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The gray-haired receptionist smiled at me. “Can I help you?”

I took a shaky breath. “I hope so. My husband was brought in earlier. Jimmy Torres? I’d like to be with him, please.”

“Sure. Let me look him up.” He hummed and looked back at me. “Do you have any identification? I have to verify you’re family.”

I fumbled with my wallet. I hadn’t changed my name, and I had no identification matching his last name. Did I have anything to prove we were married? I hadn’t even changed my driver’s license address yet, and neither of us wore rings. Staring at my bare finger, it suddenly struck me as important. To the outside world, we might not be married at all.

The double doors whooshed open as Mark and Lisa made their way toward me. Mark walked up next to me in his Tacoma fire uniform, and the receptionist relaxed. “She’s the wife, and she’s with you?”

Mark nodded, and the receptionist said, “Okay then, Mr. Torres is in emergency surgery. He hasn’t been assigned a room yet, but you can go to the surgical waiting room. He’s patient 123 today. Give me your wrist, and I’ll give you an ID band for his patient number.”

My stomach dropped. Emergency surgery sounded ominous. I turned to Mark. “I thought you said he was okay?”

Was my voice normally that shrill? Lisa grabbed my hand and squeezed.

“I’m sure Mark is sharing everything he knows, Melena. Let’s go to the waiting room and we can find out more.”

I trailed like a meek lamb through the halls, blindly following Lisa, Mark, and the signs until we reached the right room.

I laughed humorlessly. Jimmy had waited here only two days ago. Now it was me. I hated it. I stared up at the monitor, where ‘In surgery’ displayed for patient 123. We’d signed in with the volunteer at the desk and asked for an update when the doctor was available, but the gray-haired woman had said it would probably be awhile. “They held the OR schedule for him and rescheduled elective surgeries to make room.”

“Do you have any more news about his condition?” Mark asked.

The older woman shook her head. “Our information is limited. I have him listed in serious condition, undergoing surgery for a leg fracture and undetermined other internal injuries. I’ll be sure to have the surgeon come speak with you when she finishes, but it looks like it will be a while.”

We settled in chairs around a table and waited quietly. Time lost all meaning for me as I stared at the wood grain pattern stamped into the table. I tried to urge Mark and Lisa to go home, but neither wanted to leave me alone. Lisa’s words sparked a new thought. “Andi!” I looked at Mark. “Did you call her?”

Mark scrubbed a hand over his balding head. “No, I’m sorry. I should have. My first thought was for you. Do you have her number?”

I nodded and started navigating through my phone to her contact, my fingers shaking. I finally found the right entry and pressed the button. She picked up immediately. “Melena? Is everything okay?”

She knew. Of course, she knew. I didn’t call her up for casual chats. We weren’t friends. I cleared my throat. “It’s Jimmy,” I whispered. “He was in a car accident at work. He’s in surgery.”

“Where?” she asked.

“Tacoma General.”

“How bad?”

“I don’t really know. He’s in surgery now and they’ve listed him in serious condition. Mark thought broken bones, maybe a concussion.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said, her voice husky.

“Thanks, Andi.” I couldn’t control the waver in my voice.

“Hang in there, Melena. Don’t worry, Jimmy’s too hardheaded to die easily.”

She said the ‘d’ word. I couldn’t think about it, much less say it. Andi sounded confident enough for both of us, but the edge in her voice hinted at blind bravado, not true belief.

Mark slid an arm across my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it earlier. My focus was on getting you here. I knew he’d want you when he wakes.”

I nodded before meeting Mark’s tired gaze. “I’m glad.”

We took turns pacing and drinking bad coffee. I was only part way through my first bitter cup when Andi bustled in. She’d clearly come straight from work and was dressed in black slacks and a sweater, her dark curls caught back in a loose bun. She searched the room before making a beeline for me.

“Melena. Any news?”

I shook my head. Nothing. We had checked with the volunteer every few minutes. I’m sure she was getting annoyed, but I couldn’t help myself. Every time I checked, I was sure that time she’d have more information. Andi tried her hand at wheedling with the volunteer, but the older woman couldn’t give information she didn’t have.