The Candle Palace

by Devney Perry

  The dinner had started out . . . okay. I’d been tense, waiting for a minute before starting the conversation. Then Mom had given me a small nod and I’d started things off as we dished up the Caesar salad I’d brought over.

  Denny, we are worried about you.

  We know you’re using.

  We love you and want to get you some help.

  He glared at me for five excruciating heartbeats, then the bowl of salad went flying into the wall.

  Mom screamed. I flinched so hard I pulled a muscle in my side.

  Denny stood up, fists on the table, bent and shouted in my face.

  You don’t know anything about me or my life.

  I’m just that disappointing kid Dad never wanted and the brother you forgot existed.

  I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.

  I tried my best to remain calm. I nodded and said sorry. Then asked if he wouldn’t consider rehab for me, then to do it for Mom.

  Denny point-blank asked Mom, “Do you think I have a problem?”

  All she had to say was yes.

  She stayed silent.

  There was more yelling after that. Denny told me to get the fuck out of his house. That I didn’t live here anymore. When I didn’t immediately run for the door, he swiped up his can of beer and marched out himself.

  I’d never been told fuck you in place of a good-bye before.

  “None of this would have happened if your dad had been there for him.”

  My feet froze and then I spun slowly toward Mom. “What did you just say?”

  “Your dad was never there for Denny.”

  I gaped at her. Was she joking? Dad had done all he could for Denny, but she had refused to give him up. She’d known she was the lesser parent, but still, she’d kept her hooks in Denny, making sure he’d known that if he left, she’d be heartbroken.

  “Dad did everything he could for Denny. You were the one who wouldn’t let him come home to Spokane. You were the one responsible for him. You will not run Dad down. You will not put the blame on him. He was . . .” I swallowed down the angry tears. “He was the best father I could have ever asked for. He wanted to do more for Denny but you spoiled him so completely rotten there was nothing he could do. He tried to come and get Denny five times, remember? And Denny wouldn’t go. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

  Mom’s eyes widened. She raised her shaking fingers to her lips to pull a drag from the cigarette, then she blew it out in a thin, angry white line. “Your father never wanted Denny.”

  “That’s a lie.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Don’t you dare pin this on him when he’s not here to call you on your bullshit.”

  Dad wasn’t here to defend himself.

  So I’d do it.

  “This is not my fault.”

  “Yeah? Who’s giving Denny money these days? Who’s paying him? Because unless something’s changed, drugs and booze aren’t free. Last I checked, Denny still hasn’t gotten a job.”

  Mom’s face paled.

  “That’s what I thought.” I picked up the bowl from the floor, leaving the lettuce for Mom to deal with. Then I marched right out the front door like my brother had, slamming it behind me.

  The cool air was welcomed against the overheated, bare skin on my arms. I hadn’t brought my coat inside the house because I hadn’t wanted it to smell like smoke. But even the winter air couldn’t cool my temper as I drove away.

  Mom had been so bold and determined when we’d met to discuss this intervention. The approach, the timing, it had all been her idea. She’d even practiced her speech with me. How could she clam up? When Denny needed her most, how could she chicken out?

  I pitied my brother. He hadn’t had a parent, not like he should have.

  Maybe Mom was right. Maybe this was all Dad’s fault.

  I hated blaming him for anything. He was perfect in my memory and that image was precious.

  But Dad should have fought harder to get Denny.

  Both of our parents had let Denny down.

  The anger faded and tears flooded my eyes as I navigated the dark streets toward home. My hands wouldn’t turn the steering wheel onto my street. Instead, my car steered itself to the hospital, finding a spot in the visitors’ parking lot close to the front entrance.

  I hurried inside, cold now and shivering as I hurried through the deserted first-floor lobby to the elevators.

  I rarely took this way into the hospital. Employees parked in a reserved lot, where I’d park on the rare occasion I drove in. Normally, when I walked, I used the rear entrances. But tonight, I didn’t have my badge.

