Chapter 3:
E.R.
Felicity and I made it to Starling City General's emergency room thirty minutes after Dad ran off carrying Emily in his arms. We were out of breath. She asked the triage nurse where Emily Smoak had been brought. The nurse showed us where to go. When Felicity found Emily unconscious, lying on a hospital bed with an I.V. line on her left arm and an oxygen mask on her face, the tears she had been holding back all this time fell. She took Emily's hand in hers and squeezed it, and then she lovingly kissed her daughter on the forehead, whispering "I love you, Ems" over and over again.
A lump began to form inside my throat, and tears began to pool in my eyes, too. I felt warmth take over my body. I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. At first, I couldn't understand why a brave young man like me would cry over that sight. Even after three encounters, I still considered that I barely knew these people. But as I watched Felicity gently caressing her little girl's golden locks and whispering sweet words her ear, I realized I wasn't crying out of concern. I was crying because I was in pain. I missed having a mother. So much.
"Get a grip, Stephen," I scolded myself, "It's not like you don't have a father who loves you very much." Sure, I know my dad loves me more than anything in this world, but I had known a mother's love before, and it was definitely different.
Since Mom died, I taught myself how to be stronger. When I hurt myself riding my bike and scraped some part of my body, I'd tell myself not to cry. I'd run to the medicine cabinet and treat my wounds myself. Dad didn't need something as petty as that to worry about. When the bigger bullies in school made fun of me, I learned how to turn and walk away, and just bury the ache in the deepest parts of my little heart, because I knew that when school was over, I wouldn't have a mother who would listen to my shameful tale and hug me tight to make me feel better. When I was sick, Dad would always do his best to take care of me, but I really missed my mom's tender loving care. She used to hold me in her arms and sing to me until my fever went away. Dads don't do that.
When I had calmed down and my vision started to clear, I saw my dad walking towards me from down the hallway. "Hey," he greeted me, putting his arm around my shoulder. "When did you get here?"
"A couple of minutes ago or something," I answered. "We walked as fast as we could as soon as Felicity got your call."
"That's good. Tell you what… Why don't you go over to the waiting room down that hallway to the left while I go talk to Felicity. I'll just go check on them to see what the doctor says, and then I'll join you there," Dad instructed. I obeyed without question.
I sat in the waiting room with six or seven other people whose faces betrayed one or a combination of these emotions: concern, worry, fear, sadness, and grief. I understood exactly how each of them felt. I'd been there. And I hadn't understood entirely what was happening then because I was just five years old. All I knew was that losing my mom in this same hospital that very day felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. And then there was nothing there. Just emptiness. "Mom's gone, Stephen," I remembered my dad saying to me. I recalled the two of us hugging real tight. "I'm gonna miss Mom so much, Dad," I mumbled in between sobs.
Sitting in that room, without anyone to talk to, I thought of talking to my mom – to her memory, at least. "I miss you, Mom. A lot. I hope Emily makes it through okay. I don't want to see another person die. I just couldn't take it. All these people here… they're hurting. I thought I didn't hurt anymore, but I still do. I wish you were here."
After five or ten minutes, Dad and Felicity joined me in the waiting room. It was a good thing I had stopped crying by the time they sat down, taking the two vacant seats in front of me.
As soon as she had taken a seat, Felicity spoke. "I can't thank you enough for what you did for Emily," she said to my dad. "Dr. Fischer said another five or ten minutes longer and she might not have made it. You saved her life."
Dad just looked at her. On his face was a different kind of smile. It was not a smile of amusement or fondness. It was a caring, compassionate smile. And as she turned to face him, her face glowed. The terror that had previously taken over her face was replaced by an expression of peace. She didn't need him to say anything. It's like she knew that my dad had accepted her words of gratitude. And then, at that very moment when her eyes locked onto his, I saw it happen.
Dad lifted his right hand from where it had rested on his knee and reached for Felicity's left hand. Almost instinctively, she leaned her left shoulder on his arm and rested her head on his right shoulder. These gestures of a growing bond were done in complete silence, and it was like time stood still. After such a close call, they had found comfort in each other. I smiled. I had found comfort in my sadness, too, just by watching them together.
As Felicity finally straightened herself from leaning on my dad, she asked, "Where did you learn to run so fast?"
"Track team. In high school, and then in college. I wasn't the most intelligent student in business school, but the athletics program took me in and I stayed until the senior year. Didn't think it would save a life today," he explained.
"Well, I'm so glad it did!" she remarked.
Earlier at the park, when my dad realized that Emily's life was at stake, he had made a difficult yet wise choice. He knew it would take too much time to bring her to the car that was parked at the far south side of the park, drive around one block because of the one-way street, and pass three possibly red lights during Starling's rush hour. We would not have made it in time. So he decided to run, knowing that Starling General was only two blocks north from where we were. (I remember him teaching me basic geometry: "The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.") So with Emily in his arms, he sprinted to the E.R. in less than seven minutes.
