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A doctor in a white lab coat appears from the door Maisie, Hunter, and the worker just came out of. He has a clipboard and a smile—that is, until she sees me, Will, Tyler, Maisie, Hunter, the nurse, and hospital worker standing out here in the hallway.
“Is there an issue?” the doctor asks the two nurses.
“We’re on our way to room 720,” the hospital worker says.
“These five seem to be having a reunion of sorts,” the nurse states, unamused.
“Why was she back there?” I’m pointing to Maisie and asking the doctor.
The doctor seems perplexed. “Parents are allowed to accompany minors in the hospital.”
“She’s not the mother,” I deadpan.
“Who’s the father?” the nurse asks, now more interested in the dynamic of our group than her need to scurry us out of here.
“I am.” Tyler raises a hand.
“Who are you?” she asks Will, to which Tyler follows with an exasperated, “Yes, who the hell are you?”
“William is my friend,” I explain.
Tyler takes in our all-black ensembles, me in a dress and Will in a button-down. “Were you on a date?”
“Melissa needed an assistant for a wedding tonight, so I helped out,” Will answers.
“I thought you were a cop?” the nurse asks, confused.
“I am,” Will says at the same time as I explain, “He is.”
Maisie lifts a finger toward Will. “I remember you. You came to my salon for the hair color card. Your hair looks really nice, Melissa.”
Tyler scowls. “This guy went to your salon for what?”
“A hair color card,” Maisie, Will, and I say in unison.
“What the hell is that?” Tyler asks incredulously.
The nurse looks to Maisie. “If you’re not the mom, then why were you with the boy?”
I raise my hands in exasperation because that’s a really great question.
I’m about to go into a long soliloquy about the dynamics of our family—because that’s what I’m good at—when a small voice chimes in from below us.
“That’s my dad. That’s my mom. This is Maisie, Dad’s girlfriend, who makes really good French toast, and this is Will. He’s a cop who was once shot and is helping me put on a magic show.”
Well, he left out a few adjectives and angsty past-tense descriptions, but Hunter’s synopsis of our crew is very accurate.
The doctor steps forward and takes center stage in our little family show. “While this visitor count is well over the hospital limit, I am happy to see Hunter is recalling his facts. The CT scan was unremarkable, which means there is no indication of a brain bleed or swelling. As for the wrist, it appears to be a hairline fracture. If you ask me, this young man has an angel over his shoulder.”
For the first time in an hour, I smile.
“Now that you have good news, I am going to say this one time. Please, if you are not the biological parents of the child, you need to leave.” The nurse is firm yet kind.
The doctor walks down the hallway, and Hunter groans because he wants to go home too.
Will walks over to Hunter and gives him a pound. “You gave everyone a good scare tonight. Next time, stick to the sidewalks.”
Hunter looks down at his wrist in a makeshift splint. “Does this mean we can’t levitate?”
