Things I Want My Daughters to Know_ A Novel - Elizabeth Noble [143]
She’d been here with Cee Cee last summer. For three hours. Cee Cee had pushed an orange tic tac into her left ear. She wanted to see if it would come out the other side. Some boy at school had said it would, if she tipped her head over. It hadn’t. It had been a really hot day in May, the kind that surprised and overexcited people and resulted in a casualty waiting area full of sunstroke and barbecue-burn victims.
Mark was insistently tapping one toe against the linoleum floor. She put her hand on his knee, to stop him. He looked at her and smiled weakly.
The young casualty doctor who approached them from behind the ominous swinging doors was, according to the hospital badge pinned to her white coat, called Quincy York. A slender blonde, with piercing blue-green eyes behind flattering round glasses and a soft American accent, she smiled encouragingly at them as Mark jumped to his feet at the mention of Hannah’s name. “Don’t worry. Your daughter is okay.”
Relief flooded through him, and for a moment Mark felt weak on his feet.
“Sit down here,” she said, not unkindly, steering him toward a quieter bench at the side. “I’ll take you through to see her in a moment.”
Mark sat down next to her, his face white and pinched. Lisa was still holding his hand. The doctor looked at her questioningly. “I’m her sister,” she offered. Dr. York nodded.
She looked down at her notes. “Hannah is fine. The good news is that she was wearing a seat belt, which protected her a great deal from the impact. She’ll have some nasty bruises from where it restrained her, and she’s got a few small lacerations on her face, from the windshield, but nothing that will need stitching. We’ve steristripped a couple of the larger ones, but they should all heal without scarring.”
“Thank God.”
“She was lucky.”
“What about the driver?”
“His injuries were more serious, but not life-threatening. His parents are here with him….”
“His injuries?”
Dr. York was confused by the question and looked down again. “Yes. Nathan Spring. The driver of the car.”
“She said she was out with her girlfriends….” His voice trailed off. Nathan Spring. The boy from the party.
“I see.” She clearly did. She paused before speaking again. “Look. I don’t know what happened earlier in the evening. But Hannah has had a drink or two, Mr. Forbes. I don’t suppose there’s anything particularly unusual about that, although she is below the legal drinking age, as you know. She wouldn’t be the first teenager we’ve seen here on a Saturday night who’s been drinking when she shouldn’t have been. She isn’t ‘drunk.’ We were all teenagers once. The problem was that she got into a car with someone who’d also been drinking. The driver had a substantially higher blood alcohol level. It would have been pretty obvious that he shouldn’t have been driving.”
“Oh my God.” Mark couldn’t believe it. He rubbed his jaw. Hannah? “Stupid girl.”
Dr. York put her hand on Mark’s forearm. “Listen: I understand your reaction. But they’ve both had a lucky escape. It could have been a lot worse. I’ve spoken to Hannah. She seems like a sweet kid. She was obviously scared stiff. I think she realizes fully what has happened. My guess is she’s given herself enough of a fright to make sure she never does anything like that again.” She smiled at him kindly. “Take her home. Let her rest. Talk to her.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She stood up and spread her arm toward the ward. “Let’s go and find her.”
HANNAH WAS SITTING UP ON THE HIGH HOSPITAL BED, BEHIND the green curtain. Dr. York excused herself, saying she’d be back with Hannah’s discharge sheet in a moment or two, and pulled the curtain closed so that the three of them were alone. Hannah was pale and disheveled. She’d obviously been crying. She had cuts and grazes on her cheeks, some held together with small white strips, and an angry blue-black bruise on her collarbone, exposed by the neckline of her shirt. The big high bed made her look like a small, frightened child. She didn’t say anything, but her