by Devney Perry
All three times, Denny had been high. If he came here today and was high again, he’d either be loopy from the alcohol, dazed from the marijuana or flat-out mean if he’d taken something stronger. His mood would likely depend on the drug he’d chosen for breakfast. God, I hoped he’d just smoked some weed. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been without a shirt and his right arm had sported a needle mark.
Denny was in trouble and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. I wasn’t sure Mom even noticed her precious son was anything but perfect. But Dad, he would have been heartbroken. And he would have hauled Denny’s ass to rehab.
Was Denny okay to be driving? Maybe I was exaggerating his problem. I had only seen him the three times.
Still, I wasn’t taking the chance of him coming up here and causing a scene. Mom’s visit was enough family-coworker interaction for one day.
“Well, Mom, I guess you’d better head down to meet him then. The waiting room down there is much bigger and you can people watch. I’d love to sit with you but I really can’t.”
“I can keep Abby company,” Dr. Vernon offered.
“She’s fine,” I insisted.
“Oh, I’d love company.” Mom smiled at him.
Fantastic. My mother was going to flirt with the man who was essentially my boss while they waited for my brother to show up in Lord knew what state.
Dr. Vernon gave Mom his elbow, like he was escorting her to prom, not to a waiting room with a fake ficus in the corner and one-year-old magazines. He offered her the bench seat, then sat across from her, leaning forward on his elbows as he gave her a flirtatious smile.
Was this really happening? Was Dr. Vernon into my mom?
My brain couldn’t compute the notion. How was this my life? The man who’d been making me uncomfortable for months with his creepy stares and blatant disrespect for personal space was hitting on my mother.
He was probably fifteen years younger than she was. What if they started dating? Oh, hell. My stomach rolled.
“So Dr. Vernon is a cougar hunter. Huh. Didn’t see that coming.”
I spun around, my eyes wide at Milo’s voice. “What are you doing?”
He shrugged. “Eavesdropping.”
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough.”
Which meant Milo knew our newest guest was my mother and he’d listened to the whole exchange from behind the wall.
“Shouldn’t you be in your room resting? You already had your walk today.”
“Yeah, but I thought another one was a good idea.” He winked. “Gotta work up my stamina.”
Milo’s skin grafts were healing nicely from his surgery and he was now cleared to move around a bit more. He was no longer trapped inside his room, going only between the bathroom and bed.
He’d taken his newfound freedom as an excuse to search me out each day. He walked the short distance between his room and the corner of the nurses station as often as he could manage, hoping to find me.
We still didn’t talk much. We were being cautious, especially when Dr. Vernon was on the floor. But simply seeing his face, sharing a smile and a hello, was the best part of each day.
“You need to be careful.” I frowned. “Don’t overdo it.”
“I’m fine. I’ve got my trusty walker.” He rattled the silver walker he was required to use when outside his room. Though considering the first-degree burns on his legs had healed long ago, we both knew the walker was ridiculous.
My eyes drifted toward the floor. The hospital’s drawstring pants he was wearing were about five inches too short on his long legs. His bony ankles stuck out of the slippers Teresa had bought him when they’d first gotten here. The blue-green gown was loose on Milo’s neck and arms, more like a flimsy sack than a garment.
Only he could make the outfit sexy.
I’d probably swoon and faint the first time I saw him in real, fitted clothes.
“What?” he asked, glancing at his attire.
“Nothing.” I giggled. “I was just thinking about what you’d look like in real clothes.”
He grinned. “Lanky.”
“I like lanky.”
“Good.” His gaze went back to the corner where Mom and Dr. Vernon were laughing about something. “So, that’s your mom?”
I nodded. “That’s her.”
I studied Milo’s face as he studied Mom’s. This was typically when men would let their gaze linger on her face—or her chest. But Milo only gave her a cursory glance before he turned his attention back to me. His eyes didn’t linger on Mom.
They lingered on me.
The rest of the world dimmed as we stared at one another. My eyes traced the soft edges of his lips, wishing we were alone and I could touch them.
It had been a week since he’d kissed me but I could still feel his touch and the heat from his mouth over mine. I was holding on to the memory of our first kiss even though I knew there’d be more.
Milo was leaving eventually. He lived and worked in Montana. I lived and worked in Washington. But we had more kisses coming. When he checked out of the hospital in a few weeks, it wouldn’t be the end.
Down to my bones, I knew it was only the beginning.
Maybe our relationship would continue over the phone. Maybe, in time, this flurry of attraction would fade to a friendship. Maybe the sparks between us would ignite into a fire that fused us together permanently.
“Sara.” Mom’s voice startled me and I forced my eyes from Milo.
“Yeah, Mom?”
She walked my way. “Greg and I are going to get some coffee downstairs while I wait for Denny.”
“Okay.” I nodded. That was the best idea she’d had in ages. “Let me know what the mechanic says about your car.”
“Milo,” Dr. Vernon said, looking between us both, “take care not to overexert yourself. It would probably be best if you limited yourself to one walk a day.”
