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“Thank you.” The words came out like a whisper. Her chest was so tight it was a surprise she could say anything at all. After Lucas got the call from Ember, all three of them had run back to the Beach Club, Nate picking her up twice when she’d stumbled over her bare feet. Her heart was racing so fast it hurt.
Nicholas. Tears stung her eyes at the thought of her baby in pain. God, she couldn’t stand this. She never should have left him, and she damn sure shouldn’t have left the Beach Club without her cellphone. That thing was almost a part of her body, she took it with her everywhere in case of a situation like this.
Except for the one time she needed it.
If she’d answered Cora’s call, she would have been here at least twenty minutes earlier. Nick had to be so scared, in pain, wondering where the hell she was. What kind of mother was she to be so late?
“Can I help you?” the receptionist at the front desk asked her.
“My son’s been brought in with anaphylactic shock. His name’s Nicholas Newton.”
With an allergy as serious as his, Nick had more than his share of ER visits. But the anaphylaxis had never been as bad as Cora had described. His babysitter knew to inject him with epinephrine as soon as he showed signs of a reaction, but the little vial would only be enough to keep him going until he got to the hospital.
The nurse tapped on the keyboard, staring at the monitor in front of her. “Ah yes, he’s in a triage room. Go on through. Your family’s already in there.” As soon as the nurse pressed the button, Brooke pushed her way through the doors, and into the waiting room lined with blue plastic chairs.
Before she’d even scanned the room, Cora was running over to her, throwing her arms around Brooke. “Oh God, Brooke, I’m so glad you’re here. He kept asking for you.”
“Where is he?” Brooke’s need to see Nick overrode any other thought. She’d comfort Cora later. Right now she needed her son.
“In room three. Doctor Westbrook is with him.”
Brooke swallowed, trying to keep the tears at bay. Nick didn’t need her to break down, he needed his mom. Somehow she had to stay strong. “Was it bad?” she whispered.
Cora nodded. Tears were pouring down her face. “He couldn’t breathe.”
A wave of nausea passed over her – so strong she could taste it on her tongue. The door opened and a nurse walked in, a clipboard in her hand. She scanned the room, blinking as she took in all the people. “Nicholas Newton’s family?”
Half the room stood up. There was Ember and Ally – and Nate and Lucas who had recently arrived – along with her parents, and Max and Ellie.
Then there was the man in the corner. Aiden was leaning against the wall, in his dress pants and crisp white shirt. His hair messed up as though he’d been raking his fingers through it. His jaw was clenched, a muscle jumping in his cheek. One of his hands was clasped around the wrist of his other arm, running up and down his exposed, warm skin.
His head was angled down as though he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. She swallowed hard, her heart so full of words she didn’t know how to say. There was no time to say them anyway.
“I’m Nicholas’s mother,” she said to the nurse. “How is he?”
“He’s stable. Would you like to see him?”
Brooke nodded. The nurse led her in the direction of the treatment rooms, her voice low as she explained his treatment so far. “He’s got an oxygen mask on and an IV in for fluids.”
Brooke could barely take it in. The nurse stopped talking as she pulled the door open to Nick’s room, standing aside so Brooke could walk in.
He was hooked up to fluids, with a oxygen mask strapped across his mouth and nose. His chest was rising up and down rapidly, his breathing labored as they tried to get as much oxygen into him as possible. He was hooked up to a monitor – showing his blood pressure was low – and in the other arm he had a catheter stuck into his hand, pumping fluids into him, in an effort to stabilize his vitals.
It felt like a knife to her heart.
“Miss Newton?” a woman in a white coat asked. In her mid-thirties, with short blonde hair and a smile, the doctor walked toward Brooke, holding out her hand. “I’m Doctor Westbrook.
Brooke took her proferred hand and shook it. “Can you tell me how Nick is?”
“Of course. You’re aware of his anaphalaxis, right?”
“Yes. We’ve been here a few times before.”
“Okay. From what we can tell, Nick ate a cookie and had an immediate reaction – worse than usual from your babysitter’s account. We’re doing what we usually do in this situation, making sure we can open his airways, and trying to get
his blood pressure up. He’s dealing with it like a champ. I wish all my patients could be like this.” She inclined her head at Brooke’s son. “You can go sit with him. He’s awake.”
Nodding, Brooke walked over to the empty spot beside Nick’s gurney, gently laying her hand over his. “Hey baby, I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”