  Tonight, I wasn’t a nurse.

  Tonight, I was only a woman who needed the man who’d become infinitely important in her life.

  The elevator ride wasn’t long and when I stepped out, the unit was quiet. Both evening-shift nurses were at the station. The clock above them showed nearly eight o’clock. They said hello and exchanged a worried glance. I waved but didn’t stop moving, taking a fast and straight line to Milo’s door.

  I didn’t bother knocking.

  He hadn’t been expecting me. His eyes jumped from the TV to the door and did a double take. “Hey.”

  Milo must have realized the only reason I’d come here and risk a reprimand was because the dinner had gone so terribly wrong. Shock softened to concern as his arms lifted from his sides.

  “Come here, babe.”

  The hold on my tears broke as I hurried to the side of his bed. I sat on the edge, then bent forward to rest my head on his shoulder. “My brother hates me.”

  There was a lot to be upset about tonight. But that . . . suddenly, that rose to the top of the list.

  I’d hoped that with Denny moving here, we could build a relationship. That even though we hadn’t been close as kids, maybe we’d be close as adults.

  “He doesn’t hate you.” Milo’s hand cupped the back of my head. “In time, he’ll see that you only want what’s best.”

  “What if he doesn’t get help?”

  “That’s not on you.”

  I nodded, letting a few more tears wet his gown before pulling myself together. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks needed. For whatever you need, I’m here.”

  I took a deep breath, pulling in the rest of my emotions. Then I scrunched up my nose and stood. “I smell like smoke.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Ugh.” I took a step back, wishing I had a hair tie to get my stinky hair up and out of the way. When I looked back to Milo, he was grinning as he looked me up and down. “What?”

  “You’re in jeans.”

  “Uh, yeah.” I dropped my gaze, checking to make sure there weren’t salad stains all over. When Denny had thrown the salad bowl, a few dressing-coated leaves of romaine had flown my way, but I was clean.

  “I’ve never seen you in jeans before. I’ve never seen you in anything but scrubs.”

  “Oh.” I smiled. “Truth be told, I don’t own many jeans. I prefer scrubs or yoga pants on the weekend.”

  “They look”—Milo’s eyes flared as he swallowed hard—“good.”

  I blushed and dropped my chin. How many compliments would it take for me to feel worthy of his sweet sentiments? I hoped I’d get the chance to find out.

  “Turn around.”

  My eyes snapped up. “Huh?”

  “Turn around. I want to see your ass.”

  “Oh my God.” I laughed, rolling my eyes. Leave it to Milo to know I was feeling insecure. “No way.”

  “Come on.” He placed his hand on his heart. “For an injured man?”

  “Please.” I shook my head. “You’re fine.”

  “What if I lied and said I wanted to see your hair? Then would you turn around?”

  “Fine.” I spun around, then planted my hands on my hips. “Happy now?”

  He nodded. “You have a very nice, rounded, firm, beautiful . . . head.”

  “Thank you.” We laughed together.

&n
bsp; “Like I said, whatever you need.”

  I blew out a long breath and glanced around the darkened room. The only light came from the bathroom and television. “Did they do your last check for the night?”

  “Yep. The night shift hasn’t been coming in unless I call for something. That’s one perk of me getting closer to breaking free from here. You people will let me sleep all night.”

  “Us people—your dedicated nursing staff—just want to make sure you are healthy.”

  “Sit with me.” Milo scooted over, making room on the bed.

  I smelled like smoke and was emotionally worn out. Even though the night shift wouldn’t wake Milo to check his grafts or vitals, they were likely peeking in at night while he was asleep. Except the night shift didn’t start for two hours. We probably had a bit before anyone would bother us.

  So I set my keys and phone aside and slid into his bed, letting him put his arm around my shoulders as I snuggled into his side. I made sure to keep my arms tucked close to me so as not to brush up against his stomach. And then I closed my eyes, relaxing into his warmth.

