Page 4 of Stick Around
She paced back into the waiting room, monitoring the parking lot for headlights.Dr. Mackey is a superb doctor.Head injuries were so unpredictable, though, and Grace knew it. Sometimes a bloody gash would have no internal damage, while another patient could have a traumatic brain injury with no open wound at all. It was worrisome he’d lost consciousness.
Billy’s boots thumped on the tile floor as he returned. She turned to find him walking toward her with his flannel shirt balled up in his fist, wearing just the white cotton t-shirt that had been underneath. It stretched across his muscular chest and clung to his biceps in a way she couldn’t help but notice.
“Is there somewhere I can chuck this out?” He lifted his fist. “There’s no way it’s coming clean.”
“Sure.” Grace reached out to take it from him, and her fingers grazed his. She cleared her throat and jerked her head toward the waiting room chairs. “Go sit and wait for the girls. I’ll get this into the proper waste bin and go check on Mr. Avery.”
“Okay.” Billy peered out the glass door. “Lauren must be driving. If it was Madison, they’d be here by now.”
Grace dropped the shirt off and jogged to Mr. Avery’s room. As soon as she turned down the hall to his room, she heard rushed, raised voices. The tension rose in her chest as she crossed the doorway into his room.
“Grace,” Dr. Mackey called to her without taking his attention away from My. Avery. “Go call for transport. We need a helicopter to either Saskatoon or Winnipeg. Whichever can get him quicker.”
Grace’s eyes widened, and she glanced at Bernice for approval.
“Go,” Bernice shouted.
She sprinted back to the nurse’s station and grabbed the receiver, running her finger down the list of buttons until she found the transport operator line. She pressed the button and waited for a voice to pick up.
“Transport.”
“Hi,” she stumbled over her own lips. Running through these calls during her practicum was no sweat, but being responsible for it now, on her own, was something else. “I’m calling from Silver Creek Health Center. We have a patient with a head injury, and Dr. Mackey is requesting an air ambulance to either Winnipeg or Saskatoon.”
“Hold,” the voice replied.
Grace exhaled through pursed lips. An electronic chime sounded behind her, indicating the emergency room doors had opened.Lauren and Madison.
“Okay,” the voice had returned. “I’ve got an air ambulance dispatching now. They should be there in twelve minutes.”
Grace slammed the receiver down and raced back to Mr. Avery’s room.
“It’s on the way,” she announced as she rounded the bed to Bernice. “What can I do to help?”
Bernice didn’t answer. Grace’s breath caught in her chest as she realized silence had replaced the flurry of frantic voices. She turned from Bernice to Dr. Mackey. His hands were on Mr. Avery’s chest, and his head was slung low. She watched as his shoulders lifted and sunk with one long breath. He lifted his head to Grace.
“Cancel the transport.” His voice was low and crackled with emotion.
Grace flung her hand to her mouth, but Diane shot her a stern, tight-lipped glare and an almost imperceptible head shake. She yanked her hand back down and straightened her posture.
“Of course,” she replied, slipping back out of the room.
Outside the door, she allowed herself a second to react, bracing herself against the wall. But the deafening smash of metal hitting the wall, accompanied by Dr. Mackey’s booming voice letting a curse ring out, startled her out of it, and she hustled back to the desk.
After canceling the air ambulance, she stood staring down the hall toward the waiting room and chewing the inside of her cheek. She pictured Billy’s face and the fear she saw in his eyes when he’d jumped out of the ambulance. She was desperate to race down the hall, envelop him in her arms, and somehow protect him from the pain that was about to crash over him. But he wasn’t hers to protect. So instead, she twirled the drawstring of her pants around her middle finger while a crushing sensation coursed through her chest.
2
Billy
“It was around eight,eight-thirty. We’d already been working late getting that big grain truck rebuild done, but he said he still had to move some vehicles around in the yard to get ready for a pick up tomorrow. I don’t know,” Billy scrunched his forehead, “maybe five or six. Those old trucks he picked up at the Billings auction two weeks ago. You remember all those old Fords Mr. Billings had sitting out behind the grain bins?”
Madison crossed her arms over her chest. “Get to the point, Billy.”
“Right. Sorry.” He turned away from the girls and walked toward one of the many large windows surrounding the waiting room, looking out over the dark parking lot. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “So anyway, I told him I’d stay and help him. Nik was already gone for the day. He told me ‘no.’ Said he didn’t need me. I told him it’d be quicker with two of us, you know, with the rain and shit coming down. But he told me to go home.”
Fuck. You’re so fucking stupid. You shouldn’t have left.
Billy lowered his head, his eyes on the faded tile floor. “So, I did.” He paused for a moment, his shoulders rising as he collected another breath deep in his lungs.
