She stood on shaky legs, finally taking a breath as the surgeon stifled a yawn and said,
"Boaz is in recovery."
Automatically, as she exhaled her relief, she corrected, "Priestly."
The surgeon blinked but rolled with it. "Priestly suffered some sort of grievous impact to his left side ribs which caused a bone splinter to lodge in his spleen. Fortunately, the splinter actually limited his blood loss to more of a moderate bleed than a catastrophic bleed. Unfortunately, the location and position was such that a simple extraction of the splinter wasn't possible. We had to remove most of his spleen. Because the spleen is a large part of the immune system, Priestly will be at increased risk of devastating infection, at least for the next couple of years until the remaining spleen, his liver and lymph nodes are able to ramp up to help compensate for the lost splenic function. After that he'll continue to remain at increased risk for the rest of his life, but to a lesser degree. Over time, his overall risk won't be all that much higher than the general population. We've got him on a course of antibiotics now, which is routine after partial or total splenectomy. He'll be strongly advised to get immunized against the flu, pneumonia, and meningitis. Infection is the greatest risk he faces right now, other than a spontaneous bleed at the repaired partial spleen."
Jude nodded, trying to digest the prognosis. "Is he awake?"
"Not yet," the surgeon replied. "He'll probably be out for another half hour or so."
"Is there anything else we should know?" Trucker asked, having risen to put a consoling arm around her.
"He's got a hairline fracture at his right elbow which will require only a sling. Several knuckles of the same hand, however, were badly bruised and deeply lacerated requiring sutures, and his rotator cuff on the same side was torn. He'll need some physical therapy to ensure he regains optimal range of motion. Beyond that, a lot of bumps, bruises, sprains and strains." The surgeon's grin was a humorless one. "Despite how it may sound, considering the nature of his accident, Priestly was very lucky."
Jude nodded again, trying to reconcile the word "lucky" with the laundry list of injuries the surgeon had just reported. "When can I see him?" she choked out.
"When he comes around, I can allow you in one at a time for a short while. You'll have to scrub up, cover up, and wear a mask and gloves. The risk of infection is too great otherwise. Optimally, we need a few days to get those vaccines started and for the antibiotics to gain a foothold before we'll be able to allow any kind of unrestricted visitation."
Jude took a shaky breath and nodded again. "Thank you," she croaked, staring after the surgeon for a long few seconds after he promised to send a nurse for her when Priestly could see his first visitor.
"C'mon, Angel," Trucker said quietly. "Let's take another walk."
She supposed he could tell she was about to lose it, though she wasn't sure why. As prognoses went, she knew the surgeon was right. Given that he'd been thrown from a moving vehicle, things could have been much worse. Still, her mind couldn't help racing through the facts. Increased risk of infection. He worked with the public. No matter how clean he kept the grill, he was around dozens of people with probably billions of germs six days a week. No matter how careful, he'd be a walking sponge just waiting to soak up something that might sweep in and kill him.
She voiced these thoughts to Trucker as they made another few circles around the nurses' station, past the rooms and the lab and the mini cafeteria. He just stopped her in the corridor and put his hands on her shoulders.
"It's not ideal," he agreed, "but we've still got him."
She closed her eyes. "I know," she agreed, tamping down the next wave of tears that threatened. "But the one thing this mess has taught me is I can't lose him, Trucker. I can't. Mikey and Lily…" she shook her head. "We just can't."
"Angel," Trucker said softly, tucking her against him helplessly. When all else failed and there was nothing to say that could refute what simply was, Trucker just drew you in and held on.
They returned to the waiting area to find Tish had arrived and was griping to Jen and Jeff about Rick. Jude had to fight not to roll her eyes. She generally agreed with Priestly that Tish marrying the guy had been a bad decision. They were like oil and water. Everybody knew they didn't mix, but because they could coincide no one quite knew how to suggest they might be better off apart.
"He didn't want to drop Mikey at Liza's," Tish was saying exasperatedly. "Never mind that I might want him here with me. I mean, I think he genuinely thought he was doing me a favor keeping Mikey, but sometimes the man is just clueless."
Beside her, Jen nodded at her and squeezed her hand. "Well," Jen said diplomatically, "I'm glad you're here."
To Jude's surprise, when Tish caught sight of her, she stood up and hugged her, her face drawn with tension. Truthfully, it made Jude a little ashamed of her less than charitable thoughts about Tish earlier that day. Tish could be a pain, always demanding things go her way and getting snarky if they didn't, but–
Jude realized it then with a clarity that made her feel ashamed. The very thing she disliked about Tish was something she did, herself. Why had that never occurred to her before?
Jude nodded and squeezed Tish's shoulders before letting her go. "Thanks for coming," she said. "I'm sorry we ruined your camping."
