Page 26 of Abiding Blood

Finally, around 2 p.m., my dad called.

“Hey. Sorry we didn’t call you sooner,” he said.

At the sound of my father’s voice, relief washed through me. “It’s no problem. Where are you guys at?”

“Well, we were on our way when we had a minor fender bender. It’s okay; no one was seriously hurt, but your mom hit her head, so we have to stop by the hospital to get it checked out. We are on our way there now, but traffic is terrible.”

“No, Dad, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, that’s where the sickest people are, right? If it’s not too bad, you could just come straight here.” I couldn’t understand why they’d go anywhere near a hospital if they had the option. They were usually the ones who were extra paranoid about things like that.

“I understand,” my dad said, and I could hear the strain in his voice. “It’s just that your mom really needs to be seen. We’ll pull into the parking lot and see if we can get someone to come out to the car. That should be reasonably safe.”

There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew it had to be worse than my dad was admitting.

“She’s going to be okay, right, Dad?”

“Don’t worry, Julian. I’m sure she’ll be fine. We’re almost at the hospital. It’s all stop-and-go between here and there, but we should arrive soon. I’ll call you when we know more. Okay?”

Reluctantly, I agreed and hung up. I clutched my phone for the rest of the day, waiting. When it rang around 10 p.m., I scrambled to answer. It was a video call from my dad.

When the call connected, my father’s face filled the small screen. He was wearing a mask, but the small portion of his face that was visible looked tight with worry. I could tell from the background that he was somewhere in a hospital.

I let out a sigh. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, son. Your mother has been admitted. They haven’t been able to get her in for the tests she needs yet, but they said she shouldn’t leave.” My father’s voice sounded strange through the mask, making it all feel even more surreal. “They don’t have any rooms available, though, so we are camped out in a hallway on the maternity ward. We were both tested for the flu and brought up here when the tests came back clean. It’s as safe as they can reasonably make it.” He let out a sigh of his own.

“Can I talk to Mom? How’s she doing?”

My father’s eyes tightened. “She’s sleeping at the moment. I can update you tomorrow. It’s been a long day for her.”

“I bet. For both of you,” I said.

“Hey, Julian, I have to go. I think the doctors are here to check on your mom. I’ll send you a text.”

“Okay, I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too,” my father said before hanging up.

I stared at the blank screen where my father’s face had just been. That morning, I’d been so excited to see them both. I’d been looking forward to reuniting as a family and not being alone anymore. Now I was filled with worry and guilt. I knew my parents probably would have stayed home if I hadn’t been at the cabin. I knew they’d wanted to be with me, but I should have told them to stay put. I’d driven the same route just days earlier and knew how crazy the roads were.

I thought about reaching out to Emily, but I couldn’t send the text. What could she do about it? It would only worry her about me, and she didn’t need that. I went to bed that night, praying my dad would have good news the next morning, or that I’d wake up to find it had all been a dream.

The next day came, but it hadn’t been a dream, and my dad had no good news. I spoke to him late in the morning, and nothing had changed. The doctors were doing their best, but the hospital was overwhelmed with flu patients. My dad still shied away when I asked to talk to my mom. A lump formed in my throat. My dad wasn’t telling me everything. I considered pressing for more information, but in the end, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

On the third day after the accident, my dad rang again. This time, it wasn’t a video call.

“Hey, do you have any news?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light and optimistic, despite my worry.

“Hey,” my dad said, but even muffled, his voice sounded off.

“Is it Mom? What happened?” I asked bluntly.

“She has a fever. We’re waiting for someone to come and give her a flu test.”

“Oh, Dad. What can I do?”

“Nothing for now. I’ll call back later.” He sounded incredibly tired. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard him sound so exhausted.

“Alright, Dad. Stay safe.”