I spent a ridiculous amount of time rifling through the cupboards, most of them only half or a quarter-full. Adam was the epitome of a bachelor. Every recipe I tried was missing two or three ingredients. Not helpful and a fail. I scoured the pantry for something romantic. Anything. Ramen noodles. Instant rice. A loaf of bread. Spaghetti in a can. “Gross.” I scrunched my nose, none of them worthy of saying, “I love you”. And then I saw it. Score! A box of cheap brownie mix. Chocolate equated to love, right?
I listened to music and danced around the kitchen while the rain slapped against the windows. Droplets raced down the glass, competing against one another. The wind screamed like a banshee and the lights flickered as I cracked the last two eggs from the carton and added oil to a mixing bowl. One last step. I needed to measure out three tablespoons of water.
“Hmmm…if I were a measuring spoon, where would I be?” I fumbled through drawer after cupboard after shelf on the wraparound island, searching. The contents of a deep drawer abutting a stool at the breakfast bar made me forget about the measuring spoon. Inside, I saw a shoebox.
Even though I was certain no one else was home, I ridiculously looked around the room. Don’t do it, Blue. But curiosity got the best of me and I lifted the lid to peek inside. My lungs stopped working. A small velvet box.
* * *
Roughly A Little Over Two Years Ago
It was an early autumn evening when we walked through downtown Aberdeen. The city was far enough away from Steele Falls where Adam and I could be in public without the wrath of the momster. All of the sleepy shops were closing up for the night, owners bringing in their sandwich board signs and antique furniture from the sidewalk. Each of us held an ice cream cone in our hands from the old soda shop on Third Avenue.
Adam slowed in front of a massive glass window of a jewelry store. “Let’s go in here.”
I glanced at some of the price tags through the glass. So many commas and zeroes. Massive diamond solitaires spun slowly on a charcoal-colored display. Gaudy bracelets glinted with sapphires, emeralds, and rubies under the fluorescent lighting. There was nothing in the ritzy store Adam could afford on his income from Mario’s. And none of it was my simple style. The situation needed to diffuse. Fast.
“I don’t think so,” I replied. Giving Adam any ideas about going into debt on my behalf wasn’t on my agenda.
He looked hurt. “Why not?”
I scrambled for a reason, not wanting to offend him. “It’s three minutes until they close. I’m sure the old woman with the severe bun and the scowl at the counter wants to go home. We’ll go in next time.”
“Fine.” He smirked, throwing away the paper from his ice cream cone in a nearby trash can.
I smiled and wiped my hands with a napkin. “What’s the goofy look for?”
“So, someday,” he interlaced his fingers with mine, “when I propose, what kind of ring do you want?”
I bit my lip, my heart thumping wildly at the thought of Adam speculating about our future. “Doesn’t asking me defeat the purpose? It’s supposed to be a surprise, something you pick out.”
“Help a clueless guy out here.” He jabbed me playfully in the ribs. “Otherwise, you might end up with a piece of heart-shaped jewelry you hate.”
“Stop!” I giggled. “Seriously. You could make me a ring out of tin foil and I’d be happy because it’s from you.”
He gave me the look that he wasn’t going to let up until I gave him a real response.
I linked my arm through his as we walked along. “If you need a hint, go with non-traditional and simple. But in all honesty, all I want is your heart.”
* * *
I set the velvet clamshell aside without opening it.
A piece of paper was folded up in the shoebox. Again, I was nosy. My hands shook as I unfolded the thick sheet of watercolor paper, a detailed sketch of a puzzle piece inside. A charcoal-colored silhouette of a man and a woman in an embrace with explosions of pastel sunset in the background saturated the paper, AJR jotted at the bottom. It was dated with what would’ve been our anniversary. Adam Jacob Rockwell. I thought back to the bracelet of puzzle charms in my tote bag.
I scrunched my eyes shut and reached for the box twice, telling myself not to do it. But I had to know. My lungs stopped as I looked inside and stared at the ring, perching it between my thumb and index finger. The black metal of the band contrasted against a simple round sapphire set in the middle. What made it worse was knowing it was the right size before I even slid it onto my finger. A perfect fit.
All of it was too much, and emotion filled me from toe to head. I took the ring off and put it back in the box. Opening it felt like it belonged to someone else, in a different life, as if it weren’t intended for me. But it had been, once upon a time. The piece of jewelry was everything I’d asked for, but I deserved none of it. All I’d done was throw away the moment before it ever happened.
A crumpled piece of typing paper was nestled in the opposite corner of the box. You’d have thought I’d learned my lesson, but I kept diving deeper. The world around me stilled as I scoured the words, letting them soak in one-by-one.
Okay, Rockwell. This is your last-minute pep talk. It’s game day. Take a deep breath. Six months is officially up at six o’clock tonight, and you’re meeting her at seven. It’s taken you two months to put this proposal together. Don’t fuck it up. This is what you want. I know you’re scared of rejection, but if you don’t ask her now, someone else will later.
