Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders (14 page)

Chapter 15

Soft knocking at
Clara’s bedroom door disturbed her light sleep.

“Yeah?”

The door opened to reveal Clay disheveled and standing in a pair of sweat pants. Not bothering to change for bed, Clara still wore her day clothes. When had she fallen asleep? After their argument? Maybe he couldn’t sleep.

“Clay?”

He walked to her bedside table. Soft light filtered from the shade of the lamp beside her bed.

“Clara.”

His face was gaunt. Prominent ridges outlined his lips and eyes.

“Something’s happened.” His voice cracked. “I need you to get up and get ready to go.”

He turned to walk away. Frantic, she jumped to her feet and reached for his arm. “Clay.” Her hair stood on end, electrified by fear. “It’s Jackson.”

“There was an accident. He was on his bicycle on the bridge.”

Her vision blurred, not from tears, something else. One million thoughts peppered her brain until something in her temple snapped like a rubber band. She’d gone numb. She stood frozen. The one thing she knew for certain was that one could not turn back time. She felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness wash over her. She should have fought for them, for
him
. Now she may never get the chance.

They rode to the hospital in silence. She didn’t recall getting into the car. Fireflies of light flickered through her window as cars passed with beaming headlights. Eventually the lights blurred into one solid ray, like those skewed photos that she used to enjoy of nighttime cityscapes with light trails. She wouldn’t like them anymore because the photos would forever remind her of this night.

Suddenly the car door opened and a hand pulled her out. She hadn’t been aware they’d stopped. Clay guided her into the E.R. She felt her legs about to give out, but knew all she had to do was follow Clay. Differences aside, he’d lead her to Jackson because he knew, even if only subconsciously, they needed each other in order to survive. One could not exist without the other.

She stood behind Clay at the counter and waited for him to make a move. It was the first time she noticed Eve was by his side.

“He’s already in a room.” Clay said.

They walked down a corridor and stopped in front of an elevator. Logan and Jessie were in front of them. Their son carried a plush Hedwig owl and held Logan’s hand. She wondered how they’d arrived ahead of them. Then she remembered Logan was a doctor. He didn’t actively work as one, but he’d completed his residency here at this very same hospital.

She cleared her throat, “Logan, do you have any information about Jackson?”

“No, I just got a call from Dad that there had been an accident and came as soon as possible.”

“Guys!”

Behind them St. Martins abounded including her mother and father. She ran to her mom and hugged her.

“Oh, honey.” Her mother rubbed reassuring circles on her back.

When she pulled away her gaze connected with Cash. Isa was there too.

“Where’s Daria?” She asked.

“We left her asleep with the nanny.”

“I didn’t know you had a nanny.”

“Remember mean Sister Timber?”

Clara grimaced. Sister Timber taught them all third grade at Sacred Heart Academy. If you were caught talking during mass she’d slap your palm with a wooden ruler.

They all migrated to the third floor waiting area. Cal and Chloe and Cory and Brook were already there. Seated and waiting.

“How did you get here before us?” Clara asked, dumbfounded because they lived in Whiskey Cove.

Cory answered, “We got the call from Dad and came as soon as we heard.”

Clay leaned into her and whispered in her ear so only she could hear, “I may have given them a head start so that you’d have the support you would need when we got here.” He kissed the top of her head.

She didn’t know if she should be mad at him for not telling her as soon as he got the call or pleased that he thought of her needs.

“I want to see Jackson.”

“Doors are locked. We’re waiting on a doctor.” She nodded.

Just then Camp, Jenny, and Andrew exited the elevator. The entire family had come to support Jackson. Clara wanted Jackson to see how much family and love he had. Energy sizzled through her spine. She was finding it difficult to wait. Why weren’t they allowed into his room? Was he hurt? Was he unconscious? She wouldn’t contemplate any more questions, and instead focused on all of the support before her. She watched as her brothers doted on the women in their lives.

Augie and Mia arrived, hand in hand. Clara was overcome with emotion at the sight in front of her—family and friends all here because they cared about Jackson. Even Clay.

A man in green scrubs burst through the set of locked double doors. Clara gasped, her eyes intent on the doctor, hoping for any shred of information.

Dr. Weaver greeted her parents. Given their greeting it became apparent to Clara that they knew each other relatively well. She was grateful for that small granule of hope. Dr. Weaver seemed to be purposely speaking low so Clara walked over to stand shoulder to shoulder next to her mother. Logan stood next to their father.

“ … fractured ulna in the right arm”—he traced fingertips across his arm—“grade two ankle sprain with complete tearing of some, but not all of the ligaments, grade three concussion due to closed head injury. CAT scan, as you know, revealed no long lasting trauma. However, he’s been unconscious for a while. When he wakes we’ll downgrade the injury and move him from ICU.”

Medical questions went through her head that she didn’t know how to put into words. He wasn’t brain injured, but he was in ICU and unconscious. Instead she asked, “Can we see him?”

“What are there, twenty of you?” Dr. Weaver’s eyes scanned the clan. “How about five?” He held up his palm to display five fingers.

She accompanied her mother and father beyond the double doors. Clay and Logan followed, rounding out a group of five.

The ICU rooms formed a circle around a nurses station. Dr. Weaver walked to room three. Clara followed her parents through the door.

First thing she noticed were deep abrasions along his shoulder and neck. Deep abrasive wounds that seemed to ooze in the low light. She gasped as her hand instinctively went to cover her mouth. Slowly, she made her way to the bedside and stood next to his head.

“Cracker Jack,” she whispered.

