Sweethearts Old

by Rachel A Andersen

  Worry gnawed in the back of her mind. Weren’t they just going for an ice cream cone?

  She pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Ma’am, this is Officer Jared Keegan with the Denver Police Department.”

  Marissa’s heart skipped a beat as she sank onto a barstool at the kitchen counter. “Yes?”

  The mere phone call produced a flood of memories she had no desire to process right now. “May I please speak with Marissa Lambert?”

  He’s dead. My little boy’s dead.

  Despite the anxiety building in her, she kept her voice steady. “This is she.”

  “Ma’am, there’s been an accident.”

  Though the police officer gave her details of the accident, her body was set too far on edge to let her process the details. Something about a car that had caught Declan’s van when it didn’t check that the intersection was clear after the lights changed. Apparently, this had all been complicated by the moisture on the roads in the falling temperatures.

  She felt sick. “My son. Is my son all right?”

  “Your son and the other passengers are on their way via ambulance to the UCH emergency room. I can send an officer to pick you up and take you there if you’d like.”

  Her brain was in a fog. Aiden, Declan, Luke...were they okay?

  “I can make it. I just need to know—how bad is it?”

  The officer swallowed. “All I can say is that there are no fatalities, ma’am.”

  Not yet, anyway.

  “Thank you, officer.” She didn’t remember when she had stood, only now realizing that she’d already grabbed her cell phone and her keys as she opened the garage door. “Thanks for the call.”

  She didn’t even bother dropping the handheld phone into the house as she grabbed her coat. Instead, she dropped it in her purse and put her cell phone to her ear. “Call Cassie.”

  It was only a ten-minute drive to the hospital, but that was enough to fuel her frustration with the other cars on the road. Knowing that someone’s poor observation of traffic laws had put her son in the hospital was enough to make the drive all the more irritating.

  She tapped on the steering wheel to release the tension. “Come on, Cassie, pick up.”

  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of Dr. Cassandra Lambert. Please leave a detailed message, and I’ll return your call as soon as possible.”

  Marissa gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “Cassie, it’s me. I’m headed to the Emergency Room. Apparently, Aiden was in a car accident after his football game. Call me back.”

  She pressed the end call button only to dial the number again. Maybe getting a half-dozen calls in the space of five minutes would be enough to get Cassie’s attention.

  What had she been thinking to let Aiden go with Declan for ice cream? Why hadn’t she just gone with them?

  Don’t go there.

  She’d placed three more unsuccessful calls to her sister as she raced into the emergency room waiting room and up to the reception desk.

  The nurse at the desk hardly looked up from the computer terminal. “What’s your name and what are your symptoms?”

  Marissa batted the question away with her hand. “My son was in an accident. He’s only eight. I was told he was being brought here.”

  “Name?”

  “Aiden Lambert.”

  She rattled off her son’s personal information as the nurse typed it into the computer.

  A woman with graying blond hair in the waiting room stood and walked over to the counter. “I’m sorry. Did I hear that right? Your son’s name is Aiden, and he was in a car accident?”

  Marissa turned to the woman, trying to find some evidence that they ran in the same circles. Though her features seemed familiar, she wasn’t able to place the face. “Yes? Do you know something?”

  The woman’s face lined with pain, and understanding clicked. “You must be Helen. You’re here for Luke and Declan?”

  The woman bobbed her head, her blue eyes watering.

  Marissa grabbed the woman’s hand, desperate. “Please. Are they okay? Do you know?”

  Though Helen seemed a strong enough woman, she almost trembled with worry. “I’ll know more when they let me back there, but I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  Marissa squeezed the woman’s frigid hand. “My sister’s a doctor, so I know they won’t let me see Declan because I’m not family. I don’t know how Aiden’s doing, but if I know Declan, he’ll worry.”

  The woman took a deep breath, apparently strengthening herself against some likely unpleasant task. “If they won’t let you see Declan, tell them to talk to me. I’ll get you a minute with him.”

  Marissa’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

  She nodded. “You’ve made him happier in the last few weeks than he’s been for a long time. We love him enough to be happy for him. Angie would have hated to see how he pulled into himself after she died.”

  Impulsively, Marissa crushed the woman in a hug. “I wish I could have met your daughter. She sounds lovely.”

  Helen took a moment before she leaned into the embrace with a squeeze of her own. “As do you, dear.”

  “MOM?”

  Marissa raced to the bed without thanking the attendant who had brought her. She kissed the top of Aiden’s head before she scanned him for any sign of injury. Though she knew it was probably just a precaution, her heart rate sped up when she caught sight of Aiden’s neck brace. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

  He shrugged with only one arm. “I’m fine, Mom.”

  Her gaze zeroed in on the arm he didn’t move, her stomach doing somersaults at the sight of the deep purple color which ran the length of what she could see of his splinted arm. “What happened to your arm? Is it broken? How’s your head?”

  She rested her palm on his forehead, hoping to reassure them both that he was alive and relatively well.

  “My neck hurts a little. How about you? How’s your headache?”

  Marissa waved his concern away. “I’m fine. Glad to see you’re safe.”

  “Mom, did they tell you about Declan and Luke? Are they okay?”

