Crazy Nights (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3) (17 page)

“
E
vie
,” Jessica scolded. “I’ve been calling you for three days.”

“I know,” Evie apologized. “I was just trying to take some time before talking about all of it. I didn’t want to put you in a weird position.”

“Have you not heard?” Jessica asked in that kind of voice that made the hair on the back of Evie’s neck stand up.

“Heard what?” Evie rasped out nervously.

“Emmitt was in an accident. He’s being flown back from Botswana.” Jessica might as well have been speaking another language. Evie could hardly register any of it.

“Botswana? Africa? Why was Emmitt in Africa?”

“He took his father there. He was undergoing treatment and trying to keep him from gambling. As far as I know things were going well. They were even getting along okay. But there was a jeep accident.”

“Is he all right?” Evie asked, bracing herself against the closest light pole on her walk home.

“He needs surgery on his leg, and they have some concerns about his head injury. But the family agreed he would get the best care here in Boston. We’re all here together now. Libby and James just arrived.”

“Here in Boston? You’re here?”

“Yes, why? Are you too? Did you never leave? When I heard Emmitt went to Africa without you I assumed you went back home to Nebraska.”

“I’m in Boston,” Evie explained frantically. The idea that Emmitt was somewhere overhead right now, trying to get safely back to a hospital here, made her knees weak. “When will he get here? Where are they taking him?”

“I’m not positive yet,” Jessica said as she broke away to talk to someone else in the room with her. “Just come meet us. I’ll send a car for you if you tell me where you are.”

“I’m just leaving work,” she said, looking up at the street signs around her. “I was walking home. There’s a coffee shop, Brews Cruise. I can wait there.”

“All right, I’ll have Mathew send a car for you now. Hang tight.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Evie said as she stopped in her tracks and thought about the last conversation she and Emmitt had. He’d gone off to Africa and not said a word to her again. Now when he was hurt, struggling, was it really fair to just show up?

“Evie, you’re coming. I’ve learned enough about these Kalling men by now to know you need to be there when he lands. They are experts at watching things fall apart; they need people willing to put it back together for them. They think they’re the strong ones, but it’s us. It’s you.”

“I don’t feel strong. Every time I think of him, I feel pretty weak. I never really knew where I stood with him until he finally said he loved me. Then a few hours later it was over. That has to be a record. Hell, it has to be a sign. It’s not supposed to be that hard.”

“It’s supposed to be exactly that hard. You’re supposed to think about them so much they can feel it even when you’re apart. You find little pieces of them in your life, in everything you do, in every song you hear. All of that is happening when this is over. Imagine how great it’ll be when you fix it.”

“Maybe you should give him this speech.” Evie sighed. “There might not be little pieces of me in everything he’s been doing.”

“The car is on its way. When they called Mathew to tell him about the accident the medics asked who Evie was. Apparently Emmitt was begging for them to find you. You are all he wanted. He watched this fall apart, but he wants your help to put it back together. When the car pulls up, get in.”

“
O
h no
,” Evie said as she stepped into the private waiting room of the hospital and then turned quickly around and left. Mathew was on her heels, following her down the hallway.

“Where are you going? We should be hearing something about Emmitt soon. He’s just arrived and is being assessed.”

“I need to go change. I didn’t know your mother was here already.” She pointed to her red shirt and watched his face tighten.

“You know about that?” he asked, his eyes turning up toward the ceiling. “I didn’t realize you and Emmitt had gotten as close as you had. I’ve never known my brother to bring a woman home to meet my mother before.”

“It was just weird circumstances that brought me to your mom’s house, nothing more.” Evie kneeled down and started digging through her large purse. “I have a sweater in here. It’s blue.”

“Trust me, Evie, if Emmitt didn’t want you to meet my mother there would be no way he’d allow it to happen. He must really trust you. My mother’s condition is fragile and usually harshly judged by people.”

“Unfortunately whatever caused him to take me there wasn’t enough to keep us together,” Evie murmured as she slipped the sweater over her head. “I hope he’s all right,” she squeaked out before the tears came.

“Me too,” Mathew admitted, looking thoroughly uncomfortable by her show of emotion. She quickly wiped her tears away and tried to gather herself to hear Mathew’s response. “The doctor assured me the moment he had an assessment of Emmitt’s condition he’d be down to see us. This is one of the top hospitals in the country, and he’s head of neurosurgery.”

