So warm. She snuggled down deeper under the covers.
But screaming.
There was screaming.
Why is there screaming?
Ivy jackknifed up in bed. Her mom was screaming and crying, the sound muffled through the closed bedroom door. Holy hell! She leaped out of bed and threw on her ratty old bathrobe that she hadn’t worn since high school, yanking her bedroom door open, where she promptly plowed right into her father, who was also tearing down the hallway.
“Oof!” she grunted.
That made it a second time in two days that she’d run into someone. So much for her waitressing skills keeping her light on her toes.
No time to apologize to her dad or laugh about it, though; they untangled themselves and then were running down the hallway and into the living room, the cries of Betty Rae getting louder as they moved. “Help! Oh God, you have to help! Call 911!”
They rounded the corner into the living room and Ivy skittered to a stop, seeing but not understanding. Her mom was dragging Iris’ limp body into the house, covered in blood and melting snow. Iris’ eyes were closed; her pale cheeks a stark contrast to the deep red spreading everywhere. Mom laid her down gently and began rocking back and forth over her, crying and stroking her hair away from her face.
“My baby, oh my baby!” she wept, as the blood and the snow swirled together and dripped onto the tile foyer floor.
Ivy just stood there in shock, staring. How…what…Her brain refused to comprehend what was in front of her.
Somewhere in the distance, she numbly heard her dad barking into the landline, “My daughter! She fell. She was outside. She hit her head and is bleeding everywhere. Yes…okay…Betty!” he shouted, covering up the mouthpiece of the phone. “The dispatcher wants to know if she’s awake or not.”
Her mom shook her head. “I’ve been begging her to wake up, but she isn’t moviinnnnggggg…” She broke back down into sobs, rocking back and forth, cradling Iris’ head against her. “Iris, baby, wake up for Mom. You have to wake up.” The icy winter air curled inside through the open front door, along with snowflakes, still falling endlessly from the sky.
Snow? When did it start snowing? It must’ve started after her parents’ party finished last night. She hated snow. White and cold and endless and…
Ivy’s vision blackened around the edges as the world narrowed. She breathed in through her mouth slowly, trying to quell her panic. Iris needed her. Passing out wouldn’t help anything. Blood had always been Iris’ thing, not Ivy’s, and seeing it everywhere, mixed with the hated snow…
The room went a little darker still. Ivy fought it back. She had to. She could help. What would Iris do?
Oh, duh!
She forced herself into the kitchen, where she snatched some hand towels out of the drawer. Iris would stop the bleeding. A ten-year-old kid would know to stop the bleeding. Ivy felt like she was swimming through syrup, everything distorted and moving slow.
Her sister needed her, dammit. She could have a panic attack later. As soon as Iris was okay.
She moved back into the living room, the cold air swirling and mixing with the warm air of the house, but it still wasn’t enough and Ivy shivered in her bathrobe, or maybe it was shock settling in. She could be going into shock. She felt shocky. And weird. Her vision was fading in and out with every breath. A distant part of her brain heard the gas heater kick on as she knelt next to Iris, hand towels at the ready.
“Yes, my daughter is putting some towels on her head,” Ivy heard her dad tell the dispatcher and with a grimace, she pushed the first towel down. The red of the blood mixed in with the red of Iris’ hair, making it deeper and more dramatic against her pale skin, which was growing whiter by the moment. Dammit, she was losing too much blood.
Her mom’s tears splashed on Iris’ face as she begged God to save her baby. “She’s a good girl. She loves everyone. You can’t take her away…”
The wail of the ambulance finally made its way into the house and her dad shouted, “Thank you!” to the dispatcher. After a moment, he hung up and rushed over. “Can you feel a pulse?” he demanded.
Her mom nodded. “She’s breathing but John, I can’t get her to wake up!”
Ivy stared down at her beautiful older sister, red hair encrusted in drying blood, the second kitchen towel starting to soak through so Ivy put a third one on and pushed down, trying to staunch the flow. How could she bleed so much and still be alive?
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Iris. I shouldn’t have accused you of inviting Tiffany and Ezzy to the party. I should’ve forced you to move to California with me. There’s no snow in San Francisco. You would be okay if you lived there. The shivers only got worse as she stared down at the person she’d always wanted to be. If you live through this, I promise to help you move to California. I’ll take care of you there. You’ve always taken care of me; it’s time for me to take care of you. Please wake up. I need to tell you how sorry I am.
The wails were incredibly loud and then hurrying feet crunched through the hated white snow, still swirling from the sky, and then they were in the house. The EMT eased Ivy’s grasp from the bloodied towels and with practiced efficiency, the two EMTs loaded her up onto a stretcher, pushing her outside and into the back of the ambulance.
Ivy stared after them through the open door, frozen to the floor, as her mom and dad begged the emergency personnel for more information.
“We’re taking her to the Long Valley Hospital. The Life Flight helicopter is on its way and should be landing shortly. We aren’t equipped to take care of this kind of brain injury here, especially with the previous trauma she’s had. We’ll fly her to St Luke’s in Boise from there. There isn’t enough room in the helicopter for any passengers, so you’ll need to drive and meet up with her there.”
Ivy forced herself to her feet, stiff and so very cold. She wasn’t sure if it was from kneeling just inside an open door, letting in the arctic air, or the terror from seeing her sister hurt. She made herself throw the towels away in the kitchen trash, and then scrub her hands clean of the dark and crusty blood. She had to clean up. She had to get dressed. She would go with her parents to Boise, and she would take care of her sister.
Her parents were coming back in, shouting as they hurried to get dressed, and as Ivy slipped a sweatshirt over her head, she suddenly realized that today was the day she was supposed to be going back to California. Her mom was supposed to be driving her to Boise this morning, but not to see her comatose sister in the hospital, but so she could fly back home.
Panic clutched at her again. There was no way she could leave Iris. Not now. Not when her sister needed her. When Iris had originally gotten into her car wreck just over three months ago, Ivy hadn’t been able to afford to fly up to see her, and had been forced to sit on the sidelines as her sister made her slow recovery.
Ivy couldn’t do it again.
Screw her job. Screw her boss. He was going to be angry when he heard the news, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
Iris needed her, and this time, Ivy wasn’t going to let her down.