Sure, she’d been his first love, and an important one. And yeah, things had ended badly between them, which had left a lingering sadness that he’d never quite forgotten. But he should be over her by now. He should have been able to move on.
The problem was, he hadn’t. And he didn’t know why. Maybe he never would.
Chapter 8
MOLLY HAD PLANNED to sleep in this morning since she had a long drive ahead of her. Then she’d get up, have coffee and breakfast with her parents, and head out.
She was just rolling over to get out of bed when she heard the scream.
She bolted out of bed, threw open the bedroom door, and went running into the living room to see her mother sprawled on the floor, the ladder lying on top her. Her right arm and leg were twisted at a very unnatural angle. Pokey, her parents’ dog, was barking and whining by her.
“Mom!” She dashed over to her. “Are you okay?”
Her mother looked up, dazed. “Molly. It hurts.”
Oh, God. Her heart raced, panic setting in. “Where’s Dad?”
Tears streamed from her mother’s eyes. She groaned. “Store. Oh, honey. I’m hurt.”
That was it. She’d been so close to the fireplace, she might also have hit her head, though Molly didn’t see any blood. She went to the phone and dialed 9-1-1, told them her mother had fallen, and gave the address.
Her dad arrived in the middle of the phone call. He dropped his grocery bag and rushed to her mother’s side.
“Georgia. What happened?”
“I’ve already called for an ambulance, Dad. They’re on the way. I think she’s hurt her arm and leg. Not sure if she hit her head or not, so don’t move her. She’s in a lot of pain.”
Her dad smoothed her mother’s hair. Her mother was crying. She’d never seen her mom in such pain. And poor Pokey was just as upset as everyone else, licking her mom’s uninjured hand. Her mom petted the dog, seemingly aware enough to notice Pokey’s distress.
“Shh, it’s going to be okay, honey,” her dad said.
“I’m going outside to wait for the ambulance,” Molly said.
Her dad nodded without looking at her. She ran into her bedroom and tossed on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, then went outside and waited at the curb.
Within a few minutes the ambulance arrived. The paramedics came in and she and her dad backed away while they took over.
She put her arm around her father.
“You’re shaking, Molly.”
“I’m okay.” She was so not okay.
They immobilized her mother’s right arm and leg, as well as her neck, then loaded her onto the stretcher.
One of the paramedics addressed her dad. “Her vital signs are stable and she seems lucid. There’s no obvious appearance of a head injury, but until they check her out, we can’t be certain. We’re taking her to the hospital. You can meet us there.”
Her dad nodded. “We’ll be right there.”
Her mom looked scared.
Molly was scared, too. Her mother was the rock of the family, always in charge. Always healthy. She never even caught colds. To see her like this, so vulnerable, so wounded, was devastating.
Her dad turned to her. “You ready?”
“Let me brush my teeth and put on some shoes. Then I’ll be ready to go.”
It took her a minute. She brushed her teeth, ran a brush through her hair, shoved a ponytail holder onto her wrist, and pulled on her tennis shoes, then grabbed her phone and purse and they were out the door.
The ride to the hospital was interminable. Molly filled her father in about waking up and hearing her mother’s scream, finding the ladder on top of her.
“She was taking down those damn lights over the fireplace. I told her to wait, that I’d do it after breakfast.”
“You know Mom. She likes to get things done right away.”
Her father gripped the steering wheel. “I should have done it yesterday instead of watching the football game.”
She leaned over and rubbed his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Dad.”
They parked and went to the emergency room. Her dad filled out forms and gave insurance information, then they were directed to the waiting area.
“Dad, do you want a cup of coffee?”
He shook his head. He looked as miserable as she felt, but she needed some caffeine, so she wandered over to the vending machine and bought a terrible-tasting cup of coffee. The waiting was awful. After an hour, the front desk called her father’s name, so they got up and went to the counter.
“Your wife is in room twelve. Through the doors and down the hall, then turn right.”
She grabbed her dad’s hand and they walked through the doors.
Her mom was in a room with a glass door. Molly pressed a large button and the door opened.
She was asleep, her hair a mess—Mom would hate that. Georgia Burnett was always impeccably groomed in public. She was hooked up to monitors, and her arm and leg were heavily bandaged.
There was a nurse in there.
“Mr. Burnett?”
“Yes.”
“The doctor will want to talk to you. Have a seat and I’ll go get him.”
“Thanks,” Molly said, since her dad could only stare at her mom.
Her mother opened her eyes, blinked a few times. “Emmett?”
Dad stood, and Molly did, too. Her dad went over to her uninjured side. “Georgia.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to take down the lights.”
“It’s okay. How are you feeling?”
She smiled. “Better. They gave me some drugs to numb the pain. But I’m sleepy.”
He patted her hand. “Good. You rest.”
“They don’t have her neck immobilized any longer,” Molly said. “That’s a good sign, Dad.”
The doctor came in, a youngish guy who looked to be in his late thirties.
“Mr. Burnett, I’m Doctor Webb.”
They shook hands.
“This is my daughter, Molly.”
The doctor nodded.
“Your wife has suffered compound fractures in both her arm and her leg. Paramedics were concerned about the possibility of head or neck injury, but she checked out just fine there.”
Thank God.
“She will need surgery on both her arm and her leg, though. We did X rays and the damage is pretty severe. She took a good fall from that ladder.”