“What can I do?” Evie asked, fidgeting in what felt like utter uselessness.

“Come do what the rest of us are doing,” Mathew said, gesturing toward the private and sterile looking waiting room.

“What’s that?”

“Waiting, worrying, and feeling like we should be doing more.”

“Sounds right,” she said in a breathy laugh.

As they walked in, Evie took stock of all the bloodshot worried eyes, reminding her of the serious situation. The last month had been full of things Evie dreamed of saying to Emmitt, and the idea that something might keep her from it made her stomach churn with anxiety.

“Does anyone need anything?” Libby asked, always quick to accommodate people in need. “I can go get coffee.”

“That would be nice,” James said, rising from the chair he was in and grabbing his wallet.

“I’ll help,” Evie offered but was stopped short by Emmitt’s mother.

“He wants you here, dear. You’re all he’s been asking for. We have no idea how he’s doing. Now that he’s back and getting a full workup, we might find this to be more serious. The doctor told us head injuries are very unique. The variables are endless.” Her hand seemed permanently clutched over her heart in concern. “I’m rambling, but my point is he was asking for you. I want my boy to have what he wants when he wakes up. He wants you.”

Evie searched for words and came up empty. Every eye in the room was on her now, and she felt her cheeks burning with anxiety.

“Am I interrupting?” a tall dark skinned man with curly white hair asked as he stepped into the room. Libby and James stopped taking the coffee order and everyone fell deathly quiet. For once Evie felt she understood the depth of that phrase. Deathly quiet.

“Dr. Myers,” Mathew said, shooting forward and extending his hand for a firm shake. “How’s my brother?”

“The flight took a toll on him,” Dr. Myers said, launching right into the details, skipping any formalities. “It was still the right choice to bring him back here. We have far more medical options, but that flight was difficult. In short Emmitt suffered a traumatic brain injury. They performed a craniotomy on sight in Botswana and it saved his life. But it’s the type of procedure that needs consistent care and monitoring. We can provide that.”

“What exactly is it?” Jessica asked timidly. “The craniotomy.”

“A flap of the skull is removed to take pressure off the brain so it can expand as needed. Here it’s routinely used, but in Botswana it was far more emergent and risky. It’s a great sign that he survived it.”

At the sound of the word skull and brain Emmitt’s mother lost her footing and gave in to the weight that seemed to be thundering down on her shoulders. She fell into James’s arms and sobbed. “His brain?” she cried. “It’s bleeding?”

“It is, but I intend to do surgery to repair it. The bleed is fairly small. The swelling has stopped, and some doctors would say we should watch it, hope it corrects itself. But my experience tells me we are better off not playing the wait-and-see game. His long-term outcome could be significantly improved if we remove the hematomas that remain.”

“What exactly is the long-term outlook,” Mathew asked, a shake in his voice he tried unsuccessfully to cover. “I thought he was conscious, talking even.”

“Immediately after the incident he was. That was prior to the bleeding and pressure in his skull. I will say the doctors in Botswana were incredibly proactive. They ensured he was given ample oxygen, and preforming the craniotomy absolutely saved his life as I mentioned. But I can’t pinpoint what functions he has possibly lost. Head injuries are moving targets. Recoveries vary from patient to patient even when their injuries seem similar.”

Evie tried to overlook the cold and matter-of-fact tone the doctor used to explain Emmitt’s condition.

“Libby, James, would you take my mother downstairs for a break? Maybe something to eat?” Mathew stuffed his hand into his pocket and turned halfway around to avoid watching his shaky mother being led from the room.

When they were gone he continued his questions. “Dr. Myers, I’d like to hear more about the possible prognosis my brother is facing. Anyone else who wants to clear out can, but I need to hear it.” Harlan, who’d been completely silent as she leaned like a ragdoll against the wall, finally spoke.

“Me too,” she edged out. “I want to know, too.”