“Sure thing, Doc.” There was no missing the condescending tone.
Dr. Vernon let the faintest scowl show before walking to the elevator to push the call button.
“You really should do something with your hair,” Mom said quietly.
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I smoothed the ends of my ponytail.
“There are a lot more attractive ways to wear your hair up.”
All of which took exponentially longer than the ten seconds it took to tie my hair in a ponytail. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Is navy the only color you can wear?” She inspected my scrubs, not letting me answer. “It’s too bad you can’t wear green or something to bring out your eyes.”
“I’m here to help people, Mom. Not win a beauty contest.”
She opened her mouth, likely to deliver another critique, but stopped when Dr. Vernon returned to her side.
The four of us stood there in a silence so awkward I began to sweat. Milo was refusing to go back to his room. Mom was smiling sweetly at Dr. Vernon as his gaze alternated between her and me. And I was stuck in the middle, wondering why the goddamn elevator was taking so long.
It dinged and I breathed a sigh of relief. Until the doors opened and my brother stepped onto the floor.
“Denny?” Mom went to his side. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”
He coughed. “I was downtown.”
“Oh, really?” Her eyebrows came together. “I thought you were at home.”
“Had to run an errand.” He shook her grip from his arm and looked up at me. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I mumbled.
Denny’s eyes were glassy. His long hair, a shade darker and much, much dirtier than mine, was pulled into a messy man bun. He looked like he’d spent the night sleeping in a ditch. His jeans were filthy. His flannel shirt had a rip in the side. The laces on his boots were untied, the ends caked in dirt and snow where he’d walked on them.
Seeing Denny like this would have broken Dad’s heart.
It broke mine.
“Can we g
o?” Denny didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and staggered back to the elevators, pushing the first-floor button five times before shoving his hands in his pockets.
Mom and I shared a worried glance. Maybe his addiction hadn’t gone unnoticed in her house. Maybe she was more concerned than she’d let on.
Denny was Mom’s whole world. Their bond was different than the one I had with her. Even though she picked at me, I knew she loved me, in her own way.
She loved me.
But she lived for Denny.
“I’ll call you later,” she said, ducking her head to follow Denny into the opening elevator.
“Can I escort you down?” Dr. Vernon asked her.
“No, thank you, Greg.” She held up her hand to stop him. “It was nice to meet you.”
“I have your number.”
She nodded, recovering slightly to smile. “Call me. Anytime. I’d like that.”
Denny didn’t look up from the elevator floor as the doors closed. When it was gone, the awkwardness returned to the hallway. This time, heavier.
I wasn’t sure where to look, at either Dr. Vernon or at Milo, so I kept my eyes on the floor. Denny had been on something; all three of us knew it. The smell of booze and smoke and bad choices stunk up the hallway.
Dr. Vernon spoke first. “Milo, you’d better get back to your room. Doctor’s orders.”
I could feel Milo’s gaze on my face but I refused to look up from my feet. If I did, I’d want to go to him. I’d want to feel his arms around me as I buried my face into his chest.
But he was still hurting. And Dr. Vernon was watching.
Without a word, Milo turned and retreated to his room, the squeak of his walker fading with each ambled step.
“Your mom is lovely,” Dr. Vernon said when we were alone.
I nodded. “She is a beautiful woman.”
“You both are.”
What a pig. “Excuse me.”
I practically ran from his side, going to the women’s locker room, where he couldn’t follow. When the door closed behind me, I sucked in a deep breath and sat on the wooden bench in the center of the room.
What was I going to do about Denny? What would Dad do?
I didn’t know my brother. I wanted to, but I didn’t. We’d spent too many years apart. If I asked him to go to rehab, he’d laugh in my face. And I doubted Mom would have better luck.
But we had to try. For Dad, I had to try. He wouldn’t have wanted this life for Denny.
I took a few minutes alone to compose myself. When I emerged from the locker room, I immediately checked on all of my patients, and when they were all taken care of, I went in search of Kym, finding her in the supply room.
“Did Dr. Vernon leave?” I asked her.
“About two minutes ago. You just missed him. Did you need something?”
“No, but I need to go talk to Milo.”
“Go.” She waved me on. “I’ll cover for you.”
“Thanks.” I squeezed her shoulder as I walked by.
I went directly to Milo’s room, taking a deep breath before entering. I expected to find him in bed with the lights off, so I was surprised to see him standing next to the window, the curtains open and light streaming inside the room.
He glanced over his shoulder, saw it was me, then turned back to the view of the parking lot and downtown cityscape in the distance.
“Are you okay?” I asked, walking to his side.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You?”
“I’m okay. What are you doing?”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“When Vernon took me off the drugs, I was so fucking mad,” Milo said, speaking to the glass. “I honestly thought it was because of you. Because he knows I have feelings for you and it was his way of punishing me.”
“I thought so too.”
