Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize…
A/N: Thank you for the reviews!! This is the most reviews I have gotten (total) for a story on Fanfiction so far, so thank you all so much!
For all of you who attempted to answer (I know it was a harder one this time!), the correct answer to the trivia question is Paul McCartney. And now, onto Chapter 27...enjoy!
The carload of rowdy teenagers slammed into the driver's side of Mr. Harrison's car right in the middle of the intersection, nearly missing a third vehicle in another lane. The impact was horrendous; a mix of overwhelming sounds and sights as multiple cars screeched across the pavement to avoid the collision. All Lizzy could hear--she had her eyes closed when she saw the car coming toward them and faintly remembered screaming at Paul at the top of her lungs to watch out--was the ear-piercing shriek of metal slamming into metal and the shattering of glass.
She was thrown roughly into the passenger side door, and instinctively threw her arm out to break her collision with the window. That was only met with a sickening crack and a sharp pain shooting from her wrist up her arm. Unfortunately, her head hit the glass, cracking it instantly, and she fell unconscious, slumped against the door. She blacked out for a few moments, and when she came to, the terrible sounds had ceased and an eerie silence filled the car.
Lizzy's head throbbed from hitting the window, and she could feel a warm liquid trickling down her face; the crimson substance obscuring her vision slightly. Her heart was beating so loudly that she could hear the rhythmic pulse in her ears--a good sign telling her she had survived the accident. She glanced around, seeing a mess of mangled metal and shattered glass everywhere. Some bystanders who had witnessed the whole thing were looking on in horror.
Fearfully, Lizzy shifted her position to see how much Paul had been effected, knowing that he had taken the brunt of the impact. Her fears were met once she saw her boyfriend hunched over the steering wheel. The driver's side door was also dented inward from the car that had hit them. Paul's body was motionless, arms dangling limply at his sides. Lizzy winced, tears forming in her eyes. Carefully, she unbuckled her seatbelt and moved closer to Paul, avoiding any shards of glass that had fallen onto the seats. She held her right arm close to her body, knowing that it was most likely broken.
"Paul." she choked out, voice trembling. She knew he wouldn't answer, but she wanted to try. She wanted him to open his eyes and tell her everything was going to be okay, like he always did. "Paul?" Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and she let out a small sob.
Reaching out with her good hand, she took one of Paul's blood-streaked hands and held it in her hers. She pressed her thumb against his wrist, checking for a pulse.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she found one. A strong one, thankfully.
Lizzy scooted back to her seat, and stared hopelessly out the window at the people crowding around the scene. "Help!" she called, "Please, somebody, help!"
She heard someone yell back to her that they had called 911, and heard the sound of sirens in the distance before her head started spinning and she had to collapse back into her seat. She threw a fleeting look at Paul, holding onto a shred of hope that both of them would be all right.
"I always loved that picture." Maggie Harrison laughed, pointing to a photograph of Lizzy in one of the albums that was spread out over the coffee table in the living room. Maggie, Charlie, Lucy and Jude were sitting around leafing through old photo albums, the Harrisons sharing stories of Lizzy's childhood. Paul's mother had left after taking pictures of her son and Lizzy, and Mr. Harrison had offered to take Paul home once they returned to the house.
In the picture Maggie was referring to, Lizzy was about seven years old, and she was at the beach, dressed in a light green one piece bathing suit and a white fisherman's style hat. She was sprawled across the wet sand--her dark hair fanned out beneath her and her arms out at her sides--right where the ocean met the shore, and a small wave was rushing in to soak her completely. There was a huge grin on her face.
"She'll probably miss the beach the most." Charlie Harrison murmured, laughing mostly to himself.
Lucy nodded understandingly, knowing that the beach would probably be the second most-missed thing for her daughter. The first would be Paul.
"There's a nice little pier right outside the city," Lucy told them. "It's kind of a special place for us. We took Lizzy there when she came during spring break, and she said it was a good substitute for the beach."
"And I'm sure she'll try to visit at least once over the summer before her classes start." Jude reassured the Harrisons, knowing that they were sad to be letting Lizzy go. It was understandable--she had been their daughter, too. If Lizzy had the time, Jude knew she would make a point to come back to Florida during the summer. The beach, Jude was well aware of, wasn't the only thing Lizzy would be upset to leave behind.
Mrs. Harrison shared a thoughtful look with her husband, nodding. A silence passed over the adults; Maggie took that time to stand and gather up some of the empty glasses scattered on a few of the tables.
"Would anyone like anything while I'm up?" she asked, moving slowly over toward the kitchen. When the three adults gave various responses declining the offer, Maggie continued on to the kitchen, placing the glasses in the sink. She had the intention of washing them out, but she didn't get very far because the phone started ringing. Maggie yelled to the others that she would answer it, being the nearest person to the phone.
"Hello?" she asked, holding the phone in one hand and a damp dishrag in the other.
The formal-sounding, feminine voice caught her off-guard. "Mrs. Harrison, I presume?"
"Yes," Maggie Harrison replied reluctantly, "Who is this?"
"This is Cynthia at Palm Beach Hospital. Elizabeth Feeny said I would be able to get a hold of her parents at this number. You were Elizabeth's adoptive mother, correct?"