Tish shrugged. "I'm not. I hate camping. Rick loves it, and it's good that he and Mikey have that in common, but my idea of camping is a cabin in the woods, complete with running water and electricity."
Jude nodded. She found herself drawn into a conversation about Mikey and Rick. Tish definitely wanted the two of them to bond, but Mikey still seemed largely detached, though it had been over three years since Rick had entered their lives. Now five years old, Mikey seemed just as indifferent to Rick as he'd been the first time Tish brought him home. The first time Rick and Tish took Mikey camping, it seemed like Mikey and Rick started to get along better. Rick had pestered Tish to go camping several times since then, probably hoping to recapture those golden moments of harmony.
And so she and Tish chatted, wandering through camping and things with Rick, but ending with a recap of the prognosis, which Tish had heard from Jen and Jeff but seemed to want to verify, as though Jude might give her a different picture. When Jude finished, Tish was solemn.
"Wow," she said, shaking her head.
All of them continued talking amongst themselves. Jude asked Lisa and David how Missy was doing. Lisa looked up at her with a weary smile and eyes that went wet with unshed tears again.
"She's just fine, thanks to your husband. If there's anything we can do, Jude…" Lisa trailed off as David nodded.
Jude forced a smile and let the petite woman squeeze her hand. "Is she awake?" Jude redirected the conversation. "Has she said anything about what happened?"
Lisa shook her head. "The doctors have her sedated to let her rest."
Jude nodded. "That's the best thing, I'm sure."
Lisa nodded and then sighed. "Waiting until they release her is just going to kill me. The nurses keep telling us to go home and rest, you know, that Missy is just fine and she'll be sleeping, anyway, until tomorrow." Now a few tears escaped. "But I just can't. I can't just walk out of this place and leave her here all alone, not after–″
Jude squeezed Lisa's hand now, even as David protested softly, "Lees…you can't do that to yourself…"
"She's in good hands," Jude said. "This ward is probably more secure than a maximum security prison," she joked feebly.
Lisa gave her a watery smile and then extracted her hand so that she could rub her eyes. "Oh, I'll just feel like the worst mother in the world if I leave. I know they're right. I mean, she was awake when we first got here, but after that they gave her the sedative and she's been out ever since. But I just–"
Zo, who'd arrived not long after Jen and Jeff, said gently, "You're not to blame, Lisa. Nor you, David. Go home. Rest. You should be fresh tomorrow for Missy's sake. She'll need you centered and calm."
After a few more moments, David was able to convince Lisa to go home and come back bright and early to wait for Missy's discharge. A round of hugs and an exchange of phone numbers later, the exhausted couple left. Jude looked at Zo with her gentle, stoic face, and was not surprised when Zo reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear and said,
"You should do the same, once they've allowed you to see him. Let Trucker and I take you home with us tonight, bring you back tomorrow."
Jude took a deep breath and nodded. "After we see him," she agreed.
And they waited some more.
*%*
The scariest moment of his life had come last summer when Mikey was four and Lily was just barely starting to toddle around on wobbly legs, usually only if she was holding on to something like the edge of a table. They'd gone to the beach one afternoon, and he'd foolishly assured Jude he could look after the kids while she went to the bathroom. She'd started to take Lily with her, but he shook his head and told her he could handle things for a couple minutes. He'd rolled his eyes as she jogged away at a pretty quick pace, clearly feeling she had to hurry.
"Mommy doesn't trust me, Lily Bee," he joked, his grin widening as Lily just held up the little plastic shovel she'd been banging on the hardened sand and said, "Ga!". His heart melted as usual at those round green eyes. Glancing up, he saw Mikey crouched at the water's edge, scooping more wet sand for their castle, the waves not even close enough to touch his ankles. Turning back to Lily, he gave her a suspicious look and leaned closer, breathing deeply. "Whewwwww! Lily Bee, you're stinky!"
She looked up at him, the shovel now at her mouth, and grinned sloppily around it. Plucking the shovel out of her chubby fist, he scooped her up and said, "C'mon, little Miss, you need a diaper change in a big way."
He jiggled her as she made a token, whiny protest at the loss of her toy. Expertly, he had her on their towel and de-pantsed in just a couple of seconds. Literally less than two minutes later, he scooped her up again, powder fresh and content, and scanned the shore's edge for Mikey. "Mikey! Mike?!" he called, trying not to remember when his voice had sounded just that panicked before. "Mikey!?"
A woman who'd chatted with Jude most of the afternoon from the blanket next to theirs called out to him, "Can I watch the baby for you while you look for Mikey?"
He swallowed hard, considering her offer for only a few seconds. "Thanks," he said, kissing Lily's temple before handing her over.
