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“Harrison?” she murmurs. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes are barely open, and I realize that she has probably lost a pint of blood by the look of her clothes.
“I'm taking care of you, Beth. Taking you to see a doctor down the hall here,” I try to explain simply, not sure how lucid she is.
“You smell good,” she whispers against me, burying her head into my neck, and I chuckle, glad she is still talking and awake. I try to ignore the tug in my chest that happens every time I am near this woman.
People stare at me as I maneuver my way through the waiting room and down the hallway, following the nurse. I know I have been recognized as some of them have their cell phones out and are now recording my movement. I pull Beth tighter, shielding her from the cameras. I look straight ahead and breathe a sigh of relief when we step inside exam room one where a doctor is waiting.
“Ahh, Beth, did you miss me?” the older doctor asks with a small chuckle as I lay her on the exam table, and he smiles warmly at her. Even though I place her gently, I see her grimace, as she tries to move her body into a more comfortable position.
“Hey, Doc. Sorry it has been a little while since my last visit,” she says, groaning softly.
“So what happened today?” he asks with an air of familiarity. Between him and the nurse, they both seem to know Beth well.
“I fell off the roof,” she states, and I almost fall over myself.
“The roof? What the hell were you doing on the roof?” I ask, shocked.
“Fixing a leak. I cut my hand on the tin,” she says, lifting her hand and placing it on her chest, giving us all a view of the bloody mess it has created.
“Okay, I will get this cleaned up and then we can assess the damage,” the doctor says.
“I’m Doctor Standford. Will you be waiting in here or in the hallway, Mr. Rothschild?” he asks me, and I look down at Beth and notice her eyes closed, a small puff of air leaving her lips.
“I’ll step out. Give you some privacy,” I say before I slowly walk out the door, closing it behind me. Finding a plastic white chair at the front of the room, I take a seat, exhaustion nipping at my heels. I lean my elbows on my knees and keep my head down, trying to get my heart rate under control.
“Don’t worry about Beth, she will be right as rain. Always is. She just lost a little too much blood, is all. Now are you calling her father or am I?” the nurse says from beside me.
“I’ll organize it, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Rothschild,” she says, her smile small, and I watch her waddle back down to the nurses’ station to attend to the long line. I watch for a moment, having never seen anything like it before in my life. I have been to hospitals, many, in fact, but only for ribbon cuttings and seeing my father before he passed, all of which are state-of-the-art private facilities that are spotless, with lots of staff and up-to-date equipment.
Here, it is like a war zone. The floor tiles are cracked, the walls need new paint, a light flickers constantly down the hall, and the equipment looks to be decades’ old as they’re being passed from room to room. I grab my cell and pull up my contacts, looking for Beth’s emergency contact details and finding her father’s number.
After a brief rundown and him not sounding at all surprised or shocked at Beth being in hospital, I organize to send Tom over to the community center to collect him and take him home, which he only agreed to if I promised to bring Beth straight home as soon as Doctor Standford has finished up with her. After I hang up, I look at my phone for a beat. I don’t think her father likes me very much, if the one and only time of meeting at the community center is anything to go by, and my call today will no doubt make him like me even less.
I call my brothers, and then Oscar, also asking him for a rundown on our healthcare policy, this hospital needing to be the first place we invest in and something that we will do immediately.
As I finish up on all the phone calls, Doctor Standford comes out of the room.
“She is good as gold. A few stitches in her hand, and she should take it easy for the next day or so. There’s a large bruise on her hip, but otherwise, she is tough as nails, that one,” he says with a smile before the head nurse scurries over and drags the weary older doctor down the hall to the next room to another patient.
I open the door and walk into the silent room, Beth sitting up and looking straight at me.
“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a golf day?” she asks, surprised but tired.
“I came from the course. Tom called me.”
“You didn’t have to come. It is just a little cut.”
“A little cut? You fell off the damn roof!” I’m trying to remain calm, but my voice increases in decibels with every word I say. I run my hand through my hair and start to pace the room.
“I’m totally fine. I don’t want you worrying about me,.” she says, and I can’t believe that she is the calm one.
“You arenotfine. And I will worry about you.” She purses her lips at that, and I already know whatever comes out of her mouth will be something stubborn.
“Harrison. I. Am. Fine,” she says slowly, and I release the breath I was holding, seeing the truth in her eyes. Even if I’m still upset, I believe her.
“I didn’t like waking up alone this morning,” I murmur, feeling the stress in my shoulders. I should probably wait to bring this up, but I can’t.
