Waves of Despair: Oyster Cove Series Read online

Page 6


  I think about Brice, and how she’s not spoken to her parents since the argument on Christmas. They’re going to frown upon me showing up, but I don’t care. When I put that ring on her finger I was promising to stick by her no matter how terrible her family treats me. They’re not my concern. I have a future wife and child to focus on.

  Chapter 8

  Weston

  Worry rips through me as I consider every possible scenario, all bad. What if something happened to Kimber; something terrible, like an accident that took her life. What if Brice had to deal with the loss of her only sister? What would it do to her emotionally? Would that much stress be bad for the baby? Would she ever be able to recover from something so life changing? My heart breaks for the family, so I say a silent prayer while stepping on the gas as soon as my truck makes it out to the main highway that will take me to Salisbury. I’m at the mercy of the road now, and the closer I get to the hospital, the more I figure I should have heard something from Brice by now. It has to be bad if she hasn’t been able to borrow a phone to check in, or maybe she still thinks I’m sleeping off a hangover. I can only hope that’s the case, because thinking of other reasons leaves my heart a tattered mess. Hospitals remind me of my mom. I don’t know why. It’s been years, but they always do. For me there will always be a grave feeling when I step inside. I know they’re there to save people, but in my experience the hospital was the last place to hold my mom’s beating heart. I know I can’t blame the building, or even the countless doctors who did everything they could to prolong her life. But I do. I’ve always needed something to blame for talking her. For a while I thought it was God, but Mom was too faithful to be able to rest in perpetual peace if any of us kids gave up on our faith. Thank God Brice saved me. Agnostic was looking like a good idea until she set me straight, showing me the light again and making me want to appreciate every day I have on this beautiful earth. There are plenty of ugly things in this world, but just as many miracles, you just need to know where to look.

  I find a parking spot after driving through the garage three times. On the fourth level, I run down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. The emergency department is straight out the doors, and I suck in a deep breath of cold winter air before making a beeline for it. I enter like a bat out of Hell, only to be met with a casual welcome from the receptionist. “Can I help you sir? Do you need to be seen?”

  I’m already searching the area for someone I recognize, most importantly Brice. When I fail, I give my attention to the young blonde female and say a last name. “Carpenter. Probably Kimber.”

  “Gotcha. It looks like Miss Carpenter has been transferred to an upstairs room. Are you family?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I’m her brother-in-law.” I’m not getting into technicalities. Right now I need to find Brice.

  She fills out a visitor’s badge and gives me directions to get to the nearest elevators. Much like when I entered the emergency room, I find the nearest person sitting at a station and start there. “Carpenter. Can you tell me how to get to this room?” I hold up my badge that displays the person I’m there to see.

  The man points to his right. “Third door down.”

  I’m trying not to run. It’s more like a brisk walk where beads of sweat run down the sides of my face. My whole body shakes when I get to the door. A deep breath sucks in as I push forward and enter. Kimber turns when she hears me. Her eyes widen, and all I can do is notice that she’s alone. This boggles my mind. I contemplate passing Brice on the way in, and maybe I missed her. Maybe she’s trying to call me now, but I don’t have reception. I’m already pulling out my phone when I hear Kimber’s voice calling me. “West…”

  She’s mumbling, making it impossible for me to make out the words. I approach the bed. “What the hell did you do to yourself now?”

  “I’m sorry,” she squeals. “So sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me. It’s your new car.”

  Even under the oxygen tubes, I can see her face contort like she’s confused. “Brice,” she manages.

  “I’m looking for her too. How long ago was she in here?”

  Her eyes fill with tears, Kimber’s lips begin to tremble, but words fail to come. I don’t know why I feel obligated, but I reach my hand over and take hers. “It’s going to be okay. Your parents will get over it.”

  I hear a gasp and turn to see someone I recognize. It’s Kathy’s sister Karen. She’s holding her hand over her mouth, and it’s obvious she’s been crying too. I quickly let go of Kimber’s hand and walk toward the older woman. “Thank goodness. I thought that might have been you on the phone. Where is everyone else? Did you tell Brice to call me?”

  She looks over to Kimber, gives her a concerned grimace, and then pulls me out of the room. Her voice is in a broken whisper. “West, I’m sorry. I would have called sooner, but everything happened pretty fast. I only came because I knew I could get here sooner than Kathy.”

  “Is it bad? Does Kimber need an organ?”

  Her face crunches and she’s unable to continue speaking. I give her a second and watch as she nods. “Yes, but that’s not all of it.”

  “Well how bad is it? She’s awake. Isn’t that a good sign?”

  “West, it’s Brice.”

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t tell me she wants to donate the organ. That can’t happen. She’s pregnant.”

  When our eyes meet I stop talking. There’s something she’s not saying; something she’s afraid to say to me. I take her by the arms and force her to speak. “Please, just tell me what’s going on so I can find her and be there.”

  “She’s in intensive care, West. I…Brice was driving. They were hit head on by a drunk driver on the wrong side of the highway. Brice tried to swerve and the car lost control.”