  The soft brush of Milo’s lips on my forehead made me smile and I tipped my head up, stretching my neck so he could kiss my lips too.

  We lay together, not really watching the TV as we cuddled, occasionally sharing a kiss. Until the movie he’d been watching was over and the white credits rolled on a black screen.

  “I should drive home,” I murmured, making no move to get off the bed.

  Milo tucked me deeper into his side. “Just five more minutes.”

  “Ahem.”

  Milo and I jerked awake at the throat clearing. I sat up straight, blinking away sleep.

  Oh, God. Damn it! We’d fallen asleep. I searched for the clock. It was three in the morning. Shit.

  I flew off the bed, keeping my eyes on the floor. Michelle, one of the night-shift nurses, was staring at us with her hands on her hips. I couldn’t look at her, not when my face was crimson with shame.

  How could I have been so stupid? How could I have fallen asleep?

  “Sara.” Milo reached for me but I stepped farther away from the bed.

  I couldn’t look at him either.

  I grabbed the keys and my phone from the side table and blew past Michelle into the hallway. It was dark, the overhead lights dimmed. I didn’t bother with the elevator, not wanting to stand and wait for it to come up. Instead, I rushed down the stairs. Every step echoed in the stairwell, the rhythm of my footsteps like a hammering punishment.

  I’d fallen asleep in a patient’s bed, with a patient.

  I was so getting fired.

  Fired. Fired. Fired.

  That word rang over and over in my mind as I got in my car and drove the three blocks home. My phone rang with Milo’s name on the screen as I walked inside my condo. I ignored it, flipping on the lights and going for my bedroom.

  There would be no more sleep, not tonight.

  The few hours I’d slept next to Milo had been so blissful. So peaceful. But had they been worth it?

  Amber wouldn’t keep me on her staff. It was against policy for a hospital staff member to get involved with a patient. We weren’t talking gray area here. This was black and white. An offense Michelle was obligated to report, if she hadn’t already.

  If I’d found Kym asleep with a patient in his bed, I would have reported it too. Probably. Maybe.

  I wasn’t sure.

  My moral compass had been turned upside down these past couple months. Before Milo, I would never have imagined myself falling for a patient. But here I was, undeniably in love with Milo Phillips.

  This love came with consequences.

  I sat on my bed, watching the clock on the nightstand tick along until it was time for me to take a shower and get ready for work.

  I’d find a new nursing job. Probably. Maybe.

  Regardless, the job I’d come to love and cherish, the job that had brought me pride beyond measure and had filled the lonely void in my life, the job that made me shine.

  That job was gone.

  Was it worth it?

  Amber was seated at a chair in the nurses station when I arrived on the burn-unit floor. She didn’t say a word as she stood and nodded for me to follow her toward the staff lounge.

  We passed Michelle in the hallway on the way, and this time, she was the one unable to make eye contact. I kept my chin held high and my shoulders straight.

  In the hours I’d sat on my bed, I’d come to terms with what would happen.

  I was about to lose my job. Sure, things would have been better if Milo and I had just remained friends until his release from the hospital. But there was no use regretting the past.

  We live with the choices we make.

  Dad had told me that from his own hospital bed three days before he’d died.

  I’d been upset and crying, wishing I had made him quit smoking. He’d refused to let me shoulder the blame.

  You didn’t light them for me, Sara. This is on me.

  We live with the choices we make.

  We died with them too.

  Amber gestured me into the room and we sat around the same table we had when she’d told me to stay away from Milo’s room. But this time, my hands didn’t shake. My heart wasn’t racing. I wasn’t nervous.

  I was numb.

  She leaned her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together. Amber was probably only ten years older than I was, but her commanding presence made it seem like more. She managed a lot of nurses, and from the day I’d met her, I’d known she wasn’t one to beat around the bush. In her black blazers and with her hair always pinned up in a bun, she had a pleasant face when she smiled. But more often than not, she looked like this: serious. Older than a woman in her early thirties.