"I'm sure he's right around here," the woman was saying, even as he barreled down to the water's edge where Mikey's sand pail and shovel were but where Mikey wasn't.
"Mikey?!"
And then he saw the little figure bobbing in the water, waving gleefully right up until the breaker covered his unsuspecting head. It was only a few seconds, but Priestly thought his heart would beat right out of his chest as he dashed into the water as fast as his legs would carry him, lunging mightily into the ocean once running was no longer effective. What had been far out for Mikey wasn't so far out for Priestly, but the waves were deceptively strong. Because he was so panicked, his ability to hold his breath was next to nothing. When he dove under in search of his son, straining hard against the current, it didn't take long to feel the desperate burning in his lungs. Added to that, he was shaking from sheer terror, so hard that his teeth clacked loudly as he burst past the surface with Mikey in his arms, unable to stop the convulsive tremors no matter how hard he tried. Instead of rebuking Mikey harshly, he could only stutter,
"B-b-b-uddy, y-y-you kn-know the r-rules! D-don't g-go in the w-water without M-mom or D-Dad!"
Everything was a blur that afternoon, but sometimes he had nightmares about it. In the dreams, he could remember that moment just before breaking the surface…the hazy bright light of the surface just out of reach of his aching lungs, the fierce pain that gripped his chest, and the crazy, involuntary spasms that were the result of way too much adrenaline.
For a brief, confused moment, Priestly thought he was back there as he jerked to the surface and opened his eyes and drew in a deep breath. But as he looked around, things came flooding back, starting with the desperate, wild eyes of a little girl.
With the exception of her first question, "Mister, can you help me?" her words had been nearly whispered. He remembered now, pausing by his car, about to duck inside, wondering if he was even the person the little voice was talking to, seeing as how there was no one looking at him. But then he'd ducked his head and he'd seen her, slight and pale and blonde and terrified, looking like she wanted to keep sinking into the seat of the pickup until she vanished.
Priestly swallowed and winced, jerking again. Cold. Jesus Christ, he was cold. Hospital. He could tell that much. If the pale walls and the curtain tracks hadn't given it away, the incessant beeping and the bustling just out of sight would have. He turned his head slightly, unable to go beyond a fraction of an inch. He felt like cement.
Seeing the cable ties marching all up and down her arms, the seatbelt looped into and around themeffectively trapping her, he'd done his best not to let the horror show in his voice. "What's your name, honey?" he'd asked just before calling to Jude to get the box cutter. Part of him couldn't believe what he was seeing, what it could only mean.
"Missy…" she'd replied so softly it might have been a breeze.
He blinked at a nurse, or what he assumed was a nurse. "M-Missy?" he asked.
Kind eyes looked down at him for a moment before traveling to the source of the beeping. "She's just fine, sweetheart," the voice, muffled by a surgical mask, assured. "Are you cold?"
"Mmmm," he agreed, closing his eyes in relief. Opening them again, he asked, "J-Jude?"
The kind eyes met him again even as gloved hands gently eased another blanket over him. Though it felt like it was fresh from the dryer, he still jerked. It sent ripples of pain through him. It felt like he had a stitch in his side…a sharp, sharp ache like you got if you ran too fast on a hot day. "She'll be very glad to see you."
He closed his eyes again and tried not to remember the guy's soulless eyes when they met his in the rearview mirror. He tried to forget the way, his eyes on Priestly's, the guy had looked satisfied as he'd grabbed Missy's throat.
Priestly tried to lift his arm, wondering about the elbow he'd tried to break the cab window with. The horrible sweeping pain as he'd merely cracked the glass a little. The shock that coursed through his entire body as he'd followed the elbow up with his right fist, succeeding where the elbow hadn't. Too heavy. He was just…heavy. Heavy and cold and still jerking, which made little ripples of pain bloom out from seemingly everywhere.
"Priestly?"Jude's voice, oddly muffled, came from beside him.
He opened his eyes. "H-hey," he hiccupped weakly, his heart twisting as he saw those eyes of hers well up. He wished he could reach up, stroke her face. Ease some of the god-awful emotions he watched flash through them. She, too, wore a mask. Before he could ask, Jude's worried, muffled voice asked,
"Why is he shaking like that? Is he okay?"
The kind eyes returned, watched him for a moment, then flitted away to watch the source of the incessant beeping. "It's probably a reaction to the anesthesia. I've got something that will help. I'm just going to put it in his IV…."
He blinked at Jude as he all but felt whatever it was begin to trace its way through him. He felt his twitching muscles smooth out, puddling into warmth. He sank into it, floated there, just watching Jude watch him, her gloved hand reaching out to stroke his cheek.
The last thing he heard was one of her whispers.
You have no idea how much I love you.