Saving Meghan(23)

“Carl!” Becky cried out, her voice drenched in panic. “Carl! Come quick!” He could be anywhere in the house, but Becky was not going to leave Meghan’s side to hunt him down. She sent Carl a text. Meghan slumped to the floor, and Becky went down with her.

“I feel wicked nauseous,” Meghan said in a weak and raspy voice. Becky checked her daughter over, looking in her eyes. A steely bolt of fear struck her hard. “Carl!” Becky cried out again, but by that point, he was already in the room.

“Call 911,” Becky heard Veronica say.

“What’s going on?” Carl’s tone was more annoyed than worried. He hated being interrupted, especially if he was doing something—either in his office, or working on his mountain bike down in his man cave.

“It’s Meghan. She’s sick.”

Carl knelt down beside his daughter. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Meghan went through her symptoms.

“Get an ambulance!” Veronica cried out.

Carl glanced at the computer, looking mildly miffed. “What were you doing when it happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Meghan said. “I was in my room, texting some friends.”

Like Becky, Meghan’s world was mostly confined to what she could do online.

Carl felt Meghan’s forehead. Becky knew her skin would feel cool to the touch, and she anticipated Carl would interpret that to mean no alarm was needed.

“Maybe just lie down for a little, see if it passes.”

Becky glared at Carl. “She needs a doctor.”

“Call 911,” Veronica repeated.

Carl rose, stormed over to the computer, and bent down to give Veronica a clear look at his angry face. “This isn’t your business, Veronica,” he said, his top lip curving into a snarl. With a click, he closed down the FaceTime application.

While Carl’s rudeness appalled Becky, she was not about to confront him. Meghan was in distress, and Veronica was right to consider an emergency response.

“Let’s call the ambulance,” Becky said with urgency.

Carl huffed. “She has a stomachache. I wouldn’t call this a medical emergency.”

Becky again touched Meghan’s forehead. Maybe she felt a bit clammy, but certainly not hot.

Carl knelt at Meghan’s side, his eyes brimming with sympathy. “Sweetheart, do you feel like you can go to your room, lie down for a bit?”

Becky’s eyes flared. How dare he!

Meghan’s nod was near imperceptible. “I think so.” She stood shakily, clutching at her stomach, blinking to clear her vision.

Becky went for her phone.

Holding on to Meghan’s arm, Carl noticed Becky with the phone to her ear. “Who are you calling?”

“I’m calling an ambulance if you’re not going to drive us to the damn hospital.”

Carl made a frustrated sound. “Good God, Becky, are you out of your mind?”

“Are you out of yours?” Becky snapped, eyeing Meghan, who swayed on her feet like a sapling bending in the wind. “Does she look right to you?”

Veronica had warned her this would happen, that his support would eventually waver, but she did not think it would happen so soon.

Their eyes met like it was a high noon showdown. Becky said nothing.

“Hang up,” Carl eventually said after a few uncomfortable beats of silence. “I’ll drive everyone to the hospital. At least I won’t have to listen to you fight with the insurance company about the ambulance ride.”

Relief washed through Becky as she took hold of her daughter’s frail arm. She could feel the bone against the pads of her fingers and wondered how much more Meghan could endure.

“Let’s get you downstairs, sweetheart. Can you drink water?”

Meghan nodded as though needing that drink desperately.

“Your face looks blurry,” Meghan said as she clutched at her stomach. She sounded on the verge of tears.

Becky glared at Carl as if to say How could you?

Carl fell into step behind Becky and Meghan as they descended the stairs. She knew it would be a silent car ride to the hospital, but this conversation was far from over.





CHAPTER 11


Luckily, Becky did not need a lot of background intelligence on Dr. Zach Fisher to convince him to come to the hospital when she called. He came without hesitation, and she and Carl were with Dr. Fisher in the curtained exam bay when he checked Meghan’s vitals, looked into her eyes, did everything that did not involve needles. (This time, Meghan would not allow it.) Everything appeared perfectly normal.

Meghan was still having severe stomach cramps, though those had lessened with a hefty dose of Bentyl. She continued to complain of blurred vision, but Dr. Fisher saw no evidence of swelling or irritation in the optic nerves.

Dr. Fisher was off consulting with another doctor, leaving Becky and Carl alone together and yet so far apart. They passed the time in the ER waiting room, both to give Meghan some privacy and because the chairs were more comfortable.

“She looked awful,” said Becky, as if needing to justify the alarm she had raised. But she saw it in Carl’s eyes, his anger at yet another unnecessary trip to the ER. Becky could read her husband’s dark look and sagging body language well enough to know she had pushed him over some invisible edge.