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She got her badge and clipped it to her blouse, another security guard coming over to bring her down a few hallways and into where patients were in rooms.
She pulled the curtain back and saw her father lying on the bed. There were no nurses around, but his eyes opened.
“Kendra,” her father said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
“I’m not you. I wouldn’t turn my back.”
Her father just stared at her. He had a gash on the side of his head with gauze on it. She wasn’t sure if he had stitches under it or not. There was a bruise forming on the side of his face though.
He was hooked up to IVs, the outline of a brace on his leg under the blankets.
He’d aged and not well. She had to stop and think of his age, as he was a few years older than her mother. At fifty-three he was looking more like mid-sixties.
His hair was gray, what he had left of it. His eyes were surrounded by wrinkles.
He’d gained weight too.
It was probably wrong of her to judge his appearance, but it was hard to not notice.
“Thank you for that,” he said.
“What happened?” she asked. “Or is happening?”
“I’ve got a concussion. I’m not sure what happened. I must have slipped or tripped on the stairs. I don’t remember falling, just waking up at the bottom of them and calling for help. Clinton heard me and came in. I asked him to call you.”
“He did.”
Her father shut his eyes and took a breath. “Sorry. I’m in some pain. I think I’m having surgery and they are just waiting for an OR to open. I don’t know all the details other than my leg is broken in a few spots.”
“I’ll see if I can find someone and talk to them,” she said. It was the least she could do.
She walked out and looked around to the nurse’s station. It occurred to her that her father didn’t say a word about her. Not that it was good to see her. Or that she looked good. Nothing.
Just thanked her for coming.
That was more than she should have figured though.
She moved to the desk and waited until someone was paying attention to her, then asked, “I’m sorry. I’m hoping someone can help me. I’m Kendra Key and my father, Kevin, was brought in. Can I find out what is going on or talk to someone? He said he thinks they are waiting for surgery, but I believe he’s a little groggy.”
“Sure,” the nurse said. “Let me pull up his chart and see what it says.”
She stood there and waited, then was told that yes, her father was in line for surgery and it’d be another hour before he was in. The surgery could be a few hours and then he’d be admitted for the night for observation due to the concussion.
“Thank you,” she said.
She went back to see her father and relay what was going on.
“Are you going to stay?” her father asked.
“I’d like to talk to the doctor before and after,” she said. “Then you’ll be here all night and I’ll go home. There is no reason for me to stay with you.”
“I’ll need someone to bring me home tomorrow,” he said.
“You don’t have any friends or a girlfriend or anything?” she asked. “You always had a ton of friends you’d rather spend time with before when I was growing up.”
She hadn’t meant to be sarcastic, but she couldn’t help the bitterness.
There was no way she could get sucked into this with two parents. She had a job to do on top of it.
