Authors: Katie Ashley
“Swallow this.”
He lifted his head and let her put the pill in his
mouth.
“You don’t have any other medicine with you to take?
Like nitroglycerin?”
Patrick grimaced. “Left it in my other pants,” he
wheezed. At what must’ve been her horrified expression, he murmured, “Sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. It’s okay.”
“Pray, angel.” A shaky hand came up to tenderly
touch her cheek.
Tears stung her eyes. “Of course, I will. I am. And
you do too! Say a Hail Mary or whatever it is you Catholics do!”
Patrick chuckled and then winced. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand tight and tried
to give him a reassuring smile.
“If this doesn’t go well—”
Emma’s body tensed. “No! Don’t you dare talk like
that!”
He closed his eyes briefly before opening them.
“Listen to me. If I don’t make it, promise me you’ll give Aidan another
chance.”
“Oh Patrick,” she moaned.
“Promise,” he urged.
The last thing in the world she wanted to do was lie
to a potentially dying man. Somehow she found the courage to nod her head.
“Okay, I promise.”
“Good girl.”
When firemen came barreling through the door, Emma
said a thanks to God that the fire station sat just across the street from the
VFW. Since most of them had EMT training, she knew they could help Patrick
until the ambulance arrived.
“Excuse us, ma’am,” a young guy said.
Emma reluctantly dropped Patrick’s hand. The two
firemen inched past her and squatted beside Patrick. Entwining her fingers, she
brought them to her lips that were murmuring prayers. She watched as one man
put an oxygen mask over Patrick’s face while the other took his pulse.
Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t even hear the
ambulance siren. The next thing she knew EMT’s had arrived and were putting
Patrick on a stretcher. “Em!” came his panicked cry through his mask.
“I’m right here,” she called, pushing one of the
firemen out of the way. Groping along the gurney, she snatched up his hand.
“I’m here. You’re going to be just fine.”
The stretcher rumbled and shook along the uneven
pavement as they wheeled him to the open doors of the ambulance. Emma had to
fight to keep up with them, and she found herself winded as they started to
load Patrick inside. His face crumpled when she was forced to let his hand go.
“I’m still here!” she cried, fighting the tears that
scorched and burned her throat and eyes.
Emma felt a hand on her shoulder. A young fireman
with kind eyes smiled at her. “Do you want to ride with him?”
“Please, can I?”
“Sure you can. Just come around to the front with
me.”
Emma stepped closer to the doors of the ambulance.
“Patrick, I’m going to be right up front. I’m not leaving you. Okay?”
He bobbed his head. “I love you, and I’m right up
front,” she cried again, as the fireman pulled her away.
They walked around the side of the ambulance. He
opened the passenger side door for her. “Up you go.”
She braced herself on the doorframe and tried
hoisting herself up. With her adrenaline depleted, she was too weak. Hands came
around her waist and pushed her forward. She gasped as she flopped onto the
seat. Once she collected herself, she turned around.
The young fireman’s cheeks flushed crimson. “Sorry
about that.”
“No, it’s okay. Thanks for the help.”
He grinned before slamming the door. Emma turned in
her seat to watch the EMT’s working on Patrick. “See, I didn’t leave you,” she
said.
The wail of the ambulance’s siren starting up caused
Emma to shudder. Like an electrical storm in the summer, long buried memories
flashed in her mind. Although she gripped the sides of her seat, she was miles
away from the chaos surrounding her.
With her hand wrapped firmly in her
mother’s, she skipped into the fire station. At the sight of her father, she
squealed and ran forward. “Daddy! Daddy!”
“Hey baby,” he said, hoisting her into
his arms. She wrapped her legs around him as he squeezed her tight. “So you’re
finally getting to see my new station, huh?”