"Yes," Mrs. Harrison answered, her voice shaking. "What's going on? Is Lizzy all right?" The only word that stuck out in Maggie's mind was hospital, and she'd immediately panicked upon hearing it.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," The woman, most likely the hospital secretary, said, "Elizabeth was involved in a car accident and she is currently receiving treatment here. Is there any way to notify Mr. and Mrs. Feeny?"
"Of…of course. They're staying at our house. I…I'll tell them," Maggie declared. "H-How bad is it?" Her voice was quiet now, dreading the answer to that question.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harrison, but the doctor didn't give me any details on her condition."
Maggie's heart sank. "O-Okay…we'll be over as soon as possible." She hung up the phone, shaking her head in disbelief, tears beginning to make trails down her cheeks. She did not look forward to going back into that living room and telling Lucy and Jude the news. How had such a happy occasion suddenly turn into a complete nightmare? Everything was going so well before--Lizzy was going to graduate in a few weeks, and move to New York to be with her family, and go to college where she wanted to.
Now, Mrs. Harrison wondered what would happen. How bad the damages were…how exactly it would effect Lizzy's future. She prayed that things weren't too bad…
Maggie sauntered into the living room, stopping in the doorway. Charlie, Lucy, and Jude turned to look over at her. The three of them noticed the worried and shocked expression on her face, and the tears in her eyes. Charlie was the first one to question it, his voice carrying a tone of concern.
"Who called?"
Maggie bit her lip, more tears trickling down her face. She couldn't bring herself to tell them what had happened.
"What's wrong, Maggie?" Lucy asked, her own heart rate picking up speed at Mrs. Harrison's own nervousness. A sense of deep foreboding washed over her. "Who was it?"
"Someone at the hospital," Maggie responded. "There…There's been an accident."
Lucy's and Jude's faces instantly paled.
A Half Hour Earlier…
There was complete and utter chaos.
Lizzy kept fading in and out of consciousness during the time up until she was brought to the hospital, wanting to close her eyes to block out everything happening around her. It was an unpleasant scene. The shouting, the bright lights, the sirens. The firemen taking apart the driver's side of the car to get Paul out, and rushing him off to the hospital in a separate ambulance. The paramedics lifting her out of Mr. Harrison's mangled car and placing her on a gurney. Watching the other teenagers being rescued, both cars a huge mess; glass strewn all over the road, blood streaking the windows. People watching--fascinated, horrified, and disgusted--everything taking place.
She wanted all of it to go away…she wanted it to be a bad dream. But to her dismay, it wasn't.
She recalled feeling the paramedics poking and prodding her, asking her questions. She even remembered one of them--a young woman, who seemed to be in her mid-twenties--holding her hand, telling her she was going to be okay. She remembered crying uncontrollably…like she was doing at the present moment, as they wheeled her down the stark white halls toward the emergency room.
Lizzy was wide awake now. And she was in hysterics.
"Where's Paul?" she cried, barely recognizing her voice as her own. "I want to know where he is! Tell me what's going on!"
"Calm down, honey," one of the nurses told her, "You need to take it easy…just relax."
Lizzy opened her mouth to repeat her request, but the doctor that had rushed up to meet the gurney by the door spoke before she could. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked. His voice was calm, and somewhat comforting.
"Elizabeth Feeny," she replied. "Lizzy."
"Okay, Lizzy, I'm Dr. Lennon. We're going to take good care of you, all right?"
They stopped in the emergency room and went to work, ignoring Lizzy's distressed pleas to inform her on her boyfriend's condition. They continued to poke an prod--yet again--as Lizzy winced when they came across a cut or a bruise. Her head was throbbing and stinging at the same time, her arm ached, and it hurt terribly whenever she took a deep breath. They kept touching the spots that hurt and asking if they hurt, which Lizzy found particularly annoying because it was blatantly obvious from the expressions on her face that she was in pain.
The nurses had to cut her beautiful, yellow prom dress open in order to assess her wounds--saying something about Lizzy possibly having a few broken ribs--which did not make Lizzy a very happy person. Once they put a hospital gown on her, Dr. Lennon came to her bedside to tell her what was going on.
"Lizzy, we think you have a concussion and a couple broken ribs, and you broke your wrist as well. We're going to stitch up the cut on your forehead, then send you for some x-rays and put your wrist in a cast."
But Lizzy didn't care about what was wrong--she was obviously going to be okay. What she didn't know was if Paul had been that lucky.
"Did you see my boyfriend Paul? He was in the car with me--what happened to him? Is he all right?"
"Honey, relax." A nurse told her. How could she relax when she had no idea where Paul was and what was happening to him? Or if he was even alive? Lizzy wished they would stop calling her honey and sweetheart and just give her some straight answers.
"But--"
"We'll find out about your boyfriend and fill you in once we get you settled into a room." Dr. Lennon compromised.
Who knew how long that would take? Nevertheless, Lizzy chose to comply, and therefore kept her mouth shut through all of the x-rays and stitching and whatnot.
