by Fredrick, MJ
“Well, okay. Let me know.”
“Yes, sure.” Her throat was already tightening in anticipation, and she disconnected. She checked her battery life and called for her mom.
A few minutes later she was on the road and peering into the distance as she drove slowly. The rain was pounding now, and ponding on the road, and she was so anxious. She hoped against hope to see Beck’s truck coming toward her, but it wasn’t. She made the turn onto the road leading into town, her palms sweaty on the wheel, her knuckles white as she had to adjust her vision to the day road.
God, she was only going thirty miles an hour, so she put on her flashers. She didn't see any other traffic on the road, though, thank God, and she drove as fast as she felt comfortable.
And then she saw it, the headlights off the side of the road, angled against the barbed wire fence. Yes, it was Beck. Beck’s truck was on its side. Her heart did one hard slam against her ribs, then stopped completely.
She swerved across the road and put her car into park, scrambled out the door into the rain. She was drenched by the time she got her door closed, and was sliding down the slight incline, in the sparse vegetation, the wet caliche dirt sticking to her legs below her yoga pants. The slide hurt her stomach, and she had to pause a moment to catch her breath before she screamed Beck’s name.
The truck was sitting on the passenger side, so she ran to the front of the truck and tried to see in through the windshield, but the glass was webbed and hard to see. The glare from the headlights made it even harder. She could only see that the airbag had deployed, but she couldn't see Beck. Couldn't see him at all.
She didn't know what to do. She should have called the sheriff’s department as soon as she got here. She ran back to the car for the phone, falling on her hands and knees hard enough to jar the breath out of her, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, then she clawed her way up to the car.
She couldn't unlock her phone with her wet thumbprint, so had to waste the time to type in her code and finally got through to Meredith.
“Hey, I found his truck.” She gave him the last mile marker she’d passed. “Can you send someone? It’s on its side. I don't know if I can get him out.”
“No, maybe you shouldn’t try. We’ll send someone as soon as possible.”
“How long do you think that will be?”
“I just can’t say. I’ll call them and see if they have anyone they can spare and send them to you.”
“I’m not going to wait. Can you call Austin? Dr. Driscoll? Have him meet me?” She disconnected, and thought about calling Mrs. Conover, but she decided to wait until she knew what was happening. She tossed her phone back on the drivers’ seat, aware she wouldn't hear any return calls, but she didn't have a pocket in her yoga pants, and she needed to see how Beck was.
Damn, this truck was big, she thought when she reached the ditch. Maybe she could climb up on the undercarriage and look into the window, maybe get the door open?
She couldn't imagine how he was positioned in there. Was he hanging by his seatbelt? The idea gave her some urgency, and she was glad she’d worn her sneakers. In the blinking lights of her car’s hazards, she started to climb. But she slipped a couple of times, banging her shin against the underside of the truck as she lost her footing, gripping the runner of the truck to hold herself up. She didn't even have the breath to call for him, didn't have the upper body strength to pull herself up on the side of the truck.
The bottom of the truck was still warm, but not hot. Cooled by the rain, possibly. But he hadn’t been like this long.
And then she was stretched out on the drivers side door, wiping rain from the window so she could look inside.
God. Was he moving? She couldn't tell. She pounded on the glass, and thought she saw his head move on the airbag, but it was so hard to tell, since it was getting darker, and the water on the windshield distorted everything.
She slithered onto the rear of the cab, and using the last of her strength, opened the truck door, flinging it up, holding her hand up in case gravity brought it back down. Once she was sure it was stable, she reached in and touched his face. Warm. Sticky. Shit.
“Beck! Beck!”
“Lace? Geez.” He tried to lift his head from the airbag and she gripped his shirt.
“No, don’t. The truck is on its side. Beck. What’s hurt?”
“Everything. Man, everything.”
“Anything broken?”
“I don’t—I can’t feel anything.”
How long had he been constrained? Please, God, let that be the only reason he couldn't feel anything. Why hadn’t anyone come by now?
“Just—just hang on. I called the sheriff and they called Austin. They should all be here soon. Beck, God.”
“What are you...?” He tried to turn his head to look at her. “Am I sideways?”
“Yes, the truck’s on its side.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m.” She pushed her wet hair out of her face, aware the rain was pouring in on him now, too. “I’m on the back door.”
“How did you get there?”
“We’ll talk about it later.” Right now she was trying to figure out how she was going to get down, and seriously, how did she get up here?
“Lace. You’re soaked. You’re going to get—God, Lace.”
“Sh. Sh. We’ll talk later, as soon as we get you out of here. But for now, I’m just going to wait here with you. I wish I knew how to get you out of there, but I have to wait for help.”
“I’ll be okay. You go wait in your car. Your car is here?”
“I’ll wait here.” She didn't want to tell him she was scared to get down. But the rain was cold, as was the truck beneath her. “Here comes someone. There’s lights coming. Someone’s coming.” Finally. Help.
Austin was the first to arrive, then Javi. First they helped Lacey down from the top of the truck, and she went to her car to call Mrs. Conover first, then her own mother, as Austin and Javi worked together to get Beck out of the truck without causing further injury. Once he was out of the truck, she disconnected the phone and hurried over to his side.
