Chase and I sit in the hospital waiting room. It feels like we've been sitting here for hours, but it's really only been about twenty minutes. A doctor comes out. "Myka Patterson?"
"Yes?" I jump out of my chair. Chase stands up slowly.
"Well, first of all, your father is going to be okay." At those words, I relax a little. He continues, "His tibia is shattered, which is a serious problem. The gash was a result of the impact and not of the break, thankfully. He's in surgery now. It's going to take a plate and a couple of screws to set the bone pieces. His recovery time will probably be several months. That's really all that we know right now."
I thank him and return to sitting where I was before. The spots on my vision finally go away. Chase sits back down next to me and puts an arm around my shoulders. I lean my head against him. "I'm sorry this ruined your day."
He turns to look at me. "Really, it's fine. Are you okay?"
I nod. "I think I am now. I just don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there."
He smiles, "It was really no problem."
My phone rings. "It's Ryan," I absentmindedly say out loud. Chase looks quizzically at me. "My boyfriend." Chase raises his eyebrows. I hold up a finger and answer the phone.
"Hey gorgeous," Ryan greets me.
"Um, hey, Ryan. What's up?" I say nervously, glancing at Chase.
"Not much. Missing you. You know, the usual."
"Well, um, it's really not a good time right now…"
"Not a good time? It's always a good time for me, babe." His persistence, one of my favorite things about him, was starting to get irritating.
"Ryan, no. I'm at the hospital. My Dad's in surgery."
"Oh my G—" Click.
Of course the second something that matters comes up, he hangs up on me. Such a Ryan thing to do.
"Is everything okay?" Chase leans toward me.
"Oh, just Ryan being a douchebag. The usual."
He furrows his brow. "Then why are you with him?"
I sigh. "He's a sweetheart, really. He just isn't always helpful."
"But you stay with him anyway." It isn't a question, but a statement.
"I mean, yeah. I love him."
"Do you?"
I stare at him for a moment before leaning back in my chair. I try to fall asleep, just so that I can stop thinking about what he said, but I can't, so I just stare at the ceiling. I begin to count the dots on the ceiling tiles. A moment later, I'm waking up to Chase gently shaking my shoulder and calling my name.
"Myka, wake up, it's time to go home."
"No!" I sleepily fight back, pushing him away and curling up tighter on my chair.
"Myka, come on," he presses.
"I wanna see Dad."
"Myka, he's sleeping. He's still under the anesthetic."
"I wanna see him!"
"Fine." Chase stands up and pulls me up out of my chair. I stumble a little bit, still trying to wake up.
"How long was I asleep?" I wonder aloud.
"An hour or so. The doctor just came out to say that your Dad was out of surgery and resting in his room. He'll be able to come home probably tomorrow or the next day, he said." Chase leads me down the hallway into a room.
Dad lays in a hospital bed, his leg wrapped in an enormous green cast up to just above his knee, elevated three or four inches above the bed with pillows. He's fast asleep. Satisfied that Dad is okay, resting safely in the hospital, I agree to let Chase take me home.
By the time we get back to the apartments, it's getting dark outside and I'm starting to fall asleep again. Chase wakes me up again and walks me up to my room.
"You're sure you're okay?" He asks for about the thousandth time.
"Chase, I'm not really sure of anything, but I think I'll be fine," I assure him.
He looks at me for a long time before saying, "Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow then."
I nod, "See you tomorrow."
He goes back to his apartment as I head up to my room and fall asleep, fully clothed, in the middle of my bed.