A Fight to Remember

The Wife in the Waiting Room Pt. 2

Bailey

Dr. Bailey wouldn't let us in the CT viewing room. We could, however, be with dad while they did his scan. Mom stood at the end, clutching his foot as the machine did its thing. My gaze, however, was on the doctors in that little room. Rebecca was there, with the Chief. Seemingly sensing my gaze, she looked up and her expression softened. It had been almost a day since I'd seen her, and I hadn't expected to see her at all today. But now she was here, looking after my long-lost father. I sighed and nodded at her, and she did the same.

We waited.

Finally the machine shut down, indicating that the scan was done. Rebecca entered the room with a couple of orderlies to transfer dad back to his bed. Mom moved from the foot of the bed to the side, grabbing his hand again and following them.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca asked.

I swallowed, my heart thudding hard inside my chest. I'm supposed to be strong. I'm the thinker, I'm the one with all the answers. But there was no class for this. No course for how to deal with your parents just pitching over and collapsing. No course for things like heart attacks and Alzheimer's and amnesia and brain bleeds. Nope.

I swallowed. "I'm fine." I nodded crisply, convincing myself.

Rebecca's gaze traveled over me slowly, taking me in. "Okay," she said, but I knew she didn't believe me. I nodded again and pushed past her to the door.

"Bailey," she called.

I stopped, still staring down the hall, where my father was parked.

"I'm here," she said, "You know, if you're ever, um, not okay."

I didn't know what that meant. I didn't have the emotional capacity for it at the moment. My head tilted slightly in her direction, and then I went toward my father.

He was parked outside, in the hall, because there was a very big possibility that he would need surgery, so they hadn't bothered to take him back to a room. Mom looked so tired. "Mom," I dragged a chair over and patted it, "sit down."

She nodded and collapsed on the chair. "Did you see the scans?" she asked.

I shook my head no.

She took dad's hand in hers, sighed and pulled her legs up to her chest.

"Mom?" I asked.

"There was like... five perfect seconds," she said. "Five seconds where, I was lucid, and he was standing right in front of me, dripping wet. I didn't know he had amnesia, and... we kissed..." her finger dabbed a tear that threatened to spill. "It was magical. I want that. I want that back again. Not this... I don't know how much more I can take."

"It's okay mom," I said, kissing the top of her head.

Just then I heard loud voices coming from the CT room. Dr. Bailey and Amelia. Not good.

Mom heard too and her head turned to the door.

"Stay here," I said. "I'll be right back."

I was surprised that she didn't follow me as I dashed over to the room.

"No!" Amelia was saying, her voice hard and defiant. "We are not waiting! He has a subarachnoid hemorrhage, do you have any idea the amount of damage a bleed like that can do?"

"Of course I do!" The chief snapped back. "I need the best surgeon, and that is Peters, and he is operating on a little boy right now. So, we need to wait-,"

"No," Amelia said. "Peters isn't the best."

Dr. Bailey looked like she'd been slapped. "Excuse me?"

"You want the best? I'm the best." Amelia pointed at herself with her thumb. "I have done this procedure more than a hundred times. How many has he done? Probably none, they are so rare. Not to mention, Peters has been awake for how long? No, he is not operating."