He looked terrible, blood matting his hair, his arm hanging at an odd angle.
“What do you think, Austin?”
“I think shock, concussion, for sure. Probably dislocated shoulder. We’ll get him to my office, give him a good look. What about you? You hurt?”
“No, I don't think so.” She hurt so many places, but nothing threatening.
“Can you drive yourself to my place? I’ll look you both over there.”
She nodded, and stumbled back up the incline to her car. She turned the heater on high, but still shivered all the way into town. Her breasts were starting to ache. She needed to get home to the babies soon. She had expressed some milk that her mother could use, but she needed to get home soon. Torn, she parked her car and followed Austin and Javi, supporting Beck between them, into the doctor’s office.
Austin flipped on all the lights and started helping Beck out of his wet clothes, before he looked over his shoulder at Lacey.
“Go up to my apartment and take a warm shower. There’s some basketball shorts and t-shirts you can wear when you’re done.”
She shook her head, as good as that sounded. She needed other supplies that she wasn't going to ask for, though she was sure he probably had what she needed down here. “I have to go home soon. I want to make sure Beck is okay.”
Austin gave her a look. “At least get those wet clothes off and change. You can’t get sick. Your babies need you.”
She looked from him to Javi to Beck, and acquiesced, heading up the stairs he indicated to the apartment above.
He’d lived here over a month and still had things in boxes—how did he even have this much stuff if he’d been in med school?—but she found a change of clothes and towels. She toweled off her hair, stripped off her heavy wet t-shirt and dragged her clinging yoga pants down her legs. Shivering, she dried the rest
of herself off and wished she could jump in that shower.
After she saw how Beck was doing, and after she fed her babies, she was going to take the longest, hottest shower in the history of Texas.
She was still patting her hair dry when she came downstairs and heard a shout from Beck. She stumbled, caught herself on the handrail and hurried down into the exam room.
“What happened?” she asked, rounding the corner to see Beck swaying on the exam table, his face white as Austin and Javi stepped away.
“Dislocated shoulder, not dislocated anymore,” Austin said.
Lacey put her hand on her own shoulder in sympathy.
“Anything else?”
“We’re going to do some x-rays, and I’m going to stitch up that gash in his forehead. Let me look you over, then I’m sending you home to your kids.”
She looked from Beck to Austin, and back to Beck. She knew Austin was right. He motioned for her to climb up on the exam table next to Beck, who reached over with his good hand and covered her hand with his.
“None of that,” Austin said, his tone stern. “Let’s see your hands.”
She turned them over for his inspection, and for the first time, noticed the scrapes on her knuckles. Austin made a noise in his throat and reached for the cotton to clean them before he saw her skinned knees and scraped shins.
“This cut is pretty deep. What happened?”
She shook her head as she looked to see the bloody scratch. “I don't know.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to give you some butterfly bandages. Are you up to date on your tetanus?”
“I got one about eight years ago, so, yes.”
“Okay. Good. Let’s get this cleaned up, then, Javi, you can take her home?”
“I can drive myself,” she said. “I have my car. Maybe Javi can drive Beck home when you’re done?”
“I gotta get back,” Javi said, gesturing to the door. “I just stayed to stabilize him while Austin put his shoulder back together. It’s pretty bad. Some of the people are being airlifted to San Angelo.” Javi stopped short of slapping Beck on his good shoulder. “You were lucky, man.”
“I’ll get him home, then stand by for the injuries from that accident,” Austin said.
Javi shook his head. “No, man. We won’t be needing you.”
“What about the people who aren’t being airlifted?” Lacey asked.
Javi met her gaze, his own expression solemn. “They won’t be needing a doctor.”
A moment passed before she got his meaning, and she lifted a hand to her mouth in shock. Beck took that hand and pulled her close to him, between his legs as he sat on the exam table. He bent his head to hers and breathed her in for a long minute.
“Javi, I’m sorry,” Beck said over her head.
“Yeah, thanks, man. At least I’ve had one happy ending today. I’ll talk to y’all soon.”
Beck loosened his hold on Lacey. “Go home to the babies. Austin will take me home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She frowned, disappointment that he would go home to his place instead of coming to hers. She didn't want to leave him, but her body was telling her she needed to take care of her babies. “All right. Call me with the results of the x-rays, or if you have to go to San Angelo.”
“Lacey,” he said as she turned to walk out the door. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
She crossed the room, took his face in her hands, and kissed him hard, not caring that Austin and Javi were right there.
“I just found you. I’m not going to lose you now.”
LACEY WAS JUST TOWELING off after a long hot shower, when she heard voices in the living room. She dressed as quickly as she could and hurried into the other room to see her mother and Beck sitting on the couch, Beck holding Emily though his other arm was in a sling.
He looked up and smiled when she appeared in the doorway, pushing her hair back from her face.
“You got the all-clear? I thought you were going home?”
“I was, but I decided I’d rather be here with you and the babies. I came all this way for you, anyway.”
