Lifting my head a fraction, I peek up through spiked lashes and come face-to-face with a young woman. “I don’t know what to say.” Flopping down next to me, she leans her head against the wall. “He sounds like one lucky man to have you.”
Clearing my throat, I straighten my legs to mimic her position. I can’t even imagine how horrible I look. My eyes feel puffy and swollen, and I’m sure they’re about as red as can be. My make-up from two days ago is long gone and my hair is nothing short of a rat’s nest, but the woman is watching me with open curiosity and unbridled compassion. And right now, that’s something I could use a little bit of. “I’m the lucky one,” I tell her. “He’s my world and I’d do anything for him.”
“And by him, you’re referring to someone over there, I assume.” She points her hand toward the ICU and I nod. “I see. I’m guessing that you got here after visiting hours.” I nod again. “When was the last time you’ve seen—?”
“Devin,” I answer with a watery smile. “His name is Sergeant Devin Clay, and I haven’t seen him in forty-three days, eighteen hours and”—I glance down at my watch—“thirty-three minutes.”
“But who’s counting?” She laughs and pushes up from the floor. I notice for the first time that she’s wearing a pair of blue surgical scrubs much like the older woman from earlier. She holds out her hand and I stare at it like it’s a foreign object. “Would you like to go see Devin?”
I scramble up off the floor. “You can do that?” I ask, pressing a hand to her arm.
“I can,” she says, nodding. “Just as soon as the shifts change and the day shift leaves, I’ll bring you back.”
“How?” I breathe. “Why can you let me in, but she couldn’t?” I ask, waving my hand toward the ICU. I’m a nurse; I should know this answer. But right now, my mind is focused on one thing and one thing only.
“Was the nurse you talked to older?” I nod and she smiles. “Some of the older ones are set in their ways. They don’t like to bend the rules; they like to stand firmly next to them. Lucky for you, the much cooler, much younger group of nurses run the night shift, and we prefer to break the rules rather than follow them.” She winks, and without thinking, I wrap my arms around her shoulders, dragging her in for a hug.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” Pulling away, she guides me toward a waiting room. “Have a seat in here and I’ll come and get you in a bit.”
“Katie!” I blurt, catching her attention after she turns to walk away. She cocks her head to the side, looking at me curiously. “My name is Katie.”
A friendly smile slides across her face. “Jennifer.”
“Thank you, Jennifer.” I can’t infuse enough gratitude into those three words, but hopefully she knows just how appreciative I am. Nodding once, she turns away.
Walking into the waiting room, I notice a young woman asleep on one of the couches. Two little girls are sitting on the floor with a box of crayons and a coloring book, and when I sit down in one of the chairs, they both look up.
“Hi.” The youngest one smiles at me and I can’t help but smile back.
“Hi.”
“Is your fadder here too?” The question is so innocent, and if my heart wasn’t already broken, it would’ve just now.
“No,” I answer, shaking my head.
“Your mudder?”
“No.” I laugh, shaking my head again. “My boyfriend.” My best friend. The love of my life. The man I want to marry. The f—
“Ah!” The pint-sized cherub squeals, slapping a hand over her mouth. “You have a boyfwend?” she whispers. I nod with a smirk and she lowers her hand. “Daddy says no boyfwends until I’m firty.”
“Well, your daddy sounds very smart. I’m almost thirty, so I think I’m good.”
“Want me to pway wif you?” I cock my head to the side, trying to determine if she said ‘play’ or ‘pray.’ “My Nana says I hafta pway awot. She says that will help bwing Daddy back. I will pway wif you, if you want.”
“Stop it, Sally.” The older girl slaps Sally’s arm, but Sally just smiles.
“Dis is Sawah.”
“Hi, Sarah.” I offer a small wave at the young girl. “My name is Katie.”
Sally stands up and walks around the table, not stopping until she’s standing in front of me. “I wike dat name. I havva fwend named Katie.”
“You do?”
Her little head bobs excitedly.
“Knock, knock.” I spin around at the familiar voice and see Jennifer standing in the doorway. “Ready?”
“Yes!” Turning toward Sally, I stick out my hand, thankful that this precious little girl could momentarily distract me. Sally slips her tiny hand in mine and shakes it. “It was so nice meeting you. I’m going to say some extra-special prayers for your Daddy.”
“Fank you,” she says, and her smile brightens the room. But the second I move into the hallway and fall into step behind Jennifer, that brightness fades.
After she slides her badge, the door clicks and she pulls it open, I follow her into the dimly lit ICU. She asks, “Have you been updated on Sergeant Clay’s status?”
“No. Actually, I don’t know much at all.” We pass by the nurse’s station and then stop in front of room two. He’s in there. My chest tightens and I swallow hard. “I got the call about the explosion. I was told what city and hospital he was being transported to and that his condition was labeled as critical. That’s all I know.”
Jennifer nods her head slowly. “Dr. Karesh has been taking care of Sergeant Clay, and he’ll be in tomorrow morning around ten. If you stop by then, he’ll be able to go into more detail about your boyfriend’s injuries and condition.”
“I’ll be here.”
“I figured you would be. Just remember that when we switch shifts you may have to step out.” She pats my arm and I nod as I turn away. Little does she know that I’m not going anywhere, but there’s no sense in starting an argument because right now I have something much more important to tend to. Gripping the knob, I crack open the door and the cacophony of sounds float through the air. How many machines is he hooked up to? Is he swollen and bruised? Will I recognize him? “Are you okay, Katie?” Jennifer asks.
Pinching my lips together, I nod jerkily and step into the room.
The sight in front of me stops me dead in my tracks. Lifting a trembling hand to my mouth, I suck in a sharp breath.
Oh my God.
A stabbing pain rips through my chest. “Devin,” I breathe, rushing toward him. “Oh, God.” Tears race hot down my face and I scoop his cold hand up in mine, kissing it several times before cradling it against my chest. He’s always seemed larger than life, but today, tucked beneath the crisp white sheet, Devin looks so incredibly fragile. I’m reminded in the worst possible way that my hero … my soldier … is human. Squeezing my eyes shut, I send up a silent prayer.
Please, God, please let him pull through this.
Swallowing hard, I peel my eyes open and look at Devin. My Devin. Clear plastic tubing disappears between his lips, undoubtedly leading to his trachea, and my eyes drift toward the ventilator sitting next to his bed.
He’s not breathing on his own.
Thick, white gauze is wrapped around his head. Gashes and bruises mar his gorgeous face. An IV is attached to his right hand that leads to three different bags of clear fluid hanging from an IV pole at the head of his bed. He has a blood pressure cuff secured around his left arm and electrodes are visible under the neck of his gown. My eyes drift to the heart monitor. A steady beep resonates throughout the room, infusing me with hope.
His heart is still beating.
My gaze sweeps over the room, and I spot a small canvas bag tucked against the wall in the corner as though it was tossed aside and forgotten about. Without thinking, I gently rest Devin’s hand on the bed and walk across the small space. Dropping to my knees, I pick up the bag and reach inside, pulling out a dark green t-shirt—at least that’s what I think it is. The fabric is tattered and … is that blood? A shudder racks my body and I set it aside.