  Marissa tried to ignore the worry that still gnawed at her. She had no right to worry the way she did for them. “I ran into Luke’s grandma in the waiting room. She said she’ll try to get us a minute to see them.”

  Marissa kissed Aiden’s forehead again as twenty-year-old memories swirled in her mind, triggered by the day’s events. It was all she could do to keep from collapsing into the chair and sobbing.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  The eight-year-old’s lip trembled. “I was so scared.”

  She pulled him into a hug, careful not to make his injuries worse. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sure you were. But you’re safe now. I promise you’re safe.”

  It was only a moment later before the doctor pushed back the curtain and joined them. “Aiden’s mother, I presume?”

  She extended her hand in greeting. “Yeah. Marissa. How is he?”

  “Well, we’re going to take him in for some x-rays. He complained about his neck and arm. The arm was obviously broken, but the neck, we’ll need to check on before we remove the brace.”

  “Of course.”

  The doctor turned from Marissa and back to Aiden. “How’s your pain on a scale from one to ten?”

  Aiden shifted in his seat, and his face turned a ghostly shade of white as he jostled his injured arm. “Uh...six?”

  The doctor nodded. “I’ll have someone bring you something for the pain. Once that has time to kick in, I’ll send a tech to get you for your imaging, kid. Think you can be brave for me?”

  Aiden nodded.

  The doctor, an older gentleman who was graying at the temples, caught Marissa’s eye. “Why don’t you sit down? I imagine you’ve had an exciting trip yourself.”

  Marissa bobbed her head mechanically as she shifted her purse so she could sit beside Aiden in the non
descript armchair next to his bed.

  “Someone will be back to check on you in a bit, okay?”

  the doctor walked out.

  AS AIDEN WENT FOR HIS x-rays, Marissa walked to the nurse’s station. “Excuse me?”

  Four pairs of eyes turned to her. “Yes?”

  “Uh, my son was in a car accident. They brought him in with a man, Declan Pierce, and another boy, Luke. Can I see them? Are they okay?”

  A curvy nurse in bright pink scrubs, her black hair pulled back tight in a knot at the crown of her head, studied Marissa. “Are you family?”

  She pondered whether lying right now would be wrong. Then again, if one didn’t have one’s integrity, what did they have? “No, but my son Aiden was in the car with them. I know Declan will worry— ”

  The blond woman in her late fifties from the waiting room, dressed in dark slacks and a sweater, stepped out of one of the side rooms with little Luke by her side. “They just admitted Declan. He’s in room 249.”

  Marissa’s heart swelled in gratitude.

  Luke tiptoed to her, his bright blue eyes wide in concern. “Marissa?”

  Marissa dropped onto her knees in front of the boy. “Hi, Luke. Are you hurt?”

  Just like she had with her own son, she inspected him for any trace of injury.

  The four-year-old shook his head. “Where’s Aiden?”

  “He’ll be back soon, but I thought I’d go see your dad.”

  Without warning, the little boy threw his arms around her neck and buried his face in her shoulder, sobs racking his miniature frame.

  Marissa looked up at Helen, a little embarrassed that the boy had sought comfort from her instead of from his grandmother. Still, she comforted the boy to the best of her ability.

  Luke wiped at his face with the back of his hand as he stepped away from her and back toward Helen. “Can you tell Aiden I hope he feels better?”

  Marissa squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Absolutely.”

  MARISSA’S HEART POUNDED with each step down the corridor, further and further away from her own son. Something told her that the hospital would only have admitted Declan if his injuries were worse than either of the boys.

  That was how it had been with her father. Her mother had died at the scene of their accident, but her father had taken almost three days in the hospital before he followed her. He’d arrived at the hospital unconscious, never waking even for a moment before he succumbed to the extent of his injuries.

  Panic clawed at Marissa’s throat.

  She didn’t know what she would do if she had to relive this chapter of her life, didn’t know if she could handle Declan leaving her alone this way. Not when they had so much they still hadn’t said to each other.

  Room 249.

  She raised her hand to knock as her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Cassie.

  She hadn’t even lifted the phone completely to her ear before her sister started talking. “How is he?”

  Marissa swallowed. “Aiden’s going to be fine. He’s getting x-rays right now.”

  “Are you okay? Did the team go out for ice cream or—”

  Marissa pressed a finger to her temple, having difficulty following her sister’s frenetic inquiry. “Cassie, stop. Calm down. Aiden went with Declan and his son, Luke, for ice cream. I’m actually outside Declan’s room right now. Since they wouldn’t let me go with Aiden for his x-rays, I thought I’d take a chance to update Declan since I don’t want him to worry.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

  Marissa’s heart rate slowed. “I’ll call you back when Aiden is discharged, okay?”

  Cassie took a long, deep breath. “I’m just glad he’s okay. You know the drill. If you need someone to help liaise with the doctor, call me.”

  Marissa lifted her other hand to take the phone and drop it into her purse. “I will. Love you.”

  She didn’t wait for her sister to bid farewell before she knocked twice and poked her head around the door. “Declan?”

