“Where is that man....” hissed Megan angrily as she glanced out the window into the empty driveway for what seemed like the thousandth time. Her husband, professional wrestler Heath Miller was late coming home from a house show that happened to be taking place just half an hour from where they lived in the outskirts of Chicago, Illinois. She figured since it was such a short drive, he’d be home early and they’d go out and do some Christmas shopping but at the rate it was taking him, it was doubtful if they’d even get there before the stores closed.
“Mommy, where’s Daddy?”
Megan sighed as she ruffled her approaching daughter’s strawberry blonde locks, “I don’t know sweetie.”
“Is he okay?” Chelsea asked nervously. For five years old, she was a very knowledgeable child. Definitely more attentive than her twin sister Autumn.
“I’m sure he’s fine. Go play with Autumn honey.” Megan soothed. Chelsea didn’t look convinced but ran off anyways.
That got Megan thinking...was he okay? She had called him repeatedly only to get his answering machine. Shaking her head briskly to calm down, she followed her daughter’s path into the living room and hoped he was nothing more than dilly dallying around the locker room.
An hour passed by and still no word from Heath leading to a slightly panicked Megan. She was trying her hardest to focus on the board game her and the girls were playing but found it almost impossible. Just as she picked her phone up again to dial his number, it blared loudly.
The screen flashed Heath causing her to almost drop her phone before hitting talk and saying ‘hello’ in a panic. The voice she heard however was not the one she was expecting.
“Hi, I was just wondering if you have any personal relation to Heath Miller?”
The voice was formal but Megan could make out shouting and sirens in the background.
“That’s my husband. Is...is something wrong? Did something happen to Heath?” she replied, her voice shaking audibly. Chelsea looked up at her mother with wide eyes while Autumn paid no attention and kept moving her plastic piece around the board.
“He’s been in a car accident ma’am. The injuries don’t seem to be life threatening but he definitely needs some medical treatment. He’s on his way to North Western Memorial. If you need the add-“
Megan cut the man on the other end off, “No I know where it is. Thank you.”
And with that she hit the end call button without even giving the person a chance to finish their statement. She was simply too frantic.
“Girls, I’m dropping you off at Grandma’s. Grab your coats and shoes, Grandma has toys at her house and she’ll get you some dinner.” Megan said, rushing around and grabbing her purse and coat.
Twenty minutes and the girls were dropped off, the car was parked and Megan was rushing up to the emergency room desk.
The clerk looked up at Megan’s panting form with a furrowed brow and a rude expression, “Ma’am if you’re here to see someone please fill out these for-“
“FUCK NO I’M NOT FILLING OUT FORMS HE’S BEEN IN AN ACCIDENT AND HE’S MY HUSBAND AND I NEED TO SEE-“
A burly man standing off to the side approached Megan and wrapped his large hand around her thin arm.
“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” Megan shrieked as she wriggled trying to get free.
With an entire waiting room watching and a very pissed off security staff trying to subdue the angry wife, a sympathetic looking nurse weaseled her way into the fray. She pushed the security guards away with all the strength she had in her tiny compact frame and grabbed Megan.
The unknown nurse flipped her stray bangs away from her face before sighing, “She’s my responsibility. I’ll take her.”
The security team along with the rude clerk all looked anything but pleased although they backed off into their previous posts.
Megan and the nurse hurried down the hall before stopping abruptly in front of a door labelled ‘203’.
“Now listen sweetheart, I’m not supposed to be doing this but I really couldn’t just stand by,” started the small nurse, “I filled out his entry papers. He has a broken collarbone, a few broken ribs, a broken arm and a mild concussion but he’ll be okay.”
Megan felt a little bit of comfort at the words but not enough to silence the worry bubbling up from her very core.
She took a breath and asked quietly, “Can I see him?”
“Yes but...he may or may not be conscious. They’ve got him on some pretty strong painkillers.” The nurse explained calmly.
A slow nod was all that was exchanged between the two before she opened the door virtually noiselessly with her eyes firmly closed, scared of what they would see.
She got the courage after a few moments to open her eyes and look and was not happy with what she saw.
Heath was bruised up worse than she had ever seen along with a cast and a sling around his right arm and some soft padding around his black and blue ribs.
She wanted to just break down and cry, her worry for her husband worse than ever but Megan managed to keep it together until she sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair that sat beside his bed.
“Oh Heath...” she whispered quietly as she reached out and took his motionless hand into hers.
Fifteen minutes passed before Heath even showed any sign that he was alive. His brow furrowed and he went to move before hissing in pain.
“Heath don’t move,” she soothed as she wiped her eyes frantically with her hand. Heath hated when she cried.
“I’m here honey; relax”
Her soft voice always worked wonders on the West Virginia native, his muscles relaxing slightly as he sunk back into the mountain of pillows stacked up behind him.
“You were in a really bad accident Heath. You’re hurt”
Heath cringed at that. He didn’t like knowing he was out of commission.
“Where are the girls?”
“With my mom. Look Heath you need to rela-“
“No. I want my girls.”
She had to resist from rolling her eyes. She knew Heath loved his kids and her with all of his heart but she wished he would think about himself every once in a while.
“I don’t think they should see you like this; especially not Chelsea. She was really worried about you, Heath.”
An almost awkward silence settled over the room before Heath reached out gently with his good hand and rubbed the calloused palm over Megan’s forearm, “I’m sorry.”
With a shake of the head, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his slightly stubbly cheek, “It’s not your fault. I’ll stay here with you tonight and we’ll give the girls a call. I know Chelsea would feel better hearing your voice.”
Heath couldn’t stop the smile, “She’s such a little worry wart. But she’s my worry wart.”
“That she is. I know Autumn cares too she’s just not so...”
“Observant” finished Megan with a chuckle.
“That’s the word,” Heath laughed.
Megan sighed and rubbed her sore eyes with her free palm, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
Heath grinned as he silently thanked god for the same thing.