Blue fixed your heart.
Blue believed in you.
Blue made you realize there are things in life worth fighting for.
Blue showed you…
I clenched my jaw and wadded the paper back into its respective ball once again, unable finish reading it. It wasn’t fair. I was none of those things he’d written. All I’d done was broken him, let him down, and showed him the people you care about most will fail you.
I tossed the box down on the floor and screamed, cradling my head in my hands. “How did everything that should’ve been perfect get so fucked up?”
After my mini-tantrum, I looked at the box lying on its side. One more piece of paper was neatly folded into quarters that I hadn’t noticed before. “Might as well finish the pain off.” My heart ached as I unfolded it, afraid of what it said. Doodles of more puzzle pieces, faces, nature scenery, and stars decorated the margins. Random words had been scratched out and replaced throughout.
Blue,
The past six months of our relationship have challenged me us in ways I didn’t know possible. And what was supposed to break us apart has made us stronger. We were forced to hide, and I don’t want to can’t do it anymore. You’ve taught me about loyalty, trust, and honesty. I don’t know what I did to deserve you in this life, but I’m not about to let go. My world was gray, empty, and lifeless before you came into it. You’ve awakened something in me and shown me what it’s like to feel again.
It may not be the piece of tin foil you wanted, but you said the important part was giving you my heart.
Blue Ann Brennan, will you marry me?
I wasn’t sure which was harder to read: Adam’s proposal he’d written to me—the one that should’ve happened three hours after I left town. Or the pep talk he’d written for himself. His words were so loving, so pure. And then I’d gone and tainted the whole damn thing.
Knowing he was destroyed without me—before it even happened.
Knowing he was alone—when I hadn’t even left yet.
Knowing his heart was broken—when I was the one responsible for keeping it safe.
I’m not sure how long I sat on the floor and stared at that box. I’m not even sure I blinked while the sea of tears blurred my vision.
Silence became too much. I needed some kind of sound to combat the thoughts racing thro
ugh my head. Voices. Talking. Music wasn’t cutting it. To distract myself, I turned on channel four and watched the news. Cathy McPhee provided a grim update on the storm. It wasn’t letting up and the meteorologists underestimated its power as it converged with another system off the coast. The screen panned to a familiar commercial with Gonorrhea Guy. I flipped the TV off before he spoke his signature line.
Making all of my screws up better for Adam was going to be harder than I anticipated. All I could do was show him I was everything he thought I once was. Prove to him I was worthy. The clock read five until six. At any moment, the front door would open and we could pick up where we left off. I was giddy, like a little kid waiting for Christmas.
Forcing the contents from my head, I put away the box and busied myself with making dinner. My options were limited as I used the opener to empty an off-brand can of chili into a pot. A few minutes later, I covered the bowls with foil and placed them on the table. It might not have been gourmet, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was who’d be sitting across from me. Candles lit. Wine poured. Napkins folded—in the fancy way we’d learned at Mario’s. I smiled at the effort I’d put into it. I was finally home.
At 6:07, he still wasn’t back.
At 6:33, I tried to call his cell. No answer.
At 7:11, my mind began to play tricks, causing me to wonder if he’d been stringing me along as some kind of vicious payback. I felt sick.
At 7:29, my cell phone rang and vibrated across the counter. I dove for it, finally feeling a sense of relief. Until I saw the name on the screen. Daveigh.
“Crap,” I muttered, realizing I’d forgotten to call her after promising I would. Glancing out the window at the empty driveway, I decided to chance it. If I had to, I’d cut the conversation short when Adam arrived.
I pushed the button, waiting for the latest reprimand. “Hey, ‘Veigh.”
“Blue, are you watching the news?” she asked.
“No. Why?” I straightened the cockeyed spoon at the place setting in front of me.
“Don’t turn it on, but I think you should sit down for what I’m about to tell you.”
An icy feeling settled into my chest. “Why?”
Silence.
I couldn’t breathe. “What is it? Is it Finn? Are you okay? The baby?”
“One of Ty’s work trucks got into an accident off the 101, and his cell phone is off. No one knows what’s happening. You should go to the hospital.”
The rest of her words were a choppy mess while I raced around the room. Every last syllable.
Massive head-on collision.
Water on the roadway.
Semi-truck driver fell asleep at the wheel.
Impact at 70 miles per hour.
Loss of control.
Adam’s work truck careening over the side of a cliff.
I quickly blew out the candles and grabbed my jacket before fumbling through a stack of papers and knickknacks on the counter. “Where are they?” A jingling sound chimed as I located his spare keys under a stack of mail. Like old times.