  I leave the woman before she’s able to finish. This can’t be happening. Brice is injured. That’s why she didn’t call me. She’s unable to use the phone. She’s in intensive care. I’ve been wrong this whole entire time. Instead of worrying about my fiancée, I’ve been thinking it was Kimber.

  Frantic for answers, I race toward a nurse as soon as I’m let into the restricted area. “Carpenter. Brice.”

  “Are you family?”

  I nod. “Her fiancée. Please. What room is she is?”

  Out of the corner of my eye I spot two people I’d rather not have to deal with. Kathy holds a wad of tissues in her hand. She spots me heading in their direction and nudges for Phillip. He takes one look at me and pinches his frown into the position I’m used to seeing. Before I can walk past them he’s blocking the door. “I’m not here to fight. I just want to see Brice.”

  “The doctor is in there with her. You can’t go in.”

  I stick my hands in my pockets and try to peek through a small window. I can see movement, but nothing else. “Please tell me what is going on.”

  Kathy begins to sob in her hands. He offers her his hand on her shoulder and looks in the distance as if to fight his own emotions. “It’s not good. You shouldn’t be here, West.”

  Kathy corrects him. “He has a right to be here, Phillip. This isn’t the time or place.”

  Not that I’d expect any less, but Phillip walks away from us instead of being able to explain. I turn to Kathy with little patience left. “Please. You have to tell me what’s going on. Karen told me there was an accident and that the car lost control. She said they were hit by a drunk driver.”

  She nods. “Yes. The driver is here too. The police just left.”

  “I don’t care about that. Tell me about Brice. What’s going on? Karen said Kimber needs an organ. She wouldn’t talk about Brice.”

  She sniffles, but tries her best to explain. “The most damage was to the driver’s side of the vehicle. Kimber had been drinking, so Brice offered to get them both home safely.” She loses it before she’s able to continue. “I’m sorry, West. Just give me a minute please.”

  I place my hand on the woman’s shoulder and she falls against m
y chest. She’s falling apart and as frustrated as I feel not knowing all the details, my heart breaks for her. It must be difficult seeing both of your children in the hospital.

  “Brice suffered trauma to her head. She slammed into the side of the window upon impact, and then was thrown against the windshield when the car began to roll. The paramedics stayed until we arrived. They said Brice was in and out of consciousness at first. When they brought her in she was unresponsive.” She trembles as she goes on. “They managed to bring her back, but she’s not breathing on her own, West. She’s on a ventilator.”

  She backs away and places her hand on the small window. “My baby is in there and I can’t do anything to help her. She never should have been on that road. Neither one of them should be in here.”

  I hold onto the back of her shoulders and watch the nurses talking to the doctor. I can see wires, but they’re blocking Brice. “What have the doctors said?”

  The doctor walks out as soon as I ask. We stand directly in front of him as he removes his mask and gets right to the point. “Your daughter has suffered severe trauma to her brain. We’re going to go in to try to alleviate some of the swelling, but for right now she’s unresponsive.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means we have to wait and see. Some patients can recover, but others never regain consciousness. I know it’s not the news you were hoping for. We’re going to do everything we can to keep her comfortable and help reduce the swelling around her brain.”

  Kathy nods, but is unable to say anything else. The doctor gets a few steps away before I stop him. “Doctor, can I ask about the baby?”

  He opens the chart and looks around. “How far along was she?”

  “Eight weeks I think.”

  “Her HCG levels are reading high, so that’s a good sign, but I’m going to be honest with you. Miss Carpenter has life threatening injuries that are going to require surgery and a lot of prayers. Even if she doesn’t miscarry, there’s a good chance we’ll have to abort. We can’t risk further strain on the body.”

  I nod, but only because I know if I speak I’ll lose it. This can’t be happening. I sink down to the floor and hold my hands over my face. As sad as I am about the baby, I have to worry about Brice.

  Chapter 9

  Weston

  Phillip hears the news from his wife and finally comes back into the room. Being this close to her is a thousand times worse. Most of her body is bandaged, especially her head. Blood had seeped through in some areas, causing me to cringe as I take in every visible inch of her. She’s hooked up to so many machines, and I’m not sure which one is keeping her alive, but I’m grateful. I have hope. Without nothing remains. Looking at her in this way only makes it harder to imagine a full recovery. I haven’t been in the same room with Phillip without some kind of smart comment since I’ve known him. It only proves how serious this is. Refusing to look him in the eyes, I put all my focus on my fragile love. This can’t be happening. It’s like a nightmare I’ve yet to wake up from.

  The sound of Kathy’s voice startles me. “Had she seen a doctor for the pregnancy?”

  It figures. Now that’s it’s too late she wants to know about her grandchild. I’m too weak to fight. It’s taking everything in me to stay focus and not lose my shit in front of them. “She told me that night at the lighthouse, after I asked her to marry me.” I drag my hand over hers as I continue. It’s hard thinking about the possibility of her never waking up. “I didn’t know she’d missed a period. She never said anything. When I asked her to be my wife she thought I somehow stumbled on the secret and felt obligated.”

