Perhaps Love - Cover

Perhaps Love

Copyright© 2016 by ShadowWriter

Chapter 5

It came to her in fragments – images and sounds, all disjointed, disconnected. Pressure. She felt weight on her. Screaming. Where was it coming from? Pain. Terrance crumpled on the pavement. Eyes of the driver wide open in terror. Blood, too much blood. Weight. She can't move. A little girl ... Hailey ... running ... kneeling ... crying...

Rachel's eyes flew open, her heart beating wildly. Within seconds, however, she knew the nightmare had not really ended. The weight she felt was an exhausted Hailey, passed out on her own chest and shoulder as she herself reclined uncomfortably in a chair. Looking around, she could also make out, in the dim light of the surgical waiting area, the sleeping forms of Nina, Hannah, Chloe and Zoe. The only sound was the steady tick of the clock on the wall. It read 3:42 am. Over seven hours and he was still in surgery.

She groaned in pain as she attempted to move into a more comfortable position. Her right leg, elevated as it was on a nearby chair with a stiff brace around the ankle, made that very difficult. The sleeping child on her chest made it pretty much impossible. Her arms already around her charge, Rachel stopped moving and hugged the girl gently to herself. She would not complain.

Hailey had clung to her all through the many interviews, both at the scene and then at the hospital. Inconsolable, except when with her, Rachel even held the child on her lap while the EMTs examined her ankle – which she must have twisted in the fall. Then the two of them firmly rebuffed the Child and Protective Services lady when she said she'd have to take Hailey with her. Rachel smiled warmly at the thought and turned to kiss the sleeping child on her cheek. "No," she murmured quietly, "esta corazoncita está conmigo."

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, so she turned just in time to see a stocky nurse in surgical garb peeking through the narrow window of the waiting room door. She had met her not long after reaching the hospital. Tina, her name was Tina. Waving her in, Rachel searched the woman's face and posture for any news.

The nurse sat next to her, touched her arm and gave a weary smile. "He's in recovery now," she told her softly. "He'll be there for another half hour and then they'll move him down to ICU."

Rachel felt her eyes mist up and a sob caught in the back of her throat. "Is he... ?" She tried to speak but couldn't, as crashing waves of relief and worry rolled over her.

"He's in critical but stable condition," she explained. "The surgeon will be in to talk with you in just a little bit. He had to fly in from Honolulu, which is why we started late."

Rachel nodded at the news, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. "Thank you so much, Tina," she offered when she finally was able to speak.

"You're welcome, Rachel," she responded with a gentle smile. "Say, were you able to reach any of his family back home?"

"Unfortunately, no," Rachel answered, shaking her head. "His cell phone was totally smashed in the accident and this little one," she affectionately patted Hailey's back, "only knew her home phone and her dad's cell number."

"And there was no other contact information on him?"

"Not really, just the typical stuff in his wallet," she replied, nodding toward her purse where it currently was. "We're not even sure what hotel they were staying at back in Honolulu, since all he had on him was a generic keycard."

"Oh, wow. If he was awake, it wouldn't be a problem but with him unconscious..."

"Exactly. The police were pretty helpful, though, and said they should have everything tracked down – including his folks – by later this morning."

Just then a thin Asian man in surgical scrubs opened the door to the darkened room. Tina smiled and patted Rachel's arm as she got up to leave. "Here's Doctor Tagawa."

The surgeon acknowledged the nurse as he passed her and then sat in the seat she vacated. With what appeared to be tremendous exhaustion, he momentarily took off his glasses and slowly rubbed his eyes. Fixing her with a concerned gaze, he spoke.

"Ms. Vargas, I'm Dr. Jason Tagawa and before I start, I need to ask you – what is your relationship to Terrance Steiger?"

She gave him a confused look. "I don't understand."

"Because of HIPAA privacy regulations," he explained, "I'm limited as to what medical information about a patient I can share and also with whom I can share it. Usually the patient will let us know in both cases but that is not possible right now."

"Would it help if I said I was his fiancée?" she asked.

One of Dr. Tagawa's eyebrows lifted in surprise as a broad smile emerged. "Something tells me Mr. Steiger will be both shocked and overjoyed to hear the news when he wakes up."

Rachel started to laugh but quickly covered her mouth when young Hailey, who was still laying on her, began to stir. "I suppose he would," she admitted with a grin, but then grew more serious.

