I was playing with the idea of "off-screen conflict," which you might see hints of in Alice's interactions with Tammy, but I didn't delve into it enough, I think.
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A second had contained too much. A second had lasted longer than any hour before it.
Four hours was an eternity.
Philip was in surgery for four hours. The nurse explained that one of his ribs had splintered, piercing his bladder and threatening to do the same to other essential organs. It wasn’t his only injury, but it was the one they were treating immediately, because it was the most life-threatening. At the end of the interminable four-hour wait, Philip was drugged to his eyeballs to keep him asleep, and wouldn’t have known if a freight train had gone through his hospital room, let alone his wife.
Alice stayed at the hospital, listening to the heart monitor, not sleeping. She wore comfortable jeans and a loose tee-shirt. Philip’s tee-shirt. It was green, and had a black shamrock on the breast pocket. She was glad someone had reminded her to grab their bags from the trunk before the ambulance went screaming off into the night. One small duffel and a suitcase for their clothes. She would be living out of those bags for a while. She had no intention of going home. Not while Philip was still like this.
Early the next morning, they wheeled Philip back into surgery. The nurse gave Alice a list of Philip’s injuries that she couldn’t contain in her mind, let alone process, and told her that he would be in surgery on and off all day long.
“If you need anything, just let us know, hon. We’re here for you and your husband.”
It was during one of her long, unbearable waits that her phone began to buzz. Alice pulled it out and saw her mother’s picture on the screen. With a sigh, she smeared her thumb across the screen to answer the call and lifted the phone to her ear.
“Hi, Mom.” Her own voice sounded unfamiliar, rough and husky. It was someone else’s voice, taking the place of her own, which had deserted her sometime around when she heard Philip screaming in the back of the ambulance as they cut his shirt away to examine the shattered rib.
“Ali, you sound terrible. What happened?”
It was then that Alice glanced at her watch and realized it was past lunch, and she had never alerted her parents to what happened last night.
“Philip and I… got into a car accident. He’s in surgery now.”
“Oh god - are you alright?”
“No, Mom, I’m not alright. My husband hasn’t said a word to me since before the wreck and he’s got a list of injuries longer than my arm and I don’t even know if he’s going to live!” Hysteria made her voice crack, and she stopped herself there, shaking. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry. I just… I’m not hurt. I’m okay. Philip… I’m scared, Mom. I don’t know what to do.” The numbness was suddenly gone and fear threatened to overwhelm her, drown her.
“We’ll be there soon, dear. Just give me a minute to get my coat. What hospital?”
“St. Paul’s.”
“What floor?”
“I don’t know. It’s all kind of a blur. Just ask for Philip Lancaster. The folks here will tell you where to go.”
“We’ll be there soon. Just hang tight, baby.”
*~*~*
“They said he would be awake today.” Alice paced nervously as she whispered the words, glancing at the bed every few seconds to see if anything had changed. Philip was pale and still, but breathing evenly, as he had been all morning. His left leg was in a cast from the hip down, and his arm was in a cast as well, though only his forearm. He didn’t look terrible… but he was so still! Even in his sleep, he’d always moved at least a little.
“He’s been through a lot,” said her father’s deep, soothing voice came from the corner, low and gentle, and Alice turned to face him as he continued, “let the boy rest a little.”
“He’s hardly a boy, Daddy. He’s almost 30. So am I.” Alright, so she was only 26, but each lost day was rubbing against the grain. She was a newlywed. This was supposed to be the best time of her life. With a sigh, she glanced at the bed again. Philip hadn’t moved a fraction from the position he’d been in all morning long.
“I’m going to go visit Tammy, okay? Waiting is frying my nerves.”
Her father nodded, watching her with concern as she left the room. Alice walked briskly down the hall, and took the elevator to the seventh floor, where the pediatric wing was. In room 714, Tammy was busy coloring. She was six years old, and couldn’t have weighed more than 40 lbs soaking wet (maybe 45). Tammy sported a blue-green bruise that covered half her face, and one of her legs was in a cast from ankle to knee. She also wore a special wrist brace, but that didn’t stop her from holding a crayon.
When she saw Alice, she grinned brightly. “Hiya, Ali! You gonna color with me?” Alice sat down beside the girl’s bed, relaxing a little.
“Sure. What are you coloring?”
“A fairy!” The page in front of the little girl was covered in stick figures with garish butterfly wings, and Alice smiled. Very quickly, the activity changed from them coloring together to Tammy telling Alice what to draw, then coloring it in enthusiastically.
It was stress-relieving, just to color and draw shapes, forgetting the rest of the world for a while. She and Tammy talked, making up stories about the various fairy-animals Alice drew for her. A fairy cat, whose name was Charlie. A fairy horse, that looked a little like a giraffe, named Henry. A fairy bunny rabbit, whose name was Princess Icicle Butterpop. The bunny was Tammy’s favorite. There was also a fairy dog named Bacon, who was apparently the villain, because he was always doing bad things, like taking Princess Icicle Butterpop’s toys, and chewing up her favorite blanket.
Eventually, Alice checked her watch and found she had been with Tammy for a little more than 45 minutes. With a stab of anxiety, she remembered her husband, and set down her crayons.
“I need to go, Tammy. I’ll be back, though, okay?”
“Later?” asked Tammy, looking resigned.
“Later. Maybe for dinner, if your dad isn’t coming.”
The little girl shrugged. “He said he’s busy today.” She said it with such familiarity, Alice wondered how often she’d heard it before.
“Then I’ll be back for dinner, okay?” Alice ruffled the girl’s hair and gave her a smile. “You be good.”
It was hard to resist the urge to jog back to Philip’s room. She restrained herself, but still received some “please don’t do that” looks from the nurses on duty as she walked more quickly down the hall than was strictly polite.
The door to Philip’s room was open. When she entered, so were his eyes. He smiled at her, though he still looked like he was half asleep at best. Alice took her seat at his bedside, ignoring her parents as she took her husband’s hand and promptly burst into tears.
Aw, he's awake! and Aw, she burst into tears! *sniff* I hope things turn out better for them soon!
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