Page 65 of Single Malt
“I’m here to pick up my sister. She was in a hang-gliding accident earlier tonight.”
He grinned. “I know who you’re talking about.”
“She does leave an impression,” I said as I pulled out my wallet and removed my ID. “I’m Brody McCrae.”
He looked at it and then at me. “She’s married?”
I shook my head. “Step-sister, technically.”
“You can either wait out here for her to be discharged, or I can send someone back to confirm your identity so that you can go back to get her.” He gave me a practiced apologetic look. “It’s one of our safety protocols to prevent abusers from being able to get to their victims. You’d be surprised at how many more people are willing to press charges when they know they’re safe.”
“Have her confirm my identity,” I said, impressed with the program. “In case she needs me to help her out.”
He nodded and called over one of the orderlies. He gave her my ID and told her where to find Paris.
“I have to ask, is that policy new? I’ve just never heard of it anywhere else,” I said. “It makes a lot of sense, but I’m sure it takes some extra staff, which means budgeting would’ve been an issue.”
“You have no idea.” He ran a hand down his face. “It took two years to finally get it approved, and it only happened because the person heading it up managed to get a donation to cover the pilot program.”
“Would it be possible for me to leave you a card to give to the person running the program?” I took out my wallet again and retrieved a business card this time. It wasn’t mine, though. “My parents are always looking for new programs to support, and I think they’d love this one.”
He looked surprised but took it. When he read it, his eyebrows shot up. “The Grace Foundation?”
It wasn’t surprising that he’d clearly knew the name. My parents’ foundation was pretty well known on the West Coast.
The orderly came back just then and handed me my ID as she spoke to the clerk. “She says he’s her brother.”
“Go ahead and take him back,” the clerk said before looking at me. “I’ll make sure the card gets to the right place.”
I thanked him and then followed the orderly through the doors and into the main ER area. I heard Paris before I saw her, and the sound of her laughter eased the last bit of a knot from my stomach.
Even though she’d already told me that she was fine and only had a dislocated shoulder, I needed to see her for myself before I’d completely believe her. I wouldn’t have put it past her to lie about the severity of her injury just so I would come and not call our parents. It’s what I might’ve done in her situation. But if she was well enough to laugh, she’d be all right.
“Maybe next time you decide to do something crazy, you’ll make sure you have a better partner.” I threw up my hands as I approached the bed. “No more wimps.”
Paris rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I picked a real dud this time.”
The doctor turned to me. “You’re the brother?”
“I am.”
“I’m sending enough painkillers with her to get her through until she can get to a pharmacy tomorrow. She promised to make an appointment with her regular physician for follow-up.” The doctor glanced at Paris and then looked back at me. “And I’m guessing she’ll fill you in on anything else you need to know.”
“I will.” Paris grinned, but someone who knew her as well as I did could see that it didn’t quite show in her eyes. Her skin was paler than normal, and her mouth had a pinched look at the corners.
“Well, I’ve got everything I need from you, so you can head out now that your ride’s here. Have a good night.” The doctor nodded at both of us and left.
“Thanks for coming,” Paris said as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She looked tired, but okay, at least. “Hope I didn’t ruin big Valentine’s Day plans.”
The feel of being in Freedom’s body. The sounds she made. The way her face had looked when she came.
I shook my head. “You know me. I don’t do Valentine’s Day.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’ll follow your example next year.” She stood up and swayed on her feet.
I put out a hand but didn’t touch her yet. She caught herself, and I dropped my hand to my side. My other sisters might’ve at least let me steady them, but Paris had always been headstrong, insisting on trying it herself before acknowledging that she might actually need assistance.
Yet another thing we had in common.