"That was really a close call," Dad said.
"Yeah. Dr. Fischer said her air passage was so swollen from the allergic reaction. I still find it strange though. I can't think of anything that might have caused it. I'm very careful not to give her anything she's allergic to," Felicity explained.
"What is she allergic to?" Dad asked.
"Oh, the usual things that kids with asthma are allergic to. You know… pollen, dust, certain preservatives, chocolates, nuts…"
My jaw dropped as I gasped, and my eyes widened so much I thought my eyeballs would pop out. "Uh-oh…" I spoke softly, fearfully.
"What's wrong, son?" Dad asked.
I started to shake in fear. "I… I'm… I'm so sorry!" I jumped off my seat and ran out of the waiting room. I couldn't believe it! Emily almost died because of what I did. She's on that hospital bed, unconscious, because of me. I felt so guilty I wished I had been the one who had almost died.
I ran past the hallway into the hospital lobby. I stopped near the hospital's main entrance where I spotted a narrow stairway. That was a perfect hiding place. I went up the landing between the first and second floors and sat on a step, burying my face in between two forearms that I placed on my lap. This time, I couldn't cry. The tears wouldn't come, even though I felt terrible and terrified deep inside. My chest wanted to burst in anger and frustration. I shut my eyes tight and yelled to myself, "I hate you!"
A couple of minutes later, I sensed someone sit beside me. "Dad, I know what you're thinking," I started to say. But when I opened my eyes and turned to face my unwelcomed companion, I was surprised to see Felicity. There she was, in her calm and collected manner, smiling at me with love in her eyes. She put one arm around me and just sat there, rubbing her tender hand on my shoulder. I couldn't look at her. I hung my head and looked down at my feet in shame.
And then she spoke, "Hey, Stephen. Please don't think you're the one to blame for what happened to Emily. You didn't know. It's not your fault."
"Yes, it is. I gave her chocolate… with lots of nuts in it!"
"Yes, you did. But you didn't know it was bad for her." She paused for a while. "Listen." She tried her best to catch my gaze, and when she finally did, she spoke the kindest words that broke through the walls of guilt and shame I was starting to build around my heart. "No one blames you for what happened. Your dad doesn't blame you. I don't blame you, and I don't hate you. In fact, I appreciate you sharing your chocolate bar with Emily and playing with her in the sandbox. If there was anyone to blame for what happened, it was me. I was the adult responsible for her."
"You're not mad at me?" I asked in amazement.
"Not a teeny tiny bit," she answered with a beautiful smile on her face.
"That's good to know," I said. I don't know what came over me, but I found myself wrapping my arms around Felicity's waist. I buried my head on her chest and cried. She put her arms around me, too. It was a wonderful feeling, which somehow felt like being in my own mother's embrace. I didn't want to let go. Not just yet.
"Hey, you two." I heard my dad's voice. "Emily's awake."
Felicity and I let go of our embrace. She pulled a white laced handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped away my tears. "Come on," she said, stroking my hair, "let's go see how Emily's doing." We stood up and walked back to the E.R. with my dad.
I opened my eyes and saw my mom standing near me on my right side, holding my hand. "Mommy," I whispered.
"Hey, sweetie," Mom said. "How're you feeling?"
"Okay," I answered, and then I asked, "Where's Stephen?"
Oliver answered, "He's right here." I looked to my left side and saw Oliver smiling down at me. But Stephen wasn't so happy. His eyes were so red. I could tell he'd just been crying, but I didn't know why. All I could think of was the last thing I remembered: the sandbox.
"Stephen, you think we can play in the sandbox again sometime?" I asked him.
Stephen's face broke out with a grin. "Well, sure," he replied, "as soon as you get better. And next time, no more Snickers for you." We all chuckled.
The doctor approached us and asked to speak with my mother. I heard him tell her that I needed to stay in the hospital at least overnight for observation. The medicines they gave me were just kicking in, so I still needed to rest under close watch. My mom nodded, and as the doctor left, a nurse gave her some papers to sign so that I could be transferred to a private room. She filled out the first form, but when she read the second one, I heard her say to the nurse, "Excuse me, but I'm afraid I have a bit of a problem here. It says here I have to have health insurance?"
"Yes. Is that a problem?" the nurse asked.
My mom bit her lower lip and sighed. She had this troubled look in her eyes. She couldn't answer.
"That's all right," Oliver stepped in. "I'll take care of it." He took the form from my mom's hand, signed it, and gave it to the nurse. "So, that's settled. When can we move the girl to her room?"
The nurse said it would take about thirty minutes to an hour before they could transfer me to my room. As soon as the nurse left, I heard my mom say to Oliver, "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did. I wanted to," he said. Mom couldn't look at him. She was way too embarrassed.
So I said, "Thank you, Mr. Oliver." And then I gave him the best smile I could manage under the circumstances. Mom's embarrassment melted away.
