Page 19 of Valor
Because we’re a team.
Chapter Nine
Olivia
“Wasn’tthat damn doctor supposed to be here three hours ago?”
“Two,” I say with a yawn. “But whose counting?”
Ben growls and throws his head back on the hospital bed like a restless child. “I should take out these monitors. No one’s been in here to check on me in hours anyway, what does it matter? I could be dead by now for all they’d know.”
I put a hand over his before he can take out his IVs and the leads to the heart monitor. “You’re going to have to put them back in when they come to check on you again. Let’s give them another hour and if no one comes by, then you can give every nurse and doctor hell, but until then, no ripping out IVs.”
“No promises.”
I stifle my giggle. The “getaway” feeling had lasted until the third nurse came in to check his vitals and shove pills down his throat. Ben is an understanding man—until you interrupt his sleep. I used to ask him how he managed to work throughout the night when he was on a mission and the only explanation I got was, “That’s different,” which didn’t explain a thing to me.
And he said women didn’t make a lick of sense.
I didn’t mind. The kids don’t often let us go a full night without waking one or both of us up. At least this time the focus wasn’t on me to do anything. I just had to comfort Ben back to sleep after each visit, and even then I got to hold him uninterrupted. Even the monitors didn’t bother me. The beeps and blips were as reassuring as the consistent thud of his heart underneath my cheek.
He was more exhausted than he let on—or more drugged up—because he slept through most of the night. I went in and out because of the nurses, the cramped feeling of the bed, and the whir of the machines, but it was all right. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep much anyway. Even when one of those things didn’t wake me up, I was jerked awake by fear to make sure he was still there.
Dawn finally came and with it a sense of relief. His latest nurse gave him the all clear. Then, she brought breakfast. Nothing too special, a plate of eggs, sausage, toast, coffee, and orange juice, but it was like heaven. I made Ben eat most of it. He grumbled about not being hungry, but he wolfed down the majority and guzzled the coffee. I cleaned up the rest of the eggs and sausage he didn’t want. When he was finished, one of the nurses came and disconnected him from the monitors.
Then began the waiting, which is probably one of Ben’s less than attractive traits. Being that he’s less than patient when it comes to everyone else.
The ER moves at a glacial pace discharging patients, and I distract him with games on my phone and conversations with the kids about when we’ll be home. We’re both exhausted, which makes him a little grouchy.
“I should go talk to them,” he says for the third time. “What’s taking them so long?”
“Why don’t we get out and walk around some? Maybe by the time we get back, the doctor will be down to officially discharge you, and then we can go home? If nothing else it’ll make the time go faster than sitting in this room.”
He grumbles, but gets to his feet anyway. He’d already changed into the clothes he was wearing the day before. My eyes catch on the drops of blood dotting his collar before I shake my head and smile brightly at him.He’s okay, I remind myself.
I take his hand and he follows behind me. The nurses at the nurses’ station don’t even look up as we walk by and out of the ER to the admissions desk area. It’s still full of patients waiting to be seen. We skirt around them and find an empty hallway.
For a while we just walk aimlessly through the hospital and it seems to help calm him down. He’s the sort of guy who always needs to keep moving, so it was no wonder he was going stir crazy in that small hospital room. Eventually, we land in the mother / baby wing.
My heart stumbles and I look to Ben, who’s staring at a baby in a basket being wheeled along with its mother to a recovery room. He’s always been a kid person, which I never would have pegged him to be when we were growing up. He’d taken to being a dad like it was what he was meant to be.
Swallowing hard, I glance at my phone. We’d been gone nearly half an hour. “We should probably get back,” I say.
“Yeah, they probably showed up the second we left. I swear if we have to wait another hour, I’m gonna break out of here. Just you watch,” he says, making me smile.
Grumpy Ben is so damn cute.
Thankfully, the doctor is waiting when we arrive at his hospital room.
“About damn time,” Ben says.
“Thank you for coming,” I say, ignoring Ben.
“Of course. Well, it looks like the concussion won’t have any lasting effects, based on our observations. Provided he doesn’t show any additional symptoms over the next few days, I don’t believe there will be any reason to keep him any longer.” He goes over the signs to look out for and tells Ben to take it easy.
“Whatever you say, Doc,” Ben answers, which is man code for he’ll do whatever he damn well pleases.
They have us sign some papers at the nurses’ station and hand us a file for our records. Minutes later, I’m leading Ben to our car.