Gina Ardito

Craig raced into the emergency room, his heart pounding a frantic tattoo against his chest. He came to a halt at the reception desk and grabbed the edge as if to keep from falling. "I'm Craig Hartmann. My son, Scott, came in here a little while ago?"

The nurse behind the desk scanned her computer. "He's in Exam Room Five, through that door, down the hall, to the left." She pointed past the waiting room where dozens of people in varying degrees of suffering sat in plastic orange chairs. "I'll buzz you through."

He turned, and the antiseptic smell nearly knocked him to his knees. God, he hated hospitals. Exhaling, he strode past the guard, heard the buzz, and pushed through the double doors. On shaky legs, he bypassed the first few curtained areas until he found the one beneath the number five. Pushing the sickly green cloth barrier aside, he came face to face with Scott. The boy reclined in a hospital bed, his left leg wearing an ice wrap and elevated. Beside the bed stood Nate on the right, Summer seated in a chair on the left with a sleepy-eyed Maddie in her lap.

"Hey, Dad," Scott said at the same time Summer greeted him with, "Craig. It's okay. He's going to be okay."

He swallowed hard, allowed himself a few seconds to absorb Summer's reassurance. His skeleton sagged with relief. "It's okay?"

"The doctor thinks it's either a sprain or a small fracture to the growth plate. We're waiting for the x-rays. He'll need to see an orthopedist, and his baseball career is over for this season, but he's going to be okay."

"I'm getting a cast, Dad," Scott exclaimed. "Isn't that awesome?"

"Awesome," he replied blandly.

Maddie yawned, and Craig turned back to Summer. "Why don't you take the other kids home? I think they've had enough excitement for one night."

"Not yet," Nate said. "Summer promised us something from the hospital cafeteria."

His lips quirked, and one eyebrow arched. "You're kidding."

She shrugged. "Apparently, that's awesome, too."

"Oh, I'll bet."

"It's probably going to be a while before we hear from the doctors," she said as she slowly rose, still holding Maddie. "You sure you don't want me to stick around?"

"No. You look drained, and Maddie's clearly wiped. Go home. Feed the kids and put them to bed. I'll bring this guy home as soon as he's fixed up."

She nodded. "I'll bring you a coffee before I leave."

"From the cafeteria?" He bugged out his eyes with exaggerated excitement. "'Awesome.'"

The warmth of her soft laughter lingered long after she'd taken the kids from the ward.