"Actually, Terrance is a dear friend who saved my life and this is his daughter, Hailey," she finally informed him, again gently patting the sleeping child. "Since we still haven't been able to reach any of their family back in Illinois, I'll be taking care of her for the foreseeable future. I need no say in any of his medical decisions. I just want to be able to tell her, and eventually her grandparents, how her dad is doing."

"That is exactly what I needed to know for the paperwork," he said with a larger smile and then rolled his eyes. "Ugh, they bury us in the stuff!"

"I can imagine," she said with a sympathetic nod.

Quietly scooting the chair around so he could face her directly, the surgeon sat forward in it with a non-nonsense expression on his face. "All right, here's the situation as it stands right now. It was touch and go there for a bit, but Terrance pulled through and will be listed in critical but stable condition for the next few days. His injuries from being hit and then rolled over by that truck were quite extensive."

Rachel gasped in horror. "It actually rolled over him?"

Dr. Tagawa nodded. "His legs."

"I had no idea," she replied, now rather distraught. "I was facing away when he pushed me out of the way and then, when I got up, he was just lying there with all that blood."

"He was in pretty bad shape when they brought him in," the surgeon agreed. At this point, the good doctor started in on a rather detailed medical explanation of Terrance's condition.

Rachel, already fatigued from all the stress and the late hour, waved her free hand in surrender. "Whoa there, doc. It's late and you're shooting over my head. Can you dumb it down for this airhead fashion model?" she asked with a weary smile.

He chuckled at the request and voiced his doubt as to the accuracy of that description. The condensed version, though, was that Terrance – in addition to numerous bruises and abrasions – had a severe concussion, a fractured left wrist, several bruised ribs and a damaged kidney, also on the left side, as well as a bruised pelvis. As far as the kidney went, they were confident it would bounce back, and the surgeon was happy to report that the damage to the pelvis was minor and did not appear to affect either hip joint. His lower legs, however, were another matter.

"The good news is that his right leg only has a small hairline fracture in the fibula and should heal relatively quickly," he continued with a rather somber look on his face. "The bad news is that the whole lower end of his left leg – from the middle of his shin to his foot – has been crushed. That, by the way, is why he was bleeding. Who was it that applied the tourniquet?"

"Nina," she replied, pointing to her personal assistant sleeping across several chairs along the far wall, "she has some nurse's training."

"Well, she saved his life," Dr. Tagawa acknowledged with complete seriousness. "He'd torn several major blood vessels in the accident and if she hadn't done that, he might very well have bled out before the EMT's even arrived."

At the news that they could have lost him that quickly, Rachel felt sick to her stomach.

Seeing her distress, the doctor reached over and gently patted her arm. "As tough as that was to hear," he told her quietly, "I have some more bad news." He waited a few moments for her to collect herself, then continued. "Despite our best efforts and the many hours we just put in reconstructing his lower left leg, he still may lose it."

"Oh my God ... really?" Rachel's voice, tinged with deep sadness, faded out in a whisper.

The surgeon nodded but then lifted his hand in caution. "We will be watching for two things in the days to come, namely, insufficient blood circulation and – more importantly – infection. Personally, I think he's going to pull through with flying colors but, at the same time, I don't want to minimize the very serious risks he's facing."

Stunned, Rachel could only sit there and try to absorb it all.

"Do you have any questions?"

Exhausted and overwhelmed, she shook her head no.

"That's fine. It's very late and you're tired. If you do have any questions, here's my card," he said, handing it to her. Standing up, he glanced around at the sleeping women and then back to Rachel. "Why don't you all head back to where you're staying and get some rest. You can always call the ICU and get an update. I'll stay in close contact with the staff here and will fly back over in a couple days to check on him. Okay?"

She nodded and then reached up for his hand. "Thank you so much, Dr. Tagawa."

He shook her hand in response, smiled warmly at her, and then left.

Looking around the room, the only sound Rachel heard, once again, was the steady tick of the clock on the wall. She knew she needed to wake the girls so they could all gather their things and head out to wherever in the heck Nina had arranged for them to stay. But to do that, she'd first have to somehow get out of her chair.


It was a nice ride as far as limousines go, but Rachel was paying little attention to it. For one thing, her ankle hurt. Nina had warned her about removing the air cast and just going with an elastic brace, but there was no way she was going to walk around with that clunky thing on. Besides, it was just a minor sprain. She'd forgo heels and rely on flats and tennies for a few weeks and try not to overdo it. Well, that, and remember to take her pain meds, which she'd forgotten to do in the rush that morning.

The source of this story is Finestories

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