Accidental Happiness Read Online Free PDF

drenched material down the length of her face, her throat.
    Even unkempt from distress, and God knows what else, she was beautiful—and I hated seeing it. I’d always known—from pictures, from the way Benjamin talked about her—but seeing it was a blow. I don’t know why. It was irrelevant, what she looked like. Benjamin would never have the chance to want her back. A stupid collection of thoughts. With everything going on, could I really be feeling jealous?
    “I’m scared to go in there,” she said. “What if it’s gone bad? What if she’s—”
    “Let’s just park in the Emergency lot. I’ll go in with you,” I said. “I’ll even go in first, if you want. I can find out how she is and come right back.”
    It felt good to be the strong one.
    “I should go,” she said, looking miserable, not moving. “But Angel . . . God, if anything happened to her . . . Will you stay with me?”
    “Sure. Nothing’s going to happen,” I said, working to sound confident. “Come on. Everything’s going to be fine.”
    It was all a bluff. I knew all too well that things didn’t always turn out fine; but I kept up the ruse, as much for my sake as for hers.
    She nodded, even managed a weak smile, as I drove to the lot around the corner and parked as close to the entrance as I could without risking a tow.
    “Her name is Angel?” I asked, a belated recollection of what she’d said.
    “Angelina,” she said. “I call her Angel.”
    I nodded. Thought of telling her that the name was pretty, but realized the compliment would sound trivial under the circumstances.
    We walked through the parking lot toward the bright lights of the Emergency Room. As we got to the entrance I took a breath, but didn’t reach for the door. My hand was shaking, my whole arm, really. Rogue muscles defied my efforts at control. Panic moved through me, but then calmed when I took a deep breath; went away as quickly as it had come.
    “Are you okay?” she asked.
    “Yeah, I’m fine.” I opened the door. Simple.
    “If there’s a shrink on call, let’s get him on board,” she said without looking over at me. “I think we could both use a session or two—along with a pack of Marlboro Lights.” I sensed she wasn’t kidding about the cigarettes. She turned her head, offered a weak smile, and the effort seemed noble somehow.
    The reception area was across the room. A Plexiglas window separated the office staff from the hoi polloi outside.
    “I’ll go check at the desk,” I told her. “You grab anybody who looks official if they come this way.” Then I left her there to find out what I could. I hoped to God the news was good.
    Beside the reception area, a hall led toward where the action occurred. There was a woman ahead of me telling them about her infected toe, and as I waited, I looked down the hall for any sign of Angel and her entourage. Fluorescent lights reflected off the pale green walls. Busy people moved around without stopping to regard one another.
    After a minute or so of waiting, the toe injury woman looked as if she was just getting started. Down the hall I saw a nurse, an older woman, standing off by herself, looking at a chart. A couple of people had gotten in line behind me, so it would be taking a chance, but I decided to go talk to the nurse anyway.
    “Excuse me,” I said as I got close enough to grab her attention. “I’m trying to find out about a little girl who’s just been brought in.”
    “The gunshot?” the woman asked.
    I didn’t answer. It sounded too horrible.
The gunshot.
Gunshot victims, especially kids, were always drive-by shootings or drug deal cross fire. The idea that I had shot a child branded me somehow. I wondered if the woman noticed, if she knew it was my fault.
    “Ma’am?” she prompted me. “What child are you looking for?”
    “Yes,” I answered. “The girl who was shot. How is she?”
    “Are you the mother?”
    “No. I’m . . .” What was I? “I’m a . . . I’m with her