Milo’s shoulders fell. “I think Vernon has feelings for you too. I don’t like it. I’m man enough to admit I was jealous. But I don’t think that’s why he took me off the morphine. I think he saw.”
“Saw what?”
He hung his head. “That I needed it too much.”
“Oh, Milo.” I slipped my hand into his. My God, this man. How much strength had it taken him to admit that?
“Don’t get me wrong, I still think Vernon’s a douchebag.”
I laughed. “I agree.”
“But he’s a decent doctor.”
“Yeah, he is.”
We stood by the window, watching traffic race along the interstate in the distance. Below us, a few cars pulled in and out of the parking lot. A tractor was pushing a heap of snow into a boulevard.
“You need to do something about your brother.” Milo squeezed my hand.
“I know,” I whispered. “I wish my dad were here. He’d know what to do.”
“What about your mom?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think Denny will listen to her. I don’t think she’s ever made him follow a rule a day in his life. She’s always been lenient where he’s concerned.”
“Your mom is not what I expected.”
“She’s my polar opposite. She craves attention. She is always doing something with friends because she can’t be alone. Then there’s me. Plain and dull Sara.”
“What?” Milo turned away from the window and dropped my hand. Then he placed both of his hands on my shoulders.
He was so tall. Standing this close, he towered over me, blocking out some of the light from the window. It was like standing beneath my very own cloud, its shadow protecting me from the sun.
“Sara, you are not plain. Or dull.” He framed my cheek with his hand.
“Yes, I am.”
“No, babe, you’re not.” He bent and brushed his lips against mine. “You shine.”
Eight
“Guess what?” I asked the moment Milo answered the phone.
“What?”
“Luna called me!” I squealed. “We just hung up.”
“Yeah? That’s great, babe.” Milo had been calling me babe for the past two weeks, and it was quickly becoming my favorite word.
“She sounded so good.” My smile widened. “And happy.”
Luna had apologized for not calling sooner. In truth, she’d been nervous to call, worried I hadn’t really wanted to hear from her since she was no longer my patient. I’d assured her I very much wanted to keep in touch and we’d talked for an hour.
Returning to school had been an adjustment. There were, as promised, a couple of asshole kids who snickered about her scars. But after a few weeks, most people treated her the same way they had before her accident.
She’d jumped into her former role as a reporter for the school newspaper. She’d had a couple of sleepovers with her friends. Luna was every bit the vivacious teenager I’d come to know, and I was overjoyed that maybe, just maybe, I’d even get to see her grow into a stunning woman.
“I’m glad she called you,” Milo said.
“Me too. How was your day?”
“Meh. Fine. Boring.”
“I take it you didn’t read that book I gave you.”
“No, I did. But I finished it already.”
“Already? Wow. You’re a fast reader. I’ll bring you another one tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ve missed you.”
I blushed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ve missed you too.”
I’d been off for two days, and even though I didn’t get to spend much time with Milo while I was at work anyway, our small glimpses had become the highlight of each day. Two days without seeing his face was two days too long. How was I going to manage when he went back to Montana?
We’d gotten into a routine these past two weeks. We talked on the phone every morning as I walked to work, little conversations about what was happening. We saved our longer conversations for night when we were both tucked into our respectful beds.
I’d realized last night as I’d fallen asleep with a smile, for the
first time in a while, I didn’t feel lonely.
Because Milo Phillips had become my best friend.
“What time is your dinner with your family?” he asked.
I glanced at the clock. “Thirty minutes. I need to leave soon.”
The anxiety of what was to come had nauseated me all day.
Over the past two weeks, Mom and I had met four times for coffee and to discuss Denny. We agreed he needed help, and after a lot of discussion, we’d decided to approach him together, hoping a united front would resonate.
Tonight was the big night.
“Call me when it’s over.”
“I will. Bye.” I tossed the phone down and flopped backward on the couch, staring at the ceiling for the fifteen minutes I had before needing to leave for Mom’s.
Denny was going to hate me for this.
But I had to try.
“Fuck you.” The front door slammed.
Denny’s words echoed in the house as Mom and I stared at the smooth top of the dining room table.
She reached for another cigarette, shaking it from the pack. The click of the lighter was drowned out by the roar of Denny’s engine as he raced his truck away from the house.
Mom blew a long stream of smoke into the air. “I told you this wouldn’t work.”
“Of course it didn’t work. You just sat there!” I shoved away from the table, standing and pacing the length of the dining room, sidestepping the lettuce all over the floor. “Thanks for the support.”
The intervention with Denny had turned into me versus him. And guess what side Mom had taken?
“What did you expect me to say?” she snapped.
“Um, anything would have been better than you sitting there and chain-smoking.”
“He wouldn’t have listened to me.”
“We don’t know that,” I shot back.
“He’s my son. I know.”
“Fine.” I tossed up my hands. “It was your idea for me to come here so we could confront Denny together. Clearly you needed me to be the bad guy. Well, mission accomplished, Mom. Instead of talking to him in a united front, you made me the evil older sister.”