The four adults arrived at the hospital five minutes after receiving the call, which was half the time it normally took to get there. Charlie drove, because no one else had the ability to concentrate at the time. Lucy and Maggie were in tears, and Jude was visibly shaken, trying to comfort his wife. However, Charlie found himself wondering how he had even gotten them to the hospital; although he did not look upset on the outside, he was beating himself up on the inside.
He was trying to picture how things could've been different if he had driven them around tonight. Would it have changed anything? Would they be sitting in their living room laughing and discussing Lizzy and Paul's prom instead of standing in the hospital, crying?
Lucy charged up to the receptionist's desk, fresh tears still rolling down her cheeks and her face all red and splotchy. Jude stood behind her, one hand on her waist and one hand gently rubbing the small of her back in a comforting gesture. The receptionist--whose name was Cynthia, the woman Maggie spoke to over the phone--glanced up at the four adults, plastering on a sympathetic smile.
"Can I help you?"
Lucy fought every urge not to scream at the woman, yelling back some smartass remark and demanding to know where her daughter was and how she was doing.
"Our daughter, Elizabeth, was taken here awhile ago," The young blond stated. "She was in a car accident."
On the inside, Cynthia grimaced. Their daughter had been in the horrible accident involving two cars full of teenagers coming from their prom. She had seen the terrible train of gurneys carrying the injured teens, all dressed in their gowns and tuxedos. It was always a shame to see patients coming in from proms at this time of year.
"Last name Feeny, right?" Cynthia asked.
"Yeah." Jude and Lucy answered simultaneously.
"Okay. If you'll just have a seat over there," she motioned to the waiting room lined with plastic chairs, "I'll call Elizabeth's doctor in to speak to you."
Lucy nodded solemnly and walked across the hallway to the waiting room, Jude's arm around her shoulder. Lucy looked up to see Paul's mother already sitting there, her expression solemn. She was dabbing at her bloodshot eyes with a tissue as the two troubled couples sunk down next to her.
"Sally." She called, and the woman glanced up. She was relieved to see them there. She thought was going to have to go through this alone, as she had with everything else in her and Paul's life ever since her jerk of a husband walked out on them. Now, more than ever, she needed someone by her side. Sally knew that truly, she wasn't alone in this. Lucy, Jude, Maggie, and Charlie were just as frightened as she was.
"Oh, Maggie…Lucy…" she sobbed, finding sympathy in both of their own tear-filled eyes, "I can't believe…" Lucy put an arm around the woman's shoulder, and Maggie moved from her spot to sit on the other side of her.
"Did they tell you anything?" Maggie asked.
"The doctor said that Paul was taken up to s-surgery…to stop some internal bleeding," Sally wept. "They're supposed to g-give me some k-kind of update s-soon."
"Have you heard anything about Lizzy?" Lucy questioned.
Sally shook her head. "No," she said. "Sorry."
"Did they tell ya what…" Jude trailed off, still in quite a bit of shock. He couldn't bring himself to think about his daughter being involved all of this. "…Ya know, how the accident happened?"
Sally nodded gravely, and composed herself to give an explanation. "Lizzy and Paul's car was crossing an intersection and the car that hit them went through a red light. The doctor said that the kid driving hadn't been paying attention and didn't brake fast enough. They were coming from the same prom."
Jude shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Bloody kids, he thought bitterly, continuing to rub circles into Lucy's back in order to keep himself sane. Lucy stifled a sob and leaned back to rest against Jude's chest. The adults sat in an uneasy silence, drowning out the hectic, nerve-racking sounds of the hospital, consumed in their own thoughts.
Lizzy's doctor's voice cut through their reflections a few minutes later. "Mr. and Mrs. Feeny?"
Lucy's and Jude's heads snapped up. They threw a glance in the Harrisons' direction; Maggie and Charlie told them to go, seeing as how Lizzy was rightfully their daughter. The two of them stood, and holding hands, they approached the doctor.
"My name is Dr. Lennon," he told the anxious parents, shaking their hands, "I treated your daughter after she was rushed here from the accident."
"How is she?" Lucy asked, her grip on Jude's hand tightening.
"She's recovering fine." he declared, which caused Lucy and Jude to breathe a major sigh of relief.
"Thank God." Jude said quietly, squeezing his wife's hand.
"Lizzy has a concussion, and she broke her right wrist, and a couple of ribs. She had some stitches and we put her wrist in a cast. We're going to keep her here for a day or two, and she'll have to take it easy for a few weeks until her ribs heal."
"Can we see 'er?" Jude inquired.
"Of course." Dr. Lennon answered.
"Thank you so much." Lucy said. Dr. Lennon gave them Lizzy's room number before he left, then Lucy and Jude went back over to Maggie and Charlie, asking if they wanted to come with them to see Lizzy.
"You go on up," Charlie replied. "We'll give you some time before we go see her."
Walking hand-in-hand, Lucy and Jude started walking to Lizzy's room, unable to have peace of mind until they could see their little girl for themselves.
A/N: Such drama…lol. Okay, so I have sort of an easy question this time, but it requires you to look back at all the chapter titles. Which title is not a Beatles song, but a John Lennon song? Good luck…
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