Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Marissa’s injuries stayed at the forefront of my mind. I wasn’t Declan’s family. No one would call me if he were injured. Sean would pass on the news, but I wasn’t part of the Murphy clan either. Declan talked about how he’d never quite fit in with his big, boisterous family, but they’d claim him, no matter what. Unlike my own birth family. I was tired of always being on the outside looking in, wanting what I couldn’t have.
With Declan, for the first time, I’d had a glimpse of a happy ending for myself. We could be a little family, us and Oz. Maybe toss in a few more pets for good measure. The two of us simply fit together. But could I settle for remaining a secret?
I was still mulling over that question when I saw Doctor Munson coming down the corridor from the ER. He had his surgical cap still on, a mask around his neck, and heavy lines around his deep-set eyes.
“Doctor.” I stopped him, my pulse pounding. I almost didn’t want to ask, but I had to know. “How’s Darcy? The midwife motorcycle rider?”
“Jonas.” Munson managed a weary greeting. “She made it through. Not out of the woods yet, but we cleaned up the ruptured spleen, tracked down a few other bleeders. I was about to go talk to the family. Come with me?”
“Me?” I’d talked to plenty of families on my own and had delivered my share of good and bad news, but once we handed off a case, the surgeons or attendings usually handled family contact.
“You helped save her.” Munson nodded solemnly. Sharing credit was even rarer, and I nodded back before following him down the corridor. “Besides, you’re better with people, and I hear there’s a crowd for her.”
He was right. The waiting area was full of curly-haired folks with bright-blue eyes, many of whom looked to have been crying. An older woman sat in the center of the bank of chairs, women on either side of her, holding her hands. A few chairs down, a slightly younger Marissa clone was breastfeeding a tiny baby in a sling. A tall woman swayed in the corner, a toddler asleep in a back carrier. Two twenty-something young men dozed in chairs while another one watched something on his phone. This was family. This was love, right here in the open.
“Doctor?” The older woman’s face went ghostly white as she noticed Munson and me approaching. “Is she…?”
“There was a complete spleen rupture from blunt impact trauma and associated internal bleeding for us to contend with.” Munson hadn’t been joking about his people skills. He was stiff and overly formal and likely scaring this family further.
“She made it through surgery,” I interrupted to add before Marissa’s mother could pass out from worry. “She’s still critical, but Doctor Munson stopped the bleeding.”
“As best we could.” Munson’s mouth twisted. He was even worse at accepting praise than me. “The next twenty-four hours are going to be key.”
“She’s alive. You hear that, Mom?” One of the women holding the mother’s hands squeezed her.
“She’s a fighter,” another added, echoing Eric from earlier. “Thank you for giving her a chance.”
“She’s lucky to be surrounded by so much love.” I gestured at the whole room. “Keep the good energy coming for her, but make sure you all get food and sleep too.”
“When can I see her?” the mother asked.
“Mom. You just want to lecture her about the motorcycle.” The guy on his phone looked up long enough to gently joke. “Let Marissa rest.”
“She’s in recovery now. But once she’s transferred to ICU, we can see about some limited visitation.” Munson was still stiffer than a packing box, but his offer drew smiles from all around the room. He’d brought hope, and that was the important thing.
Walking back to finish my shift and clock out, I was flagged down by another supervisor, Dottie, one of my least favorite coworkers, who managed a lot of our scheduling.
“Jonas!” Dottie called out in a high trill. “Just the nurse practitioner I was hoping to see.”
“You need another shift covered?” I didn’t even try to hide my yawn. “I’m about to clock out, and I’ve already agreed—”
“Not today, luckily,” she chirped. “You go home and sleep. But we had a callout for tomorrow. You’ll cover, right?”
Tomorrow. It was long past midnight, which meant tomorrow was the day Declan returned. Sean had already said he’d do the airport run, so I could accept the shift, see Declan a little later, have the talk we most definitely needed.
But I was tired. So very, very tired. I covered for everyone else to the point I seldom took my own advice to rest. Self-care? I had no clue what that would even look like for me. I turned to stretch, buying a few seconds to think, and caught a glimpse of Marissa Darcy’s family. They were all gathered together around Marissa’s mother, heads bowed in some sort of prayer or moment of thanksgiving. Family.