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Regan grabbed the phone and p
ressed the talk button as she searched in the cupboard for another bottle of red.
“Regan?”
She froze and slowly set down the bottle. “Gwen? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Patrick. We’ve had to rush him to the hospital.” Her voice broke. “Regan, he had a seizure, and we… I don’t know. It doesn’t look good.”
“Where are you? Children’s Hospital or here in town?”
“Here. We’re here.”
“I’m coming. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know who to call. Brad’s out of town. He won’t be home for a couple of hours.”
“I’m coming, Gwen. Hold tight.”
Regan set down her phone. “I’m sorry, Carly. I have to go. We’ll have to do this another night.”
“Sure, honey. You go and do whatever it is you have to do. I’m fine. I need to hunt down Jarret and kick his ass anyway.”
Regan topped up Bella’s food and water and made a note to call her mother later if she was going to be at the hospital all night. She wasn’t exactly dressed for the hospital, but then she wasn’t going there in a professional capacity. Her pink sweatshirt and baggy sweats would have to do. She slipped on her coat and headed to the hospital.
She made it there in record time and immediately went to ICU, nodding to the nurse as she made her way to Patrick’s bedside. Her heart squeezed, painfully so, at the sight of him. He was so little and pale and sweet, and there were so many machines and tubes. He was intubated, and Regan hugged Gwen tightly, her eyes on her colleague, Doctor Hanson.
After a while, Gwen let go and sank to the chair beside her son. Regan tapped her shoulder and whispered, “I’m just going to have a word with the doctor. I’ll be right back.”
She followed Doctor Hanson out to the lounge, and he wasted no time.
“It’s not good. We’re running some tests, but it looks as if the infection surrounding the lining of his brain didn’t respond well to the medications prescribed. I’ve been in touch with his oncologist at Children’s Hospital, and we’ve started a new drug protocol. In addition, unfortunately, there is tumor growth. He’s suffered several seizures and is currently in a coma.”
Regan’s heart sank.
“I’ll keep you up to date, Doctor Thorne, but the family is going to have to prepare themselves for the possibility their son might not leave this hospital.”
“Thank you.” She turned and walked back to the bedside, sinking to the floor beside Gwen’s chair.
“It’s bad, Regan,” Gwen whispered. “Really bad. I can feel it. He seemed okay, you know?” She smiled through her tears. “He talked to Wyatt yesterday, and they made plans to play Xbox when he’s back. Brad’s out of town, so he’s been sleeping with me, and I thought he was off. I should have brought him in last night.”
“Don’t second-guess yourself. You can’t do that, Gwen. Patrick’s a sick boy, but he’s also a fighter. If anyone can come through this, he can.”
Gwen looked down at her, and Regan’s heart crumpled, crushed beneath the sadness in the woman’s eyes.
“Have you ever seen someone this sick come back to you?”
Regan slowly shook her head. “It doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”
The two women fell into silence, each lost in thoughts, thinking of things that could have been and might not be.
“Brad will be home soon.” Gwen broke the silence as they watched the nurse come in and chart Patrick’s vitals. “I think Wyatt should know. I think Patrick would want that.”
Throat tight, Regan nodded. “Do you want me to call him?”
“Could you do that?”
“Of course.”
