Cupcake Party Continues

If you'd like to read the excerpts from A New Dream in order, just start with the first post and work your way forward. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win my cupcake prize. A New Dream is available at http://www.astraeapress.com/#ecwid:category=662245&mode=product&product=2676585

This excerpt takes place right after the accident.

Marilyn McCallum drew a deep, shaky breath and groped
for her husband’s hand. “We’ve been waiting for hours now,” she
quavered. “What could be going on in that operating room, Rod?”

Rod never answered. His face contorted and he sprang to his
feet as a nurse approached. “Would you like some more coffee?”
she asked.

“We’d like to know about our son,” Rod answered. “Is
everything okay? He’s been in there so long.”

Nurse Whittaker patted him on the shoulder. “Please, don’t
worry. Dr. Williams is the best doctor on staff. He’ll do everything
he can.”

As she bustled away, Stacey Thomas, who sat beside
Marilyn, dropped her head into her hands. Marilyn tried to ignore
the smear of blood across the girl’s back. She swallowed hard
against sudden nausea. Stacey was fine even though Matt’s fate
was still up in the air. “Hang on. It can’t be long now.”

Tears slid down Stacey’s face. “This isn’t the way the day
was supposed to end. Matt and I had a beautiful time, but now…”

A tall man in sweat--stained surgical scrubs approached
them. “Mr. and Mrs. McCallum?” The doctor’s voice brought all
three of them to their feet.

“How is he?” begged Marilyn, her eyes anxious, wide, and
staring in her white face.

“Better than I expected,” the doctor admitted. “His left leg
was mangled from the knee down. It took a long time, but I think
we’ve saved it. He has four screws and two plates, and he’ll
undoubtedly have a limp for the rest of his life, but we did save his
leg.”

“He kicks with his right leg anyway,” Rod muttered.

“Ah, well, that’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you
about. I’m sorry, Mr. McCallum. I saw him play last year, so I know
he had a wonderful career in front of him, but in spite of everything
we did, his right leg was hurt too bad to save. We had to amputate
right above his knee.”

“At least he’s alive,” Marilyn sobbed as she rhythmically
shredded a tissue. “I don’t care about his leg; I just want my son to
live.”

“I can almost promise you he will,” the doctor comforted
her. “Barring unforeseen complications, he’s going to be fine, and
as soon as his leg heals we’ll fit a prosthesis on him and teach him
how to walk again.”

“When can we see him?” Marilyn begged as she wiped away
her tears.

“He’s in Recovery now. We plan to put him in ICU until he’s
stable. The last thing we need is an infection, and we can watch him
better there. We’ll let you know as soon as he gets there. Then you
can see him for a minute.”

Rod groped for the sofa and fell backwards onto the
miserable thing. “The best kicker in thirty years,” he whispered,
quoting what a sports announcer had said on TV only hours earlier.
“The best kicker in thirty years, and now they have to teach him to
walk again.”

He jumped up as if he’d sat on a porcupine. “I’m going
home, Marilyn. Are you coming?”

Marilyn’s eyes bugged. “Are you serious? I’m not leaving
until I’ve seen him.”

“Stacey?”

“I… I’ll… go with you. I need to tell my parents Matt’s out
of surgery.”

Marilyn watched in amazement as Rod and Stacey hurried
away and sat back to continue her vigil alone.