"You're welcome, Emily. I'm just so glad you're feeling much better now," said Oliver.
Mom walked away from him towards me, and as she did, she looked back at Oliver, her blonde ponytailed hair swaying softly, and said, "So, first you give me a job. Now you pay my hospital bill. By now, Mr. Queen, I have become so indebted to you that I-"
"Is that a problem?" he interrupted. "Coz the way I see it, I'm the one who owes you and this pretty little angel. It was my ball that hit her head, and it was the chocolate bar that I bought that brought her to the E.R. These aren't favors, Felicity. I just had to…"
His words were cut short by the nurse who returned and announced, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer than an hour. Housekeeping is still tidying up the room that another patient has just vacated. You might want to grab some dinner in the meantime. Give the little girl some time to rest and sleep. We can't have too much people in here anyway."
My visitors agreed. And after Mom planted a kiss on my cheek and said, "See you later, Ems," they were led by the nurse out of the E.R. to the direction of the cafeteria.
As soon as we got to the cafeteria, Dad found us a nice, quiet spot near a corner. He asked Felicity and me what we wanted for dinner and then left to get them for us. He came back a few minutes later.
As he placed the food trays on the table and sat down, Felicity spoke. "Oliver, thank you. Really. I'm grateful for everything, and I'm sorry for being so proud to admit I needed help."
"It's okay," Dad said. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Let's just eat. After all the excitement, I'm sure both your stomachs are growling just as hard as mine is."
During our meal, Dad struck up a conversation with Felicity. "So, has Emily always had this allergy and asthma problem?"
"Oh yeah," Felicity replied. "I've gotten used to it, but today's attack was among the worst ones, if not the worst. She was barely a year old when her symptoms began. We were in and out of hospitals in Vegas. I practically became a mainstay at the E.R. Doctors diagnosed her asthma; it was one of those difficult cases, and was often triggered by her allergic reactions. For months, the pediatric specialist there couldn't figure out how to control her asthma and allergies, so she referred us to an allergologist and a pediatric pulmonologist here in Starling. That's the reason why I decided to move away from my family and come live here a year and a half ago."
"Sounds like you've had your hands full," my dad remarked.
"Mm-hmm," she replied. "It can be quite stressful. Some days when she gets a really bad attack, I can't do any work coz I have to monitor her 'round the clock. This is why I can't leave her in someone else's care. There's just no one else I could depend on here. Somewhere in between child care, laundry, groceries, kitchen duty, housekeeping, and more errands than you could name, I manage to take on just enough IT projects to keep us afloat. Medical bills alone drive me crazy! That's why I really appreciate you giving me a better-paying job that doesn't take me away from Emily."
"Whew!" my dad interjected. "Sounds like you desperately need a break! I can't imagine myself doing all that alone. I mean, we have servants at home and I have assistants at QC to do all the dirty work for me," Dad remarked, with humble admiration. "What do you say we give you a day off after Emily comes home?"
"A day off?" Felicity asked, with excitement in her voice.
"Yeah, a day for yourself. You can get out of the apartment, do whatever you want, while Stephen and I watch over Emily. You deserve a break. Just one day."
"Are you sure?" she asked with some hesitation. "I mean, what if something happens while I'm gone?"
"It'll be okay. You just give us all the instructions we need. You can leave all the emergency numbers, and we'll call you immediately if there are any problems, which, I'm sure there won't be."
Felicity sighed, and then grinned as she looked at my dad eye to eye. "No one's ever done that for me before, you know."
"I can see that," Dad said, "and I want to be the first one who does." Felicity instantly blushed. The gaze she had set on my dad's eyes suddenly fell, and she was now staring at the fork on her plate.
I coughed up a piece of fruit that had gotten caught in my throat as soon as I heard Dad's line. "Great going, Dad," I said to myself, but all I said out loud was, "Excuse me." I could feel the electricity in the air.
"So…?" My dad gave his offer another try, not minding my clumsiness. In no time, Felicity was nodding in agreement, a smile forming on the corners of her lips. "Well then, I guess that settles it," he declared.
We finished our meals and were soon ready to leave the cafeteria and go back to see Emily in the E.R. Before we stood up, Felicity reached for my dad's arm and said, "Oliver, thank you for being a friend."
A friend. I didn't know what to make of that exactly. Was that good news or bad news? "Friend" could mean she liked him back, right? It meant that there was now a relationship there somehow, and it could develop into something more. But, it could also mean that she only saw him as that – a friend – and nothing more. Was she putting boundaries, dropping my dad a hint that she wasn't ready for something more?
I looked at my dad and searched his facial expression for any clue as to what he understood by her statement. Ironically, I didn't find the clues I was expecting to find on his face. What I saw was sheer delight. Delight that her blue eyes were fixed on him once again. Delight that her hand had touched him no matter how briefly. Goodness! I don't even think he heard what she just said about him being a friend. "Oh well," I thought to myself, "we'll just have to wait and see."