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I lift Grady’s chin to make sure I have his full attention. “Hey, bud––”
“Say!” he cries, his little voice cracking right along with my heart. But it’s the desperation that really does me in. The need to be comforted. The need to be told that everything’s going to be alright. As carefully as I can, I pull him into my chest and rock him back and forth as his tears stain my winter coat. “Shhh,” I murmur into his mop of hair. “It’s okay.”
“I slipped––”
“I know, baby. I know. We’re going to get you all taken care of, okay?”
His head bobs up and down before he winces in pain. One of his hands clutches at the back of his head, while the other hangs awkwardly between us.
I cringe. “Hey, Grady. Can you tell me what hurts?”
“My head,” he whimpers. “M-my arm. My butt.”
“Okay,” I murmur. “Can I look?”
His fingers are more like little shaking claws as he pries his palm away from the back of his head to show me the damage. Blood soaks it, making my breath hitch. I grab his wrist to keep him from seeing the sticky crimson and wipe it on my black pants.
Shit.
“Let me take a closer look, okay?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he lowers his head to my sternum as we both sit cross-legged on the cold pavement. I can feel a crowd forming around us, but I’m too distracted by the little boy in front of me to care. His thick, wavy hair is sticky with blood as I gently sort through it. Then, the laceration comes into view. It only seems to be an inch or so long, but that doesn’t stop me from grimacing. He’ll probably need stitches. I pull the sleeve of my sweater down to cover my hand, then press it to the wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding. Grady flinches but doesn’t wrench away from me. If anything, he only burrows closer.
“Can I see your arm too?” I rasp.
Still clutching it to his chest, he tries to look brave as he lifts his head. With a wrinkled brow and tear-stained cheeks, he lets me examine the damage. I run my bare hand that isn’t soaking up the blood from his head along his coat-covered arm.
Grady flinches in pain before a concerned Skye squats next to me, chewing on her lower lip. “Is it…?”
I tear my gaze away from Grady and nod.
“Should I call an ambulance?” Skye whispers. I glance up at her and notice the crowd of kids gathered around us.
“Yup. Get everyone inside too. Wouldn't want anyone late for class, right?” I joke, trying to keep my tone light even though I’m freaking out inside.
“Don’t leave me, Say!” Grady begs. He wiggles closer to me like a desperate puppy who’s starved for affection.
I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere, Grady. I promise.”
“I want my dad,” he sobs.
With a quick kiss to the crown of his head, I rock him back and forth in my arms, being careful not to jostle him too much, as I mutter, “I want your dad too.”
Skye disappears, ushering the students into the building while Ms. Rasmussen calls an ambulance and notifies Owen there’s been an accident. Meanwhile, Grady and I huddle together in the cold.
His cries turn into whimpers as the minutes tick past us while we wait for the ambulance to arrive. My black pants are soaked through, and my fingers are numb from being out in the cold air for too long, but it’s the little boy in my arms that guts me.
“Hey, bud?” I whisper, my voice raw from unshed tears.
He peeks up at me with red, puffy eyes. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to call your dad real quick, okay? I think he’d probably like an update, don’t you?”
Lower lip quivering, he nods, so I pull out my phone.
My hands shake as I push the call button. It only rings once before Owen’s gritty voice filters through the speaker.
“Shit, Say, I just got off the phone with-–”
