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Glancing at Cole from the corner of my eye, I can see the tightness in his jaw, the vein popping out on his forehead, his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. He hasn’t said more than a few words since he got the phone call, only enough to brief me on what was happening. That is father had been in a car accident, and is in the hospital.
I followed Cole to the car before he could even ask—no one should have to be alone through something like this. As much as it kills me, my exam will need to take a backseat to supporting Cole right now.
My phone dings, and I scan the text message, feeling my stomach lurch when I take my eyes off the road. Car sickness is the last thing I need right now.
“She’s there now,” I tell Cole. “We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” I type a text reply into my phone.
Some of the tension in Cole’s face eases, but I can practically see the endless array of nightmares running through his mind. Reaching across the gap between us, I give Cole’s leg a reassuring squeeze. A modern, sprawling complex of buildings looms up ahead. We follow the arrows on several signs as we approach, turning left, then right, then right again until we arrive at the entrance. Cole flings the car into a parking spot and hops out. I grab my purse and follow, running to keep up. He reaches out a hand for me when I get close, and I wrap my fingers around his, hoping he can feel the love and support through our grip.
We rush through the glass double doors and that distinct, familiar sterile smell fills my nose. Cole leads the way, past the chairs filled with people waiting, to the receptionist’s desk where a middle-aged woman, looking harried, greets us.
“We’re here to see Adam Reynolds.” Cole drums his fingers on the countertop as the woman takes a moment to type something into the computer. I squeeze his hand again. He would never be rude, but I can see he’s ready to jump out of his own skin if there’s any delay between getting here and seeing his family.
“Breathe, Cole,” I say, so only he hears me. He exhales, a more frustrated sigh than a relaxing breath, but I’ll take what I can get right now.
“Through this door.” She points toward a closed door, pressing a tiny red button on the wall that causes it to swing open. “There’s a room down the hall on the right with seating. A doctor will be out to talk to you as soon as he can.”
“Thank you,” I call back to her as Cole tugs me impatiently through the door.
We pass through into a quiet hallway with butter-yellow walls and a shining white tile floor. The soft beep of machinery coming from a room somewhere is a familiar sound added to the already familiar smell of the place. A low buzz of chatter grows louder as we near the waiting room. It’s half the size of the one on the other side of the door, with plush vinyl chairs, televisions hanging in the corners, and vending machines along one wall, giving the impression that people can expect to be here for a while. A doctor is speaking with a family in one corner of the room, his voice hushed so his words don’t carry. A man sits alone along a wall with his face buried in a book. In the opposite corner, a middle-aged woman sits with her elbows on her knees, her face planted in her palms. It’s Cole’s mom.
I wave hello and she looks up, eyes puffy and makeup smeared. “There she is. Come on.”
Cole wraps his mother in his arms, and I step away towards the vending machines to give them some privacy as she sobs into his shoulder. Swiping my card, I get three bottles of water and a bag of trail mix, knowing that Cole likes to snack when he’s stressed. When I return, they’re sitting side-by-side in the chairs underneath one of the TVs, and Cole is holding his mother’s hand.
“Jordan, dear, I’m so glad you could be here with Cole. I don’t know what he would do without you,” says Debra Reynolds, standing to hug me.
I embrace her and hand her a bottle of water as we separate. “Of course. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, if there’s anything you need.”
“I think now that you two are here, I’ll go use the restroom. I want to see if I can find the doctor, anyway.” She reaches to pat Cole’s cheek before leaving, and he watches her go, his eyes red from the tears he is holding back.
“Here, before you get cranky.” I hand him the other water and the bag of trail mix, which he tears open immediately and starts to devour. “Did they give her any updates?”
“Nothing yet,” he says through a mouthful of peanuts and raisins. “God, it’s so hard for me not to be that asshole that pulls thedoctor cardat another hospital. Stop me if I try to do that, okay?”
“They’ll come as soon as they can. You know what it’s like back there. That’ll be us someday, you know. If Doctor Granby lets me retake the Anatomy exam.” I grab two magazines from a basket on the floor and hand one to Cole. I can only imagine how hard it is for him to sit here waiting, even though he’s aware of what it’s like on the other side of things. “Here, let’s see who can find the most inane article. Loser buys the coffee.”
“Aren’t you worried about the test?” Cole asks. “I don’t think we’re going to get you back in time.”
“I called Doctor Granby’s office and told them I have a family emergency. He likes me, and I’ve never missed a test. I’m hoping he will let me retake it.”
“You really didn’t have to come, Jordan. I’m super appreciative that you’re here, but I know how hard you studied, and how important school is to you.”
“It’s okay, Cole. It’ll be fine. I wouldn’t have made it this far without all the things you’ve done for me. Come on. Let’s play.”
“Okay. But I’m not sure how much an incentive hospital coffee will be. But, game on.” Cole chuckles and starts flipping through the magazine. I know his father is still foremost in his mind, but I hope the distraction is enough to take some of the edge off.
“I’ve got ‘Thirty Ways to Style Your Crocs.’ Go on. Beatthat.“ I expect a chuckle in response, but there’s only silence.
One look at Cole tells me something is up, so I follow his gaze to the doorway, expecting to glimpse the doctor standing there. Instead, there’s a tall, bearded man with a face so handsome it hurts, his chiseled body apparent even through his dark winter jacket.
“Tyson?” Cole says in a curious but excited tone. He hops to his feet, dropping the trail mix and the magazine onto the chair, rushing over with arms wide.
The hot and apparently agitated dude doesn’t return the gesture. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and glares until Cole’s arms drop to his sides, shoulders slumped.
“Cole.” His voice is a sharp growl, like he’s biting off the end of the word. “Don’t you look cozy… Whatever, where’s the goddamn doctor? The nurse already told me I can’t go back there, but I’m about to do it, anyway. Have you seen him yet?”
Cole looks over his shoulder at me, bringing a hand up to the back of his head to ruffle his hair. One of his nervous gestures.
