Page 53 of Luci’s Lullaby

“We’ll go over everything once you get here. Come to the emergency room and ask for me,” he instructs as my ears ring.

“Alright, I’m on my way. Thank you.”

“Please take your time,” he says as I end the call.

Charlee stands with her hand over her heart, staring at me. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” I turn, running as fast as my feet will carry me from the store.

I run to my truck and start it before I’m buckled in. I spin my tires out of the parking lot, speeding down Seventeen to 421. It’s the fastest way there and with the way my stomach is knotting, I know I need to get there.

I hit traffic on Forty and I’m about to blow by the time I get through it. I run as many lights as humanly possible with my flashers on. I don’t care about speeding tickets; it’s the time it would take to get one.

I cut across four lanes to whip into the emergency room parking lot. Slamming the truck door as I leap from it, I haul ass through the double doors. Scanning the room, I spot the registration desk.

I rush over, trying to remember the doctor’s name. “Hi, I’m Alden Beck. Doctor Griffin called me about my brother and sister-in-law, Cidney and Shelley Beck.”

“Yes, just a minute please.” She wastes no time picking up the phone and making a call. “He’ll be right out,” she says as she sets the receiver down.

“Thank you.” I begin to pace and realize I haven’t called anyone. “Maybe I should call Walker or Chord.”

“Mister Beck?” I look up and find a man with green scrubs and a cap.

“Yes, I’m Alden Beck.”

He holds the door open and urges, “Follow me.”

I do as he asks, although I’m ready to put him in a chokehold to find out about my brother. He walks up to another desk full of people and picks up a chart.

“Let’s go in here for some privacy.” He points across the hall to a room. Not one person at the desk looks at me, and that makes my hair stand on end.

I walk in, finding the nearest seat. “Please, tell me how Cidney and Shelley are doing.”

“Did you come by yourself, Mister Beck?” he asks as he writes something in the chart.

“Yes, we don’t have anyone else. Our parents died when we were in high school in a plane crash, and Shelley’s mother passed years ago; she has no one else.”

He sits across from me and looks me square in the eye. “Shelley succumbed to her injuries but not before we saved the baby; she’s in Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and doing great. We’re assuming she was close to full term by the baby’s growth. Cidney is in critical condition, but please understand—there’s nothing further we can do. He only has a matter of time.”

The room spins, and I turn to a trash can to vomit. My ears ring from the sound of my heart breaking. I clasp my chest, falling to my knees. An earth-shattering cry builds deep inside me releasing with a wail.

My body shakes as tremors rock it from head to toe. Disbelief swallows me whole as I sit here on my knees, silently begging God to be wrong. For all of this to be a lie.

“Mister Beck. Mister Beck.” The doctor lays his hand on my shoulder, but I can’t speak. “Alden, I think you should go be with your brother as long as you can.”

I nod as tears flood my face. I fight for air as my chest caves from the crushing thought of saying goodbye to Cidney. “Yeah, say goodbye.”

“He can hear you, so talk to him. Tell him everything and be there for him,” he explains to me. I turn to him, gasping.

“Alright.” I struggle to my feet with his help. From this point, everything’s a blur. I know I’m walking, but I have no clue how many steps I’m taking.

I find myself in a room full of beeping machines. The whirling and swooshing fill my ears, a welcome change to the sound of my heart breaking. How does one process this?

I walk to my brother’s side, he’s sedated and peaceful. He reminds me of how our parents looked so many years ago. Sitting by his bedside I feel as though the walls are caving in. My breath shortens, and I struggle for air.

Breaking, the tears fall without restraint. I open my mouth, so I can talk to him, but nothing comes out. I sob, knowing I’ve lost everything. My big brother, my protector, my best friend is no longer.

Taking his hand, I hold onto it as I did in Kindergarten. I clasp it for dear life, praying he’ll take whatever he needs from me and come back. His daughter needs him, I need him.