"No, I'm okay Jason. Just shaken up."
"I'll call Mom and Dad."
"Do you have to?"
There was a pause. "Blythe, they'll find out anyway. Might as well be now, and get it over with."
"Okay. Thanks, Jason."
"Love you, kiddo. Be safe."
She swallowed a sob. "Yeah. You too."
The nurse called her name a few minutes later and brought her into a small, glassed in room to check her vital signs and talk about her accident.
"We're hammered today," the nurse said. "It may be a bit of a wait. I'm sorry."
"I have nowhere else to be," Blythe replied. "Can I get a blanket? I'm soaked from standing by the road in the rain."
"Sure. I'll bring you a nice, warm one."
Seated in the waiting room once more, the warm blanket around her, Blythe tried to stay awake. Her eyes kept drifting shut. Jason's voice next to her, roused her from her stupor.
"Heya, sis. You look like hell."
"Thanks, Jas. You know how to make me feel so good about myself."
He chuckled, kissing her forehead. "I can't stop shaking."
"That makes two of us."
"I knew something was wrong even before you called. I don't know how I knew, I just did. I almost picked up the phone and called. Then I told myself I was overreacting—being crazy."
"But you were right."
He brushed her long, brown hair from her face, cupping her cheek tenderly. "I hate being right."
He'd been right when Alec died. He knew almost to the minute when his life ended. Close as brothers, they'd been best friends since grade school. It was hard to say who suffered more after Alec's death, her or Jason.
The doors swooshed open and their parents hurried in. Her mother nearly strangled her by giving her a hug. Her father stood by, looking worried and frustrated. Blythe knew he wanted to yell. He always wanted to yell when he was worried. Instead, he gave her a bone crushing hug until Jason pried her loose.
"Dammit, Dad. You'll kill her."
"Are you sure you're all right?" their mother asked for the hundredth time.
"How does she know, Mom? She hasn't seen the doctor yet."
"Blythe Donovan?" An orderly stood next to her with a wheelchair. He was blond, blue eyed and had lovely dimples in both cheeks. "Hello. I'm Elam, your ride to radiology," he said with a smile. "Have a seat and we'll head out in style." He winked at her, his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a grin.
"We'll be here when you get back," her mother said, sobbing.
Blythe said nothing until the doors closed behind her. "You'd think I'd been half killed," she muttered. "Which is why I didn't want Jason to call them."
"Is Jason your boyfriend? Fiancé?"
Blythe glanced at him over her shoulder. He was tall, broad shouldered and handsome. His short, blond hair was wavy and his eyes were a mysterious shade.
"My brother. Why?"
He chuckled. "Cause you're very pretty, and I'd hate to think you're taken."
"The engagement ring isn't a give away?" She wiggled her finger at him.
"Which is why I asked. So, where's the guy who goes with the ring?"
"Arlington National Cemetery."
"Wow, walked hard into that wall. I'm so sorry."
"Thank you." She looked at the ring. "I suppose I should take the ring off. It's been a year."
"You take it off when you're ready," he said softly. "And I am sorry. Just, you're the prettiest woman to roll into my ER."
"Are you trying to ask me out?"
Elam chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, well—I'm a guy. Sue me." He swung the chair around a corner, slithered past an old man with a janitor's cart, and guided the chair into the radiology department.
"I'll be waiting when you're done," he said.
"I'd give you a tip, but I left my purse with my mother."
He chuckled, touching his forehead as he gave a deferential bow. "I live but to serve, miss."
"Elam, are you flirting with a patient?" the technician teased.
"You caught me. Take good care of this one," he said with a grin.
"I'll do my best. Scoot."
He went into the hall, closing the door behind him.
The technician took a series of films for the doctor to examine. When she was done, she opened the door. True to his word, Elam was waiting for them. He helped Blythe settle in the wheelchair and took off at a brisk pace.
©2022 Dellani Oakes
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