she was in her late teens, but she confessed to me once that maybe her dad had known all along and if she’d have been a boy, her dad might have stuck around after her brother died.

Hospitals brought all that back for her.

“I don’t want to get into it. Not here. Okay?” Hannah sniffled and clutched the tissue in her hand. “Thanks for coming for me. I hope your menace of a dog isn’t going to get you evicted in the time it takes you to drive my ass home. Or did he finally learn to be quiet when you’re not home?”

“Nitro is fine and is with a friend actually. So no, my tenancy is safe. I can take my time getting you home and settled and bugging you to tell me how you got yourself in this state.”

Hannah, of course, grabbed on to the mention of a friend. “What friend? Who did you leave your dog with?” She scrutinized me like she could tell all my secrets just by squinting.

“David showed up at my place.” I took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Which was mortifying, by the way. He walked right into my depression nest.”

Hannah gasped. “Oh, honey, noooo.”

“Oh, baby, yes. Take-out containers. Laundry and general mess. And me, who hadn’t seen a shower in a day or so past my expiration date.”

Hannah, of course, knew all about the man I’d met and how much I liked him, and then I’d updated her when he turned out to be Jax’s father.

“Did he take one look at your messy apartment and leave?” She smirked at me because she was an asshole who already knew the answer.

I made a show of rolling my eyes. “He told me to shower, and he tidied my house. We were… uh… talking… when I got the phone call.”

“Oh, God. You were going to have wild, crazy, not-make-up because you weren’t fighting sex.”

“We still are. It’s just on hold while I get you sorted.”

The curtain pulled to the side and an incredibly hot doctor stepped into the room. “Okay, Miss Hannah, your collarbone is broken. I’ll need you to keep that sling on for at least three weeks while it heals. You should take it out of the sling a few times a day and gently straighten your arm so your elbow doesn’t get stuck like that. Regular pain medication should be enough to ease your discomfort.”

“Can I go now?” Hannah shimmied toward the edge of the bed, using her good arm to steady herself as she got off the bed.

“You’re free to go. I hope the rest of your day goes better.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I said as Hannah stepped out of the curtained area and made a beeline for the exit. I hustled after her. “Holy shit, Hannah, I know you hate the place, but I don’t think you’re supposed to sprint in the ER.”

She didn’t speak until she was outside. She took a few steps out of the main doors, then stopped and inhaled a deep breath. Then another. In through her nose. Less to calm herself and more to cleanse herself of the lingering hospital smell.

Her hatred of hospitals looked a lot like PTSD sometimes. It might not have been her who was sick, but the effects of her brother’s disease haunted her, nonetheless.

“Have you ever thought about seeing a therapist, Hannah?”

She whirled around and looked at me like I’d grown three more heads.