Memory Remains
There must be some sort of rule that all hospitals have to keep their emergency room at roughly the same temperature as a meat locker, Eric thought as he sat back on the bed at the hospital. And that the blankets can’t have a higher thread count than the toilet paper.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Hendricks?” A short, stout nurse with brassy red hair poked her head around the edge of the curtain that separated the treatment room from the hall, and Eric noticed that her fingernails were decorated with red and blue star decals.

“Like I’ve been eaten by a wolf and shit off a cliff. Where’s my daughter?” He tried to sit up and was rewarded with another round of the dizziness that had convinced him to lie back on the bed in the first place.

“The pediatrician is just double checking to make sure that she doesn’t have any injuries that we didn’t catch the first time.” She came all the way into the room to check the drip rate on the fluids that were attached to the crook of his arm, and he thought about asking her for another blanket. “Angel was very lucky.”

“I know. I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there.” They must be running fucking ice water into my veins. It’s like this room is getting colder every minute. Before he could open his mouth to ask the nurse about that blanket, the curtain was ripped back and a small girl came bounding into his room.

“DADDY!” Grinning brightly and bearing no indication of the day’s trauma other than a Snoopy bandage on her upper arm, Angel launched herself onto the bed and hugged Eric tightly.

“Hello, my Angel.” The wounds on his arm and shoulder were deep, but the relief he felt at seeing his daughter’s smile overshadowed the pain somehow and he hugged her tightly. “How are you feeling?”

“I hadda got a shot.” Her round face slid into a pout as she pointed to the plastic strip that clashed crazily with her sundress. “They said so.”

“They were right,” Eric said seriously, looking up as his wife pulled the curtain closed behind her. She looked as if she was going to try and make Angel get down and he shook his head. “Daddy has to get some shots too.”

“Why?”

“Because that dog was sick, sweetheart. And if we didn’t get the shots, he might have made us sick, too.”

“He was bad sick.” Angel put her head on her father’s chest and stared at the catheter in his arm. He hoped she couldn’t feel how cold he was. “Wasn’t you scared, Daddy?”

“Yes. I was very scared.” Gently, he stroked the back of her head. One of her firecracker barrettes was gone, lost in the running or the fighting. Eric closed his eyes, suddenly struck by another wave of dizziness. “Scared that something might happen to my best girl.”

“I love you, Daddy.”

When he opened his eyes again he was still in the hospital, only now he was standing beside the bed instead of lying on it. For a moment he was confused, looking around the room and trying to figure out why he was there, but a moment later it was explained when the nurse held a small, brightly wrapped bundle toward him.

“Here’s your little girl, Mr. Hendricks. She’s a beauty.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. There had been a problem with Jenny’s uterus, so the little girl’s delivery by caesarian section had prevented any of the usual redness or strangely shaped head issues that seemed to plague newborns. Even if she had been purple with one eye, he still would have thought she was amazing, though.

Does it have to be this cold in here? It can’t be good for the babies to have the temperature this low. Maybe I should talk to the nurse. What if she catches a cold?

“Bring her down here so I can see her.” His wife, now the mother of his child, was heavily sedated but clear headed enough to hold the baby while they finished repairing her incisions, and Eric reluctantly handed her over. “She really is beautiful.”

“I think so. Angela is a perfect name for her.” Rubbing his arms, Eric looked around. “Jesus. Is it freezing in here to you too?”

“Sweetheart, I can’t feel anything below my chest.” Jenny tugged at the tiny knit cap they had fitted on the baby. “I am a little sad that we won’t be able to have any others, though.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to have enough on my hands taking care of the two of you,” he said, running a finger over the baby’s arm. It’s so small. How can she be so small? “At least if she’s anything like the rest of your family.”

“No. She’s going to be a little angel.”

“That’s what we should call her for short. Angel.” Eric reached out to touch her again and a storm of static passed over his eyes. Everything blurred for a moment as the room began to spin and he caught himself on the side of the bed. Jenny didn’t seem to notice. “Our…Angel.”

“Do you want to hold her again?”

“No…I…” Clutching his head with his icy hands, Eric staggered toward the door. None of the doctors or nurses in the operating room seemed to see his distress. “I don’t think…it’d be safe.”

“Of course it is, Daddy.”

Even through the buzzing that was starting to muffle the sounds in the room, he knew Angela’s voice. Forcing his head upward, he braced himself against the doorframe and squinted at her until his vision cleared.

She was smiling broadly, not like the last time he saw her, a little girl with one foot in preteen territory who had been begging him to get another hole in her ear for a month. His head cleared as she came toward him, warmth spreading through him as she put her arms around his chest. Feeling himself dangerously close to tears, Eric embraced his daughter.

“Can you ever forgive me, my Angel?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Her face was buried against his shirt, but his daughter’s voice was as clear as if she had been speaking right into his ear. “You saved me, Daddy.” There was no stopping the tears now, and he felt them falling into her hair as the darkness at the edges of the room crept closer. The chill was gone from the air, though, and all was finally quiet.

“I love you, my precious Angel.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”