Emma nodded. She hadn’t quite understood
why they had left the mountains to come to the city. In fact, she had cried big
tears from the back window of the car when she watched Granddaddy and Grammy
waving goodbye. But Daddy had tried to explain he could make more money if he
worked as a fireman in Atlanta, rather than in Ellijay. They could have nicer
things. He’d even gotten her a puppy to try to make things easier.
“Let me wear your hat! Please Daddy!”
He chuckled. “Of course you can.” When
he sat the fireman’s visor on her head, Emma’s neck felt wobbly and weighted
down. He walked her over to the gleaming red fire engine. “You want to hear the
siren, angel?”
She squirmed in his arms. “Oh yes!”
He climbed onto the rig and sat her down
on the seat. Her hands automatically went to the steering wheel, and she turned
it back and forth, pretending to drive. He blared the horn. “Again, Daddy!” He
grinned and honked it until the rest of the guys in the firehouse were ready to
throttle him.
Like wispy shadows of fog swirling along rooftops
and skylines, Emma’s mind unveiled another memory just a short year later.
She
was at school and sitting on the reading rug. With rapt attention, she listened
to her teacher reading from a book about bears having a Halloween party where
popcorn overflowed their house. The classroom door creaked opened, and Emma
stared in surprise at Granddaddy standing in the doorway. She raced over to
meet him, happily taking his hand. Out in the hallway, he pulled her into his
arms and carried her outside. Grammy stood at the car hugging Nana, Daddy’s
mother. Emma peppered him with questions. “What’s happened, Granddaddy? Why are
you all here in Atlanta? Where’s Mommy and Daddy?”
For the first time she could ever
remember, Granddaddy had tears in his dark eyes. “Emmie Lou, there was a bad
fire, and your Daddy was trying to save these children. He got them out safely,
but he…” His voice choked off with emotion. “Baby, your Daddy’s gone to live
with the angels.”
That one statement sent her kicking and
screaming out of his embrace. “No, no, no! Daddy wouldn’t leave me! He’s taking
me to the circus this weekend.” Her fists beat into Granddaddy’s belly. “You
tell the angels to bring Daddy back!” she cried.
The sound of the ambulance doors rattling open
snapped Emma into another memory.
Once again she clutched her mother’s hand
as they weaved in between the tombstones in the cemetery. She had never seen so
many people in all her life. People kept calling her daddy a hero. They sank
down onto one of the velvet chairs under a green tent. Clinging to her
mother’s side, she jumped with every rifle blast of the Twenty-One gun salute.
Then a man knelt before her mother with a folded flag. He glanced over to Emma
and gave her a sad smile. She would never forget his soulful brown eyes.
“Ma’am?”
Emma jolted back into the present. Glancing over her
shoulder, she saw that Patrick’s stretcher had already been taken from the
ambulance. The EMT, who had driven them to the hospital, stood with the
passenger side door opened, beckoning her with his hand. “Here let me help
you.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. After she hopped down, he
led her through the automatic doors. Pointing down the hallway, he said, “They
took him to room two.”
She nodded. “Thank you for everything.”
Emma staggered down the white tiled floor. An
antiseptic smell assaulted her senses. Men and women in blue and green scrubs
hustled between rooms and patients. She gave the nurses station a fleeting
glance before cutting across the hall to where Patrick was. When Emma started
for the door, a nurse blocked her. “No, ma’am. You can’t go in there. You’ll
have to go to the waiting room.”
“How is he?”
“We don’t know anything yet. They’re running tests.”
The nurse gripped Emma’s shoulder. “If you’ll just go have a seat, someone
will—”
Emma shook her head furiously from side to side.
“Please, let me stay here. I won’t get in the way, I promise. He didn’t want me
to leave him!”
The nurse took in Emma’s swollen stomach, and her
expression softened. She glanced over her shoulder before sighing. “Okay. Is
there anyone else you should call?”
Emma had been so consumed by the ghosts of the past
along with Patrick’s condition, she hadn’t even thought of calling Aidan or his
sisters. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh God, I can’t believe I didn’t call his
children!”
