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“Dana?”
She jolted up, pushing back the hood to reveal a nasty black eye. “Oh, Thea!”
She wrapped me in a hug.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home?”
Warren stirred from his seat, standing up. “Morning.”
“Good morning. What are you both doing here?”
Dana pulled away, tears streaming down her face. “How is he?”
“Still out,” I said. “We should know more later this morning. You need to get home though. Get some rest.”
“I feel awful. It was my fault we were in there. He shoved me out of the way.”
“Well, had he been thinking, he should have pulled you both out of the way, but Benny is a little stubborn,” I said with a terse smile. “He’ll be fine. He got run over by a 4-wheeler in high school and lived to tell the tale. This isn’t much different.”
Only the four-wheeler hadn’t knocked him unconscious and he’d been out of the emergency room in less than a day.
“Let me get your number and I’ll let you know when we get an update. I’m sure Benny wouldn’t want you recovering in the waiting room. And that black eye looks nasty. You should get some ice on it.”
We exchanged numbers with a promise that I’d text when I had news. Good news, I hoped, though with each passing hour, the chances of Benny emerging unscathed decreased. By the time I made my way back into Ben’s room, Martha and Pete had woken up.
“Any updates?” I asked, setting food onto a bedside cart, my eyes glued on Ben.
“A nurse stopped in while you were gone. She said the medical team should be in around ten,” Martha sighed. She raked a hand over her face and back through her peppered hair. Heavy bags hung under her eyes, and I winced at how the last day had aged her.
I opened a yogurt, sticking a spoon into it and handing it off to her. Reflexively, she took a bite.
“I booked two hotel rooms across the street and Millie and Len are coming down with a car and some clothes. Just tell me what you want them to pick up.” I said with a smile.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Martha smiled up at me, exhaustion on her face. “Pete and I want to talk to the doctor this morning, but why don’t you get us checked in and take the afternoon shift with Ben?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped myself. “Will you text me as soon as the doctor comes by? Tell me what’s going on?”
“Of course. Go get some sleep.”
* * *
I didn’t sleep. Not immediately, anyway. I took a long shower and sent instructions to Millie. Pete called to let me know the doctor had come by. The doctor said all his labs and X-rays looked good. No more bleeding. No more surgeries. No sign of permanent damage.
I breathed a sigh of relief and promised I’d come back to the hospital soon to let them sleep. With some reassurance that Ben would be okay, I fell into a deep sleep. When the alarm went off, I bumbled around in the dark hotel room, disoriented and foggy. I called down to the front desk and found that Millie and Len had dropped off the bags an hour ago.
I retrieved my clothes, taking a shower and dressed up as much as I could manage without my makeup bag or any hair tools besides a cheap dryer provided by the hotel. Feeling at least somewhat like myself, I left the hotel and made the short trek back to the hospital.
Millie sat on the couch, talking to Pete and Martha, while Len kept vigil beside Ben’s bed, worry lining his face.
“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded, not pulling his eyes off of Ben. “Fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Len sighed, wiping a hand over his face. “I’ll be better once he wakes the fuck up, obviously. Don’t make this about me.”
“I’m not making it about you,” I sighed, suppressing the very real urge to roll my eyes. Len’s orneriness annoyed me in the best of situations, and we weren’t in the best of situations. “I just…I know about Thursdays.”
