Page 6 of Survival
Once I was safely covered, I ran a brush through my hair with a little bit of product to let it air dry, not having it in me for anything more at the moment, and stepped out into the bedroom.
Walking quickly over to the dresser, I grabbed my new—and necessary—cut out one piece, careful to avoid an accidental glance at the base of my favorite piece of furniture that was now covered with scuff marks and chips in the beautiful wood. I’d always regret how I’d lashed out when I’d read Daddy’s letter. I just hadn’t been ready then, not even slightly equipped to deal with the onslaught of emotions it had brought after just losing my daughter.
But I wasn’t going to let myself think about that. That fit into a category of a lot of things I had to focus on not thinking about. I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and pulled my swimsuit up under my towel, making sure it was well up my waist before letting the towel drop.
My hand skimmed over my lower abdomen now that it was covered, making sure the painful reminder of thatnight that only myself and some of the hospital staff had seen was well hidden. It felt smooth, flawless. And a glance in the mirror told me that others would be fooled into thinking the same.
Reassured, I stuffed a beach towel and sunscreen in my bag and darted from the room, my thoughts already focused on who I needed to see at the beach.
TUCKER
“Ahhh!!!”
I winced, holding the small leg still as the boy tried to jerk back. “I know it hurts, but you’ll be okay. I promise,” I said in my most soothing voice to the crying six-year-old. “Do your best to hold still for me, okay? The more still you are, the faster I can get done.” I gave him a smile, and he nodded, tears still spilling down his cheeks as he gave me a trembling one back. His mom sat in the sand behind him, her arms around his waist.
“Are you sure he’s going to be fine? Do I need to take him to the emergency room?”
“No, ma’am.” I splashed a little more seawater over the boy’s leg before grabbing my tweezers. “It’s a jellyfish sting. Nothing to get too upset over. He’ll be fine.” I carefully plucked a bit of tentacle from the fresh sting, and the boy screamed.Shit.I held back a wince as the mom gave me a piercing glare.
“I’m sorry. I have to,” I said to them both. “It has to be treated. I can do it right here,now, or youcantake him tothe ER where he might have a several hours long wait.” I held her dark brown stare for several seconds before she finally gave me a consenting nod.
Thank God.This poor kid didnotneed to wait for treatment.
“Ow!” The boy screamed again as I pulled off another venom sac. I quickly plucked away the last two and doused the kid’s leg in vinegar before setting him up with a hot water soak.
“Alright, Caleb,” I said in the same soothing voice as I reached into the first aid kit. “I’m going to put some of this on your leg.” I held up a tube of hydrocortisone cream. “Trust me?” He looked at me warily, and I gave him a raised eyebrow with a funny face I used on my sisters sometimes. “Hey, now, you can’t tell me this thing still hurts like it did when I first started helping you, can you?”
The edge of his mouth lifted in a tiny flicker of a grin. “I guess not.”
“Thought so.” I grinned back. “Now, hold still for me.” I spread the cream on and then showed his mom the tube. “You’ll need to pick some of this up if you don’t have any at home. He’ll need it applied twice a day until it heals.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
I ruffled Caleb’s hair. “Okay, kid. Thanks for being so brave. You’re good to go.”
Taking a deep breath, I waited for them to walk off before heading back to my chair.
“Well, that looked like fun,” Emma teased when I climbed back up into the chair next to hers.
I shot her a sarcastic look. “Tons.”
She laughed. “I’m just glad it wasn’t me.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to let you run off for bathroom breaks anymore. Last Sunday, you said you had to pee, and a surfer knocked his head on his board. Today you go and a boy gets stung by a jellyfish.”
“Like I can help that crap happens exactly when I need to use the restroom.”
“You should.”
Emma gave me a funny look. “You’re in a weird mood today.”
“Am I?” I asked, avoiding the eyes of the small, athletic blonde who was giving me a scrutinizing look. I kept my gaze out on the Gulf, trying to look intent on searching for trouble that might turn up.
“Yeah. Kinda,” she softly replied.
I didn’t answer, my eyes still fixed on the sparkling blue water while I waited for my friend to look away. I saw the swing of her ponytail from the corner of my eye and relaxed a little, glad that she seemed to have given up.