“Yes,” she whispered even though she felt anything but. Everything hurt now, and she didn’t know if it was out of panic or if she’d landed harder than she wanted to admit.
Danny raced down the road while Liv shut her eyes and prayed harder than ever for the baby. Terrible thoughts ran through her mind. Thoughts she hated with every fiber of her being. She tried to think about happy things, like honey and cake and watching Dancing with the Stars curled up on the couch with Danny. He didn’t really enjoy watching the television show, but he traded it for Woodsmith Shop, a program she wasn’t fond of. Only that was a fib because anytime she got to sit close to him put her in a good mood.
He didn’t talk as he drove, yet tension came off him like a power surge. She tried to keep herself calm so he wouldn’t carry her anxiety, too, but she was pretty sure he did anyway, his hands tight enough around the steering wheel that his knuckles were white.
Liv put her free hand on her stomach, wanting more than anything to keep some kind of connection to her baby. She couldn’t wait to feel those first movements beyond the flutters she’d convinced herself were a jab here or a kick there. It’s got to be a boy. And he will have all his fingers and all his toes and make it to forty weeks.
Tired of holding the rag to her head, she shifted to rest her elbow on the door in order to keep her arm propped up. Were they almost there? Should she call Dr. Silver?
A headache the size of Texas throbbed behind her temples, making her lightheaded. She’d been nervous about talking to Danny this morning so instead of her usual oatmeal with honey, she’d eaten only half a banana for breakfast. Suddenly, her arms and legs tingled, a shiver charged down her spine. Low blood sugar? Or nerves getting the best of her?
The hospital sign came into view. Danny parked in front of the emergency room entrance and was halfway out his door before the car even came to a complete stop. He also left the keys in the ignition.
He ran around to her side and carefully undid her seat belt, his worried hazel eyes on her stomach before meeting her gaze. “I’m so sorry, Liv.”
She had no idea what he was apologizing for and didn’t ask because he gathered her in his arms again. “I can walk.”
“No. I’ve got this.”
A man on a mission, he strode through the sliding glass doors of the ER and went directly to the check-in counter. They were quickly taken back to an exam room and just as Danny sat her on the bed, the ER doctor entered.
Liv tried to blink everything into focus, but the last few minutes were a blur. She didn’t like hospitals. The smell, the monochrome color, the memories of watching her nana take her last breath.
The doctor introduced himself and asked Liv what had happened. Danny jumped in to answer, his voice strained. “Now you,” the doctor said to her, his gloved hands combing through her hair. She flinched when he got close to the painful spot.
As best she could, she described what had happened and where it hurt.
“On a scale of one to ten what would you rate your pain?” the doctor said.
She had a high tolerance for pain, which worried her because she answered six, which probably meant ten for most people.
A flurry of activity followed with two different nurses coming and going. A fetal monitor was set up. The doctor talked fast, and Liv latched onto the words concussion, stitches, swelling around the kneecap. But she only cared about one thing. “Will the baby be okay?”
“Your baby is safely cushioned inside your abdomen, but it is possible to have preterm contractions or leak amniotic fluid due to a fall, so we’ll call Dr. Silver and do an ultrasound. I’m more concerned with your head and knee at the moment.”
Nodding to the doctor, she made eye contact with Danny. He’d been pushed to the corner of the small room and she wished he could hold her hand. A nurse reentered and spoke in a hushed tone to him. He ran a hand over his jaw, his expression grief stricken, but accepting.
“I’ll be in the waiting room,” he mouthed to her.
“Okay,” she mouthed back.
But it wasn’t. Because she had the strangest feeling watching him turn to leave that he wouldn’t be back.
…
Danny sat slumped in the hard plastic waiting room chair. He could barely take a breath for worry jamming his lungs. His jaw hurt from the constant clenching, his muscles were rigid enough to tear if he moved the wrong way. Every medical term the ER doctor had thrown out was like a punch to the gut. If anything happened to the baby, Liv would be devastated. He would be, too.
He’d tried to reach her before she hit the ground and his toolbox, but with his periphery vision compromised he’d been unable to react fast enough. Seeing the fear on her face as she lost her balance had cut deeper than he’d ever imagined. Things seemed to happen in slow motion after that, each agonizing second it took him to reach her twisting his gut tighter.