She sat in the chair, on the edge because the tension she’d washed from her body had returned. “What did Austin say?”
“He said I’m really lucky that I had a brave woman who risked everything to come after me.”
“I was so scared. You didn't come and you didn't come, and then your mom called. I didn't know what else to do.”
“Lace, Austin showed me how you climbed up the truck to get to me.”
“I told you, I didn’t know what else to do.”
He shifted Emily on his lap so he could reach over and take her hand. “I know how you hate that weather, driving in that weather.”
“Doubly, now,” she said with a rough laugh.
“Are you okay?” he asked, dropping his gaze to the butterfly bandages on her shin.
“I’m fine. I’m going to be fine.” She touched her fingers to the stitches along his hairline. “You’ve got to be tired. Why don't I make up my bed for you, and you can get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”
“No, thanks, sweetheart, but your mom said she’d take me home. You get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Awkwardly, with one hand, he transferred Emily to Lacey’s arms, kissed Emily’s forehead, then Lacey’s lips before he headed toward the door.
“I’ll be right back,” her mom said.
“Be careful,” Lacey said. “I’ve done my rescue for the day.”
Her mother raised her hand in acknowledgement before leading Beck outside.
Chapter Thirty One
LACEY WAS ENJOYING the one cup of coffee she allowed herself and looking longingly at her phone, waiting to hear how Beck was doing this morning, when she heard voices in the living room. Who was here so early, and why didn't they text first?
She was just starting to get up when Poppy and Ginny walked into the room, followed by her mother, who was already dressed.
Lacey frowned when Poppy sat in the chair across from her, dropping a heavy bag to the floor beside her. Ginny sat beside her.
“Y’all aren’t here to see the babies, I hope, because they are asleep.”
“I would love to see your babies,” Poppy said. “But we came here to pamper you.”
“To pamper me.” Lacey glanced at the clock above the sink. “At eight thirty in the morning.”
“Well, yes, we know Beck is in town and we thought you might want to fix yourself up for him.” Poppy reached down for her bag and dragged it onto the table. “We’re going to start with a manicure, and go from there.”
“Maybe a refreshing mask,” Joyce suggested as she poured cups of coffee for all of them. “She can wear that while she’s getting her nails done.”
“You don't know how to do a manicure,” Lacey accused, curling her fingers against her palms. “Have you ever even had a manicure?”
“I have not, but honestly, let’s just paint your nails.” Poppy brought out a bottle of pale pink nail polish and displayed it against her palm.
Lacey kept her fingers curled. “Beck doesn’t care if my nails are done.”
“Think how pretty it will show off your ring,” Ginny pointed out, ever the practical one.
Joyce delivered the coffee to their guests. “Let me just go get that mask.”
If Lacey had been more awake, she could have fended off this sudden interest in the way she presented herself to Beck.
“He’s seen me at my worst,” Lacey pointed out as her mother slapped the wet paper mask on her face and patted it down. “He doesn’t care.”
“Of course he doesn’t care,” Ginny said. “He loves you.”
“I mean, I don't understand the fuss.”
“Just let us do this for you,” Poppy said.
“I just thought of something we need at the store,” Joyce said. “Can I borrow your keys?”
“Can you—um, sure. What do we need?”
“Oh, just some
thing I need. I’ll be back.”
But before she heard the door open, she heard all kinds of commotion in the living room, and she braced herself for the babies’ cries. She would call out to ask what her mother was doing, but that could wake the babies, too.
Finally, she heard the door open and close, but a long time passed before she heard the engine of her car start.
“So tell us what happened last night. Javi said Beck had an accident? That you went out and found him?” Ginny said as she dug in Poppy’s bag.
“He flipped his truck. He’d been on the phone with his mom.” Man, talking with this mask on was a pain. She carefully slid it back into place while being careful not to mess up her wet nails. “She called me to find him, and I did, and stayed with him until Austin and Javi got there.”
Ginny had produced a curling iron and was searching for a place to plug it in. “But he’s okay?”
“He dislocated his shoulder, and had a bump on his head, but yeah, he’s okay. What are you doing?”
“I told you, we’re fixing you up for Beck.”
“He might not recognize me if you curl my hair. I haven't curled my hair since high school.”
“Beachy waves,” Ginny said, finding a plug, then waiting for Poppy to finish with her nails before she urged Lacey to her feet and dragged her chair closer to the counter. “I watched a YouTube on how to do it.”
“What is going on?” Lacey demanded. “I don't fix myself up for Beck.”
“But this is the first weekend he’s been back since you got engaged. It should be really special.”
“My hair is just going to get messed up when I take my nap later,” she warned as Ginny pulled a strand of hair away from her head and wrapped it around the curling iron. She’d been wearing it in a bun lately anyway, secured by a scrunchy.
“Should I do your toenails?” Poppy plopped on the floor in front of Lacey and grimaced at Lacey’s feet in her flip flops. “I think I better.”
“Remember, I couldn't reach my feet for months,” Lacey said.
“Remember,” Poppy echoed. “I’m an excellent friend.”