“Yeah, well, Doc…”
“You could be paralyzed,” he cuts me off, his dark eyes boring into mine. “No more lifting heavy weights. I hope you’re listening to me, Mr. Connors. People with a problem like yours need to be extra careful. Yes, I am trying to scare you. But this is a serious matter.”
“Got it,” I mutter, shivering.
Brylee’s hand slips into mine, and some of the weight lifts off my chest. “He’ll be careful.”
“He’d better be.”
***
With that fun and light-hearted warning, we walk out of the doctor’s office. Brylee has her arm around me, although I’m walking more easily now, only slightly limping, the pain not quite that bad, considering I’m due for another dose of elephant tranquillizers.
Er, painkillers.
It feels good to be walking out of the hospital under my own power for a change, my girl at my side. The world is slowly righting itself, finding its path, things falling into place.
The nurse at the desk smiles at us as we pass by. “Here to visit your friend?”
We take a few more steps before we stop. Brylee glances up at me, and I open my mouth, but dunno what to say.
We turn to face the nurse. Ellen Horton, her name tag says, and it’s the same one who talked to us last time.
“Our friend,” I say. “And that would be…?”
She laughs, like I’m being funny. “Ryan Dawson.”
Right. “Visit him?” Brylee asks, while I try to formulate my next question.
“Yes. I know he’s not awake yet, but I was sure I’d see you around.” She smiles prettily.
Right.
Not awake.
What in the actual fuck?
“We haven’t visited him,” Brylee says, and her voice trembles. “Not yet.”
“Well, I know you’re not family,” she says, and glances over her shoulder before whispering conspiratorially. “But you’re good friends. And I know all three of you. He cares about you, I could tell. I could smuggle you in, if you like.”
I open my mouth again, to ask why Ryan’s here, why he isn’t awake, what the hell is going on.
“The surgery went well, from what I hear,” Nurse Ellen goes on blithely. “Of course the next twenty-four hours are critical, but everything looks good so far.”
My breath catches, and I can’t seem to be able to draw in any more air.
The surgery?
“We’d love to see him,” Brylee says, her voice normal now, although her face is pale. “Please. That’s really nice of you.”
“Oh, no problem. Hospital regulations are sometimes too strict.” She dimples at us, and steps out from behind the desk, calling another young woman to take her place. Then she turns to us. “This way.”
It’s not until we’re hurrying along long corridors and Nurse Ellen says brightly, “Here we are,” that I manage to take a full breath. “He has a private room,” she goes on. “Please put on these surgical masks before you go in and use the hand sanitizer.”
She hands the masks to us, and we take them automatically. She points at the sanitizer, and we nod.
“Nobody’s in with him right now,” she says. “Don’t stay very long. Five minutes is the most we let family stay inside for now. If anyone asks, you’re siblings. Yes?”