  There was no answer as she peeked around the curtain and got her first glimpse of him in the bed. She had to stop herself from gasping at all the monitors beeping around him.

  He looked awful, some cuts to his arms and face, one above his eyebrow which she suspected would give him a bit of a pirate-y scar. They’d bandaged his chest, and she wondered if it was because of some injury to his ribs or if he had been cut there, too.

  Marissa pressed a hand to her sternum, the pain of seeing Declan like this almost too much to bear. Still, even as her heart fluttered with anxiety, she stepped forward. She was no longer a girl, inexperienced with the complexities of life and unacquainted with grief. Now, she was a woman, and she could do this.

  Chapter Twelve

  Declan

  Awareness came slowly, from the beeping of the monitors to the light knock on the door to the hesitant shuffle of rubber soles on tile. Then, a weight on the bed beside him. One warm hand caressing the hand that had the IV in the back of it. Another hand reaching up and brushing his cheek. “Declan?”

  He’d lived this before. Twenty years ago, he’d awoken from a medication-induced slumber to hear that voice, warm with compassion and tinged with worry, speak his name. “Marissa?”

  He opened his eyes, but his vision swam for a moment before it finally adjusted. Her ponytail seemed to have slipped, and for a second, he wondered if it was just the outward sign of her worry. Then, he remembered she’d claimed a headache when he’d taken Aiden. Maybe her hair had gotten mussed while she slept, and she just hadn’t had time to fix it.

  Not that she wasn’t still beautiful. More beautiful, in fact, given that he hadn’t been sure only an hour ago, if he would ever see her again.

  Her fingers barely dusted his skin, as if she couldn’t tell which of his lacerations to caress first. She dropped the hand not holding his to her side and turned her attention to his eyes. “Hi.”

  He frowned and glanced at the door. “They let you in? I thought—only family—”

  She squeezed his fingers gently. “Helen told me what room you were in.”

  He groaned and pressed one hand to his bruised and broken ribs as he tried to sit up. “You met Helen?”

  Marissa’s brown eyes clouded with worry as she watched his every movement. “Yes. By the reception desk.”

  “She’s an outstanding woman.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  The room was unlit with even the blinds drawn, and he was grateful for that. Given the way his head pounded with his movements, he suspected that if there was even the tiniest bit more light filtering in, he’d be in for a world of hurt.

  He blinked away his concern over his own pain as he looked Marissa in the eye. “How’s Aiden?”

  “He’s getting some x-rays. They know he broke his arm, but they want to make sure he didn’t injure his neck and spine as well.”

  Declan closed his eyes in self-deprecation and leaned back against his pillows, the pain of his injuries creating a new kinship with the boy. “Marissa, I’m sorry. You trusted me, and I—”

  “Declan, look at me.”

  He forced his eyes open again.

  When her face finally came into focus, he could see the seriousness of her expression, her mauve lips firm and her brown eyes steadfast. Her hand rested firmly on his shoulder. “This was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. It could have just as easily been me. Frankly, even the doctors thought Aiden’s neck and spine would be fine. They’re just being cautious.”

  Declan shifted, and Marissa’s hand dropped from his arm as if she caused his discomfort. She even tried to let go of his fingers, but he managed to keep hold of those. “Did you hear? They’re keeping me overnight for observation. Apparently, I have a concussion.”

  Her eyes didn’t rise to meet his gaze. “I suspected once I realized you weren’t in the ER anymore.”

  It must have been the fog of his head injury, either that or the pain killers they were pumping through him for his broken ribs, but it
only now clicked why she was so withdrawn.

  “Your parents. Riss, I’m sorry. This must be awful for you.”

  She offered him a humorless attempt at a smile. “I’ve had better days.”

  He squeezed her fingers, hoping to communicate camaraderie.

  She watched their entwined hands, working something out in her mind before she spoke. “Declan, I don’t want to make the same mistake I made twenty years ago.”

  He raised an eyebrow, wincing when he remembered the decent-sized cut at the height of the brow. Then he turned his attention back to Marissa. “What mistake are you talking about?”

  She puffed out a breath. “My dad and I were in the middle of an argument when he died. We both said things we didn’t mean, and we could never resolve it.”

  That fog clouded his reasoning again, and his vision blurred. “Riss?”

  She swallowed. “It’s the actual reason I gave up music. Dad wanted me to get a degree in something more stable as a backup, but I couldn’t pick my violin up after that. It was the symbol of long-lost dreams..”

  He gripped her hand as he tried to sit up. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “Because the police suspected that my dad was at fault for the accident, that he was a distracted driver. According to their timeline, I’d just gotten off the phone with my dad before he got in the car. I’d hung up on him after I told him it was my life, and I would do what I wanted with it.”

  Even the pain of his broken ribs didn’t compare with the way his heart ached for her. “And the day after his funeral, I pushed you not to give up your music.”

  Her façade crumbled as she wiped her eye with the heel of her palm. “Such a stupid reason to break up with you, right? I mean, I meant all the other stuff, but then you were talking about getting married, and everything was changing so fast. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry you back then, it was that I didn’t want it to be for the wrong reason, to salvage the only dream left standing in the wake of my parents’ deaths. Is that silly?”