His left arm was casted and his right foot was encased in a red puffy bag. She leaned over and kissed his temple. “I’m here, Jackson.” She whispered low in his ear. “Everybody’s here. Your family has come to take care of you.”

Her mother and father took up the space next to her. “His face is all bruised and he has a black eye. The doctor didn’t mention that.” Her mother said.

Clara’s anger at Clay immediately sizzled in her veins as she recalled how the bruises got there. “That’s because those bruises were put there by Clay, not the bike accident.” She glowered at him.

“Clara.” Clay hissed. “I don’t think that’s something you want to bring up right now.”

“Son, why’d you hit him?” Her father asked.

“I didn’t do anything that you wouldn’t have.”

Clay and Clara glared at one another as the other eyes in the room observed their exchange.

Clay spoke, “Let’s just focus on Jackson right now.”

“Fine.” Clara turned her attention away from Clay. She clasped Jackson’s hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

As the hours passed she waited, never leaving his side, her eyes intent on him, willing him to wake up. Various members of her family had trickled in and out. A lot of his colleagues from the department came and Mr. Potter stopped by and dropped off a pot of tulip bulbs he’d harvested from his yard. Lexi even came to check on Jackson. Clara smiled at her when she’d squeezed her shoulder and given her a soda.

By late morning Jackson was mumbling in his sleep. Something that sounded a lot like he was calling for
Bug
over and over. Clara reassured him by whispering of her love in his ear. More than anything, she was relieved he was coming around.

As morning turned to afternoon more friends had popped in. Jackson was amassing quite a bit of
get well
paraphernalia. Teddy bears, plants, flowers, and cards dotted the small room. Clara was sure the nurses were tiring of the St. Martins overly abundant presence, but because they loved Jackson they tolerated his expansive family and network of friends.

“Bug?” Jackson moaned in his sleep.

“I’m here, Cracker Jack.” She whispered into his ear. His eyes rolled beneath the thin skin of his lids, but he didn’t open them. The doctor said he would soon and she continued to pray for that.

The hours wore on and she passed the time by enjoying her family. In one corner of the room she observed Parker, a family friend, speaking with Brook while Cory sat broodily observing the exchange his wife was having with the friendly guy.

“Hey, babe, we’re going to get some coffee. You want anything?” Brook asked Cory.

“No. I’m good.” He rubbed her huge round pregnant belly and smiled. “Hurry back.”

“Clara, you need anything?”

“No, thank you.”

Once they were gone Clara asked Cory, “What’s your problem?”

Cory’s brow hitched. “What’s Parker doing here anyway?” He sighed. “I didn’t know they were friends.”

Clara giggled. Cory’s intensity could always be counted on for a laugh. “You’re utterly ridiculous. Brook only has eyes for you.” She knew Parker was still pining after Brook, but it was useless. The woman was over the moon for Cory.

The corner of Cory’s mouth curled. “I know, but I still get jealous.”

“Please.” Clara rolled her eyes. “She’s about to give birth to your child.”

Cory smiled widely. “Yes, she is.”

“Parker and Jackson do some fantasy football league together.” Jackson didn’t have much time for that kind of thing anymore, but occasionally they’d go to Logan’s pub and, while the guys played the game, she’d hang out in the kitchen with Brook. Clara knew Parker from Moretti’s. His family had a huge seafood business that supplied orders all over the south. Moretti’s bought all of their shrimp and fish from Larue Seafood. Parker was a great guy, but the poor man had been in love with Brook since she first set foot on Louisiana soil. Brook had only wanted to be friends.

Clay and their parents came back into the room. That’s when she felt a squeeze from the hand wrapped in hers.

“Jackson.”

“Bug?”

“I’m here Cracker Jack.”

His eyes opened, unfocused at first, but slowly taking her into his gaze. He smiled and then his brow crinkled and he groaned.

“What is it? Do you want the nurse?”

“No, I just need you.” He struggled, but finally swallowed. “Bug, I love you.” His hand reached to her hair and stroked there.

“I love you Jackson.”

She leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips, lingering there for several seconds. Behind her vigorous throat clearing occurred. It was from Clay’s large thorax. She’d be able to decipher that sound at a sold out hard rock concert.

She turned. Mom, Dad, Logan, Cory, even Clay, regarded her curiously. For the moment she’d completely forgotten anyone else existed.

Her dad stepped forward. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

Her eyes cut back to Jackson. His face contorted into a deep frown.

“We … we’re together.” Clara said.

Silence pervaded as she scanned from her dad to her mom to Clay. Cory and Logan had slipped out.

Dad spoke, “You’re only eighteen, and Jackson, you’re almost thirty. It’s a little Don Johnson of you.” Jackson groaned.

“He’s twelve years older than Eve.” Clara pointed to Clay.

“Yes, but Eve’s not eighteen.” Dad countered.

Her mother sighed. “I don’t think you two give Clara enough credit. She was born older. I trust her.”

“Would you say that if I told you that their intimate relationship began two years ago?” Clay’s brow hitched.

Clara’s lips tightened. Her parents gasped.

A warning beep resounded from Jackson’s bed. A nurse entered, waving her hands in the air. “Everybody out now. And from now on it’s two at a time. You all are lucky I don’t ban you from visiting.”

Clara didn’t move, just stood quietly and watched as the nurse pressed several buttons.

“Is he okay?”

“Blood pressure is up. We can attribute that to the conversation, but he needs to recover if he’s going to get better.”

Clara nodded. Jackson was oblivious, fast asleep.