“There’s a wide range,” Dr. Myers reiterated as he settled in one of the plush chairs in the corner of the room and crossed his legs. “The gravity of lasting effects and deficiencies depend upon the severity of the injury, the location in the brain, and the age and general health of the patient. Emmitt is healthy and fit, that works in his favor. But it’s important to know some common disabilities include problems with cognition, which is thinking, memory, and reasoning. Other issues center around sensory processing such as sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell. I’ve had many cases where communication, like expression and comprehension were compromised. Some less common but very impactful deficiencies can come in the form of behavior or mental health issues like depression, anxiety, personality changes, aggression, acting out, and social inappropriateness.”

“We may not be able to tell the difference if that’s the case,” Mathew joked, and they all reluctantly chuckled. “He was always fairly inappropriate.”

The doctor broke the small moment of levity in half, like an axe slicing through old brittle wood. “More serious head injuries can result in an unresponsive state or what we call a PVS, a persistent vegetative state.”

“There’s a chance he won’t wake up?” Evie asked, her chest heaving with fear as she held her breath and waited for the answer.

“With head injuries and brain surgery that is always a risk. I’m not in the market of making promises on the outcome. But what I can assure you is, while he is on my table and under my care, I will treat him as if he were my own son.” The doctor rose after a moment as stunned silence seemed to fill the room. “We’ll take him to surgery once the consent forms are signed. I’ll have someone keep you posted throughout.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Mathew finally choked out when Dr. Myers was halfway out of the room. They all sat quietly for what felt like an eternity as the reality of Emmitt’s prognoses set in. What if he never woke up? What if he woke up but couldn’t see or hear? What if he was plagued the rest of his life with horrific challenges and limitation?

“He’d hate this,” Harlan said softly, shattering the quiet. “Of all the people I’ve ever met I can’t think of anyone who would hate this more than Emmitt. If he isn’t himself when he wakes up, he won’t want to live.”

“If he wakes up,” Mathew corrected, to which Jessica winced and hushed him before trying to force some optimism into the room.

“He’ll wake up, and whatever he has to deal with, he’ll have a lot of people to help him.”

“Dad,” Harlan said, shaking her head at the heavy thought. Her long brown hair, falling like ropes by her sad face.

“What about him?” Mathew asked with a nip in his voice.

“We should call him and update him. He’ll be worried.”

“No.” Mathew stressed. “He’s the reason Emmitt was out there in the first place. If it weren’t for him—”

Evie loudly cut into his words. “No, I am. I’m the reason he had to take his father to the other side of the world. I’m the reason he was in Africa. You don’t know the whole story.”

“I do,” Mathew corrected. “So does Harlan. Emmitt told us exactly what happened, and we told him he was an idiot for sending you away. You did something incredibly brave that night.”

“And it saved my father,” Harlan interjected. “Even though he didn’t seem worth saving, please know that I’m grateful. Mathew and Emmitt have their own opinions of him, and I understand that. I just wanted a chance to form my own. You gave me that possibility. So please don’t blame any of this on yourself.”

“She’s right,” Mathew agreed. “Well, half right. I don’t agree with her feelings toward my father, but I am glad you were there. And that you acted the way you did.”

“He deserves an update,” Harlan said again. “They were getting along. Things were going all right between them. The last time I talked to Emmitt he actually sounded positive.”

Mathew wouldn’t look at Harlan head on. He kept his back to her as he thought it over. “I talked to him last week and he said Dad was actually doing better on the resort. They’d both started venturing out more, seeing the Chobe River and all the wildlife. He sounded upbeat, which for Emmitt was really saying something.”

“Was he happy?” Evie asked, never in her life so conflicted by what she might hear. A yes would give her peace, knowing that he’d found some kind of common ground and hope with his father, but it would also tell her he hadn’t been hurting nearly as much as she had over being apart. The worry must have read on her face as Harlan stepped in with an answer.

“He was doing it for you,” she offered with a sweet smile. “Usually my brother likes to prove people wrong. We joke that his catch phrase was
I told you so.
But some of the things you said stuck with him. He said the quiet out there gave him lots of time to think.”

“He’ll be fine,” Mathew said when both women seemed to choke on the reality of the situation. The idea of not having Emmitt around to tease or talk to. “Emmitt is a stubborn son of a bitch. If he has more to give us hell about, there’s no way he’s going to give up. If he has any say in this at all, we’ll be telling him to shut up before we know it.”