  “You spent the night with a patient,” she said.

  “I came to visit Milo. We were watching TV and fell asleep.”

  “I thought we’d agreed you were going to stay away from him until he was no longer a patient.”

  I nodded. This was probably the time to start defending myself but I stayed quiet.

  Amber let out a long breath. “I talked to Dr. Vernon first thing this morning. Milo is on track to be discharged in a week. I think the best thing is to shuffle the schedule and give you some time off. Take the next week with vacation time, then come back when he’s no longer a patient.”

  I blinked at her, waiting for more, but she remained quiet. “Wait. You’re not firing me?”

  “No.” She gave me an exasperated smile. “You’re not fired. Yet. But this is a warning. I will have to make a note of this in your employee file. It’s against policy to have a romantic relationship with a patient. Now, you could argue there is nothing romantic happening. This is a friendship. No one has seen you engage in a kiss, for example. But . . .”

  We both knew that would be a lie. “I understand.”

  “Please don’t make me regret this decision.”

  “I won’t.”

  Amber tapped the table twice, like a judge rapping his gavel to dismiss court. Then she stood and left me reeling in the lounge.

  I wasn’t fired.

  An official black mark would go into my file, but I wasn’t fired. So why didn’t I feel more relieved? I’d been so prepared to start a job hunt. A blemish on my perfect employment record almost seemed worse than being terminated, like a scarlet letter sewed into my scrub top.

  Would everyone know? Would I be watched more closely now?

  I’d never once gotten detention as a kid. I’d never been sent to the principal’s office. I’d never gotten a grade below a B+. This warning should have bothered me more. But as I let it sink in, as I weighed it versus having Milo in my life, I’d take the black mark on my record every time.

  Was it worth it?

  Yes.

  I wasn’t sorry.

  And I couldn’t wait to tell Milo.

  He’d called me five times last night and I’d ignored them all, only lis
tening to his single voicemail message.

  I’m sorry. Call me.

  The second I walked off hospital property, I was calling him. It was so tempting to go to his room, but I wasn’t pressing my luck.

  Leaving the lounge, I went to the locker room to grab the jacket I’d left in there last week. If I had a week off, I wanted to take it home and add it to my laundry pile. With it in hand, I closed my locker and pushed through the door. Only I didn’t take another step. Instead, I froze, sucking in a sharp breath at the angry glare waiting just outside the door.

  Dr. Vernon was standing in the hallway, his arms crossed and his back pressed up against the wall.

  He’d been staring at the door.

  Waiting for me.

  “Oh, um . . . hi. I was just leaving. So I’d better . . . go.” I pointed down the hallway to where the lighting was brighter.

  I took one step but stopped when Dr. Vernon surged.

  He crossed the hallway like a lightning bolt, forcing me to shuffle backward. The door to the locker room hadn’t quite closed and he crowded me through. I retreated, nearly stumbling as I scurried around the bench.

  I was out of room to run.

  Dr. Vernon came at me like a lion stalking his prey until he’d trapped me against the bay of lockers. His hands slammed into their doors. The noise of shaking metal and rattling padlocks made me jump. Even as I yelped, he kept his arms bracketing my face, trapping me there as he bent low.

  His nose brushed against the tip of mine. His hot breath skidded over my cheek.

  I stiffened, ready for him to yell or curse or call me names. I wasn’t sure what I expected.

  It certainly wasn’t a kiss.

  He smashed his lips on mine so hard I winced. He licked my lip and I stayed frozen, my hands glued to my sides as I held my breath.

  Then he was gone, backing away as he ran his hands through his hair.

  Oh my God. He kissed me. The wetness from his tongue was on my lips. The bruising sensation of his mouth made mine hurt.

  He kissed me.

  And I did nothing.

  I swallowed, sucking in some air through my nose. I was too scared to open my mouth and get a hint of his taste. And I didn’t dare wipe the kiss away, not with him stalking back and forth by the bench like a caged animal.