How to Fall Head over Heels
by TheBucketWoman
Disclaimer: As cool as it would be to be paid to write for television, alas, it doesn't seem to be happening just yet. In the meantime please don't sue this poor broke chickie for playing.
Chapter Two
"Now why did I do that," George wondered. "Why would I get up and go over there when I knew damn well they weren't letting me near him."
He didn't really expect an answer. Casey had seen them wheel Derek in, which meant that she had seen the same mess he had. She sat back down and managed to fold herself completely into one of the molded plastic chairs in the waiting room. Her head was between her knees and her hair was completely covering her face and partially curtaining her legs. She was getting some rock salt on the edge of the chair. He sat down next to her again and put an arm around her. She took that as her own personal opportunity to cover his shirt in snot. For about the third time, he thanked God that the Davises had taken the other three.
He wanted to call Nora again, but there were signs on every wall saying that he couldn't use the cell phone in the hospital, and the pay phone opposite the vending machine was out of the question because he didn't dare move Casey yet. She wasn't done. He shifted in his chair; he'd be there for a while. His phone hand itched.
And he just realized that when the principal called him at work, he'd taken off, leaving his computer on and an email in progress. Things had seemed so simple then. All he'd been worried about was whether to hyphenate in loco parentis. He really should call someone and tell them the shut the computer down. Electricity doesn't grow on trees.
He was sorta glad that Casey hadn't listened to him when he'd told her not to come. She was a distraction at least. He had told her to get the kids and wait at home. It had seemed like the best move at the time. Then, he saw her standing at the ER doors, dancing from foot to foot, and fiddling with the zipper of her coat.
"Emily said she'd watch the others." She had on her I-will-not-be-moved face. It was so much like Nora's I-will-not-be-moved face that he caved immediately. He wondered if Lizzie could do it, too. If so, the next few years would be even more of an adventure than he thought.
Which brought him to where he was now, one teenaged girl attached to his side, her face as hot as a dashboard in August. She pulled herself off of him after a minute or three and apologized for his shirt.
"No big," he said, finally getting up to stretch. He gestured toward the doors. "I need to call your mother."
"Uh-huh." She reached for a magazine and tried to look interested in it. The illusion was a bit more convincing once she turned it right side up. George shook his head as he walked out. For the first time in fifteen years George wanted a cigarette.
He hit number two on his speed dial. It rang long enough for him to be convinced that he was going to get the voice mail again, then Nora picked up.
"Georgie," she said and George felt for a second that all would be well. She had that effect on him. "I'm coming to the exit now. I should be maybe five minutes. Have you heard anything? What exactly did happen? Was anyone else hurt? Have you seen him yet? What--"
"We're waiting," George said.
"Who's 'we'?"
"Couldn't keep Casey away," he said. Then, before she could say anything else, "Emily is watching the other three."
"What do they know?"
"Nothing so far," he said. "I told Casey not to tell them anything. I mean, we can tell Lizzie and Edwin later tonight. After Marti goes to bed."
"Oh God." Nora said. "How are we going to tell Marti?"
"One thing at a time." George said. "She's hanging out with Dimi, probably bossing him into a tea party or something right now, and the less she knows the better." On that note, Nora decided to let him go so that she could find parking. He flipped his phone shut as another ambulance pulled up. They were pulling out what looked to be another teenaged boy. George thought that it really must suck to be a paramedic.
"Sam." George said, almost to himself. Sam? he thought.
"Sam, what the hell?" George said. Sam looked away.
"Sir, we're gonna need you to step back." one of the paramedics said as they wheeled the gurney past.
As George got back inside, it became clear that Casey had seen Sam go by, too. She was dancing from foot to foot again, and wringing the magazine she'd been holding.
"What's going on here today?" she said, then she shook her head once, quickly. "OH! George, the doctor!" she said, pointing out a shortish man who looked to be Derek's age, but had to at least be thirty. Maybe this is a sign of old age, George thought. Everyone looks sixteen to me. I am not old enough for this to be happening.
"Mr. Venturi," he said. "I'm Dr. Rickman. I've been treating your son, Derek."
"Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Rickman said. "If you would just come with me, I'll take you to him." George began to follow him through the automatic doors, beckoning for Casey to follow. She tossed the magazine she'd been shredding into an empty chair and scurried along behind him.
Dr. Rickman led them to an empty exam room. He said, "Okay, Derek's just gotten back from his MRI and I know that the both of you will be wanting to see him, but before we go, I figured a status update would be in order.
"He was hit in the throat with a hockey puck, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you how serious that can be, but so far, he's been lucky. He's alert, and oriented, and we were finally able to give him something for the pain. The MRI shows some swelling of the larynx, which is why we had to insert a breathing tube, to secure his airway. So this means that he'll be unable to speak for a while--"
"How long do you have to keep the tube in?" Casey asked. George pointed to her vaguely as if she'd read his mind.
"What she said," George added.
"That, I can't say for sure. We'll need to keep an eye on him. Officially, he's serious, but stable, and we need to watch for complications."
"Like--" Casey did it again.
"Well, the laryngoscopy showed hematomas on both vocal folds. With injuries such as this, there's the risk of vocal fold hemorrhage. Plus we need to watch for further swelling."
"What's a hematoma?"
"Bruise," George said.
"Exactly," Rickman said, grinning. "Grey's Anatomy?"
"M.A.S.H.," George said. "And a little E.R, because my wife has a crush on the tall guy,"
"With the Croatian accent," Rickman finished for him.
"Um, helloo," Casey said.
"Sorry," Dr. Rickman said. "So the first goal is to get him breathing on his own again, then, we'll have a better idea about what to do next." He paused here, and it seemed like he was waiting for more questions from Casey.
"Why don't I take you to see him now?"
"Okay," George said.
"Oh God," Casey said.
"Need a sec?" Rickman asked.
"Uh huh," said Casey. Her eyes got wide again, her mouth started to quiver, and she began to fan her face with one hand.
"I'll let you guys be for a little while," Dr. Rickman said. "I'll be back to check on him, but if you need me, before then, just have someone page me. Do not hesitate." George nodded, as the younger man left.
How to do this, George thought. He spun Casey toward him and took her by the shoulders.
"Take a breath," he said. "I'm gonna go in first, and I'm thinking we're gonna play this like it's no big thing and emphasize the idea that he'll be okay, you with me?"
Casey nodded.
"He is going to be very busy panicking, and we need to do our best to calm him down. Now I know that this is really unfair to you, but if you can try to keep it together for him, you would be doing so much, okay Case?"
"Uh huh," she said. "But he knows that I cry over everything and if I go in all calm and stuff won't he be thinking that that means he's really gonna die? What if--"
Casey Logic, George thought. "He won't be thinking that at a time like this; trust me." He hugged her. He promised God and all the saints whose names he hadn't thought of since his Confirmation that he'd really think seriously about going back to church if Casey could just hold it together for him right now.
"Remind me to raise your allowance," he said.
She smiled at what she probably thought was a very weak attempt at humor then pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the tears.
George took a deep breath and went in to see his eldest son.