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The doctor smiled. “Sure. We’re not quite ready for you. But it will only be a couple of minutes.” She adjusted the flow of the infusion and walked out of the cubicle, giving them privacy.
Nancy tried to ignore the sterility of their surroundings. “Can I call Greg for you?” It didn’t seem possible that Jenna and Greg were having problems. They were inseparable and always had been.
“This whole baby thing—and what happened with Dad—” Jenna scrubbed at her face again. “Greg has been weird about it. I’m starting to think he doesn’t want kids as much as I do.”
“Maybe he is finding it hard to deal with, too.”
“Greg knows more about dealing with problems than anyone.”
“There’s a difference between dealing with other people’s problems and dealing with your own.” She stood back as the staff came to wheel Jenna to the OR. “Can I call him?”
Jenna hesitated and then nodded. “Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Yes.”
“Do you promise? You won’t go away?”
“I promise I’m not going anywhere.” Nancy reached out and squeezed Jenna’s hand. “It’s going to be fine. All of it.”
She hoped she was right, and she was sure of it when Greg arrived less than fifteen minutes later and she saw his face.
He was ashen, his concern for his wife visible from every angle.
“Where is she? How is she?” Normally calm and contained, Greg looked stressed out of his mind.
“She’s in surgery.”
He sank heavily onto the nearest chair. “They said she crashed the car on the beach road. What was she doing up there?”
Should she tell him? No. It wasn’t her place to do so. “You can ask her that as soon as she wakes up from the operation.”
“Why didn’t she call me?”
Because sometimes a girl wants her mother.
“You’ll be able to talk to her soon.”
“Is she—will she—” He ran his hand over his face and Nancy sat down next to him.
Whatever problems her daughter and her husband might have, they would eventually be solved.
“They think she’ll be fine. The doctors said they wouldn’t remove her spleen unless they had to because that would make her more vulnerable to infection. They’ll repair it.” Nancy hesitated. “She hit her head when she crashed. Her face is bruised. You should probably be prepared for that. It’s a little shocking to see.” Should she mention the baby conversation? No. The poor man had enough to deal with right now.
Greg sat with his elbows on his knees and his hands jammed into his hair. “She could have been killed. Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—” He glanced at her, contrite, and she knew he was thinking about another car accident. The one where the occupants didn’t get to walk away.
“It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right. It was the wrong thing to say.”
“You don’t always have to say the right thing, Greg.” She hadn’t thought about it before, but now she realized what a burden that must be, believing that everyone expected you to have the perfect words to heal all emotional hurts.
It must be exhausting. An extra pressure in a life that was already full of pressure.
She put her hand on his shoulder. “You spend your days dealing with other people’s feelings. Make sure you don’t neglect your own.”
Lauren arrived then, breathless and disheveled. Nancy noticed that Scott was with her.
She stood up. “Jenna will be glad you’re here.”