  I hear her father mumble something from behind, but refuse to take my eyes away from Brice. “I swear I didn’t know. It was the best surprise of my life. It was better than any acceptance to marriage. We were going to be a family. We still can be, just as long as she wakes up.” My next sentence is for Brice and not her parents. “I need you to wake up, babe.”

  As soon as I say it an alarm goes off on one of he monitors. The room fills with nurses, and we’re being pushed out before the doctor makes it in. I watch in horror as they begin to wheel her out of the room. They’re calling off medical terms and talking about taking her into emergency surgery. Not even realizing I’m doing it, my feet follow behind them, as if I’ll be able to stay by her side while this happens. They scan badges and whisk the gurney through a security authorized door, one nurse turning at the last minute to prevent me from going any further. “This is restricted, sir. The doctor will come out and talk to you when he can.”

  I watch her skirt through the double doors and know entering would only make a lot of people mad. Turning around, I come face to face with her concerned parents. The look on their faces make my fear worsen.

  Engrossed in a perpetual state of despair I stand alongside two people in this world who never thought I was good enough. On this day we're all seemingly equals. Our hearts are heavy as we await news of any kind.

  I pace. We all do. Karen brings hot coffee, but I only opt to hold mine, because a burning hand reminds me that this isn't a terrifying nightmare.

  They talk amongst each other, while I find one window overlooking the hospital parking lot. It's not the scenery I'm focused on. It's more to the point of not staring at the double doors knowing she might never come back out again.

  My stomach is in knots. My head pounds. There's a constricting tightness in my throat from fighting back tears I refuse to shed.

  Karen comes to stand beside me while I watch Kathy and Phillip leave the area. "They're going to check on Kimber. I told them I'd come down and get them if we have any news."

  I nod. "Must be difficult needing to be in two places at once."

  "This is a horror no parent wants to have to deal with."

  "Kimber's condition, is she stable?"

  "She really needs a kidney."

  I wipe my hair back and think about these two girls fighting for their lives. At this point it's not about if either deserve this. It's about praying to God both make it out of this alive.

  "Brice didn't tell me she was leaving last night. I heard the phone call. Kimber must have been asking for ride. When I woke up and discovered she wasn't home I thought they'd decided to stay somewhere else. I never thought for a second this could be happening."

  Enveloped with worry, Karen reaches over and touches my arm. "None of us wants to assume the worst, West. We have to keep praying that God will provide."

  I don’t want to tell her I’ve been down this road before and gotten only disappointment and heartache. Brice tried to teach me that God doesn’t take people without a reason. He takes those who no longer need to be burdened with the trials of this life. I want to believe that. I have to, but it’s almost impossible at this point. "I can't believe this is happening. She has to be okay. I can't lose her." Them. I can’t lose them. Thinking of the unborn child without a say in all of this rips me apart. That little life we created doesn’t have a chance. I’ll never be able to hold my baby in my arms and celebrate the joy that comes with it. I may never be able to celebrate anything with Brice again. This could be it. The end of everything for her, for us. For me.

  I'm too choked up to stick around and have a conversation. After excusing myself, I take a walk down a long corridor to try to calm down, except there isn't a way for me to settle my thoughts. I'm petrified. I want to wake up and have my beautiful Brice staring at me wide eyed in our bed, promising she'll never leave me. I need it to happen, because if I stand in this limbo for much longer I'm going to fall to pieces.

  The news comes nearly two hours after they took her back into surgery. There's nothing they could do to save her. The head trauma was too severe. Even if she would have survived she would have been brain dead for the rest of her life.

  I watch her mother collapse against her father's chest. He turns his gaze to the side and closes his eyes, a constant mask of pain now apparent on the once strong man's face.

 
Karen hurried over to help with her sister while I remain in the same spot, standing still as the life drains out of me. I keep telling myself that this isn't real. She can't be gone. There's no way.

  I feel like if I continue repeating it I will somehow make it happen.

  My emotions take over. I'm falling apart by the second. I'm angry. I want to hurt someone, or something. I need to burden myself with a physical pain so it can distract me from the emotional tear of my heartstrings. I need to bottle up my feelings before they take me down a path I swore I'd never venture again, but I know it's too late.

  We didn't get to say goodbye. She never asked me to go with her. I could have saved her. I could have seen the driver coming and saved both of them.

  I'm not around when the doctor asks them about her organs. Not that I'd have much say in the matter. Brice would want to save her sister, even if it's the last thing she did in this life. When Karen tells me what's going on I have to get out of there. I can't remain and wait to cry over the body of my lost future. There's no way to not want to hold her and never let go.

  I’m running for the parking garage, determined to distance myself from the sounds of their heartbreak. I don’t want to compare notes or hear that it’s going to be okay. I certainly don’t want to be anywhere near Kimber, who it turns out is probably going to live because of her sister’s death. It makes me sick imagining the cause of this getting a second chance. It’s not fair. I hate her more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life. She gets to keep a part of Brice with her. She doesn’t deserve this. I hope she suffers an unimaginable guilt for the rest of her days. If I never lay eyes on her again it will be too soon. She’s stripped me of my happiness, and in turn gets rewarded with a healthy kidney. What kind of sick and twisted reality am I living in?