Rude Awakenings: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 2)

Chapter Forty-One: Lauren, Tuesday

They were forced to take Lauren's work car, the Nissan Versa. It was perfectly suited to her driving needs, but it wasn't very roomy, and she knew they would have a hell of a time bringing Joe home in this. She drove this time, more confident with the workings, and knowing if she didn't drive she would spend the whole time fidgeting and bouncing in her seat, like the kids were now, in the back.

"Auntie Rachel gave the game away," Lauren had explained to them after waking them with the news they'd found their dad. "She didn't want to hide anymore. She's ready to come home."

"Why are they at the hospital?" Naomi asked now.

"They spent too much time outside," she said, though she wasn't sure that was entirely accurate. "It gets cold at night, now. They might have caught colds."

"We don't go to the hospital when we get colds," Tosh said.

"That's because you're such strong, healthy kids," she said.

"Dad hardly ever gets sick," Naomi said. "Are you sure it's not something more serious?"

Naomi was far too smart. She'd have to be careful. "He might have gotten a boo-boo while he was hiding. He's a big boy, you know how often he bumps his head."

"Silly Daddy," Tosh said, chuckling.

"He is silly."

While Lauren drove, Al made the phone calls. To Sunny, to the police, to Johnny and to her in-laws, even to her own parents. He performed well, giving only the facts as they knew them and nothing else. She had a feeling that before long, whatever hospital room Joe and Rachel were in would be full.

Surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly, he didn't call Rachel's mom. She didn't even know if Rachel's mom knew she'd been missing. Rachel and her mother might have been closer than they used to be, but they could still go days without calling each other. Al also didn't call his own mother, because Lauren remembered he'd never told her she was missing either. It was interesting how similarly Rachel and Al treated their mothers, holding back information from them, but for different reasons; Al, not to distress his, and Rachel, not to anger hers.

She took the Grandview Highway turnoff from Highway One, and it took them all the way there, becoming Twelfth Avenue as it took them into the west side of Vancouver. VGH was a sprawling complex taking many blocks from Ash Street all the way to Oak Street. Lauren found the directions to the parking garage, parked, and Al paid for parking while she stopped Tosh and Naomi from sprinting ahead and getting hit by reversing cars. They crossed the street to the hospital and found the directions to the emergency room.

Rachel found them before they could even begin to navigate their way through the maze of curtains, beeping machines, harried nurses and doctors, and gurneys. "Al!" she called.

When Al saw her, and Lauren saw his face, she knew for certain that, whatever might or might not have happened between them, there was only one woman in his heart, and that was a good thing, because it stopped her from getting any foolish ideas in her head about what might or might not have been in her own. Crisis was a terrible incubator for affections; it was more like a bellows, blowing the ember hot but, in the absence of continued effort, hardly more effective than a breath of air. The crisis had passed. The cooling would now begin.

He rushed to her and threw his arms around her, and she yelped in pain, and he let go and said, "Sorry, sorry, oh, honey, oh, sweetie." Her face crumpled, and this time he hugged her more gently, and she sniffled into his shoulder. When Lauren got closer, she could see Rachel had a black eye, and her face was scraped, her hair was a tangled, greasy mess, and who knew what kinds of bruises she had under her hospital gown.