“It’s okay, honey. I’m sure you’ve had a lot to
process. Why don’t you step right over there?” the nurse motioned to a table
with a shiny black phone on top of it.
Emma nodded and walked away from Patrick’s door. She
eased down into the uncomfortable plastic chair. With Becky and Liz in Disney
World and Julia living out of state, Aidan and Angie were the closest in
distance of getting to the hospital. She tried Angie first, hoping she could
get her to call Aidan. But she didn’t pick up, so Emma was forced to leave her
a voicemail asking her to call her as soon as she could.
With shaky fingers, she dialed Aidan’s cell number.
He answered on the third ring. “This is Aidan Fitzgerald.”
The sound of the deep timbre of his voice vibrating
her ear made her chest tighten. For a few moments, she couldn’t process
thoughts, and she certainly couldn’t speak. “Hello?” he prompted.
“Um, it’s me.”
Aidan sucked in a sharp breath on the other line.
“Emma…” The way he said her name caused her to shiver. It hummed with a mixture
of both pleasure and pain. “God, it’s so good to hear your voice.” She remained
motionless, unspeaking and unblinking. He was paralyzing her with just his
voice. “Please say something. Please talk to me, Em,” he begged.
Snap out of it
a voice deep
within her screamed. She shook her head. “I’m not calling because of all that.
It’s your dad. We’re at the ER at Wellstar.”
His tone changed over in an instant. “Wait, what
happened to Pop?”
“I don’t know yet. He had chest pains and collapsed
at the VFW. They’re running tests. He’s conscious and breathing on his own.”
“Fuck. I’m an hour away below Atlanta.” He growled
in frustration. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she replied. She hung the receiver up before
he could say anything else.
She turned her attention back to Patrick’s door. A
slow eternity seemed to tick by as Emma waited for news. She paced back and
forth outside. Every time another doctor or nurse entered, her heart shuddered
to a stop. Wringing her hands, prayers rolled through her mind continuously.
After trying unsuccessfully to get two nurses to
give her an update, she leapt at the next person to come out of the door.
Twisting her fingers into his white coat, she held on for dear life as the
tears pooled in her eyes. “Please, please you have to tell me what’s
happening!” she demanded.
The doctor brought his hands to hers, and instead of
shoving her away, he took them tenderly in his own. She glanced up into a pair
of soulful brown eyes that radiated with empathy. “What’s your name,
sweetheart?” he asked.
“Emma.”
A warm smile cut across his handsome face—one that
in any other situation might have caused her heart to beat a little faster or
even a stirring below her waist. His jet black hair fell in waves across his
forehead, and his pearly white teeth contrasted against his dark skin. “Emma,
I’m Dr. Nadeen. I need for you to take a deep breath and calm down, okay?”
She shook her head wildly. “But I—he—”
“Mr. Fitzgerald is going to be just fine. We have
him stabilized while we’re running some tests. But it doesn’t appear that it is
anything life threatening. He’s in good hands. I promise.”
The news caused her knees to buckle, and she would
have dropped to the floor if Dr. Nadeen hadn’t wrapped his arms around her.
“Whoa, now.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Come with me.” With one arm firmly
around her waist, he led her to the room across the hall from Patrick’s.
“No, I need to stay with him,” she protested as he
eased her down onto the bed.
“You can see everything that goes on from here.” He
knelt down in front of her and brought his fingers to her wrist. “Your pulse is
racing. You’ve got to calm down. Can I get one of the nurses to call your
husband?”
Emma winced. “I don’t have a husband.” When he
started to open his mouth, she shook her head. “Or a boyfriend.”
“I know you’re worried, but you have to look out for
yourself and your little one.” His gaze dropped to her belly. “How far along
are you?”
“Twenty-three weeks,” Emma replied.
“Ah, and do you know what you’re having?”
“A boy.” Her hand went to her abdomen. “A very
active boy from the way he’s kicking right now.”