Every second felt like hours and I moved in slow-motion. Dense rain fell while ferocious gusts of wind pummeled me sideways. In all of my years as a Steele Falls resident, I’d never experienced a storm of that magnitude. Puddles splashed and the wet earth squished as my feet connected with the ground on my way to his old pickup truck. Icy water soaked through my shoes and socks, numbing my toes instantly. I didn’t care. It took three tries to greet the ignition with the key. With blunt force, I slammed the gear shifter in reverse, fishtailing down the road like a race car driver.
My thumb tapped the steering wheel nervously while my stomach tied itself in endless knots. The hospital was thirty minutes away, and my mind was left to reel. Concentrating was near impossible. Visibility was poor as rain battered the windshield, the wipers barely able to keep up with the blurry smears of water on the glass.
All I could think about was getting to the hospital. The fastest route. Not knowing what was going on was the worst, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry, scream, or climb out of my own skin. Most of the drive along the side streets was intense as the air whipped through the trees, bullying the truck to the right. I struggled to stay in the lane, the muscles in my forearms clenched tight. The street lights made it difficult to see the faded lines on the road, which didn’t help my cause.
I pushed the pedal harder, the odometer hovering at almost sixty miles an hour when I shouldn’t have been exceeding twenty-five. Logic told me it wasn’t safe and I risked getting pulled over, but my heart spoke louder, telling me to hurry. “Why is it taking me so long to get there?” In the back of my mind, I wondered if it was how Adam felt as he raced to me the night he got the DUI.
One flicker of that flashback was all it took to disrupt my focus from what I approached. Flashing lights. Flares. A blur of red, white, and blue blips. It was barely enough to illuminate what the surroundings because of the brightness. I’d taken too long pull back into the present and focus on what was happening in front of me. With a desperate plea, I jammed my foot on the brake. Nothing happened and my heart thudded.
“No. I don’t want you out driving around in this wind. Besides, the brakes are nearly shot on the rust-bucket in the driveway,” he replied. “But, I’m going to say something before we hang up. I love—”
A terrified sob emitted from my mouth. I pushed both feet on the brake time and time again, mashing it into the floor with everything I had. The needle had only slowed to fifty-six, and that was because I wasn’t touching the accelerator. The mishap ahead between two smaller cars at the bottom of the massive hill on First and Olive was becoming alarmingly close.
Panic set in.
The truck started its the descent, gaining speed quickly. It hydroplaned where the ground leveled out halfway down before angling downward again. I screamed and spun the steering wheel to the right, desperately trying to avoid the oncoming accident. Instead, I was about to create one of my own. I screamed as the truck turned sideways, the severe movement causing it to flip on its side and roll down the remainder of the hill. It felt as if I were in a washing machine, the spin cycle out of control. My head smashed into the driver’s side window, rainbow-colored bursts exploding behind my eyes. Metal crunched and scraped along the pavement, a sound so deafening as the truck folded around me. It finally slowed, resting on its top while a power pole fell toward the window, resulting in one tumultuous thud and more glass crunching. I fought to open my eyes. What looked like fireworks exploded outside the window. A jolt zapped me and my body tensed. White-hot, searing pain took hold of my mind, body, and soul, ending in an inhuman scream. Everything went black.
* * *
My eyes were so heavy, thoughts like cotton candy swirling inside my head. None of them connected. Tired. “Adam?” I mouthed. Forcing my eyes to open, I focused on my surroundings. Everything smelled medicinal and sharp in my nose. I stood in a hospital room, a dark-haired girl lying lifeless in the bed nearby. Machines clicked and beeped around her, all of them unfamiliar to me. Fuzzy. Who is she? Her face was swollen beyond recognition. A black eye. Two lacerations above her forehead. Countless burns and abrasions. A long trickle of blackened blood had dried near each of her ears. Three fingernails were missing.
I watched as a flurry of nurses and doctors scurried around the room, directing others, like an orchestrated tornado before they left again. It made me wonder what happened. What could put her in such a dire situation? Clothing had been cut from her body, and a jagged piece of metal impaled her left bicep. Her skin was abnormally pale in the few patches that weren’t a searing red. Seizing. Shaking.
“Help her!” I screamed. “Can’t someone hear me?” But nothing happened. No one reacted to the sound of my voice.
Someone needed to fix her. Fast. I made my way into the hall where a w
oman stood. She looked like someone I once knew, but I couldn’t remember her name.
“Do you know who I am or what my last name is?” she demanded. “I want to see my daughter right now.”
A nurse remained calm as she spoke in hushed tones. “Elana, we’re doing everything we can for her, but she’s sustained serious injuries. You’re best suited to stay in the waiting room until we have an update.”
Elana! That was her name. The momster. What was she doing in the hospital? Was it Daveigh? The baby?
My mom threw her arms up in the air as she demanded to be heard.
A younger woman rushed over and wrapped an arm around Elana’s shoulder, leading her down the hall to an open seating area. Thank God! Daveigh appeared to be okay. Shit. Was it Finn?
I’d never seen so much emotion, outside of anger, on the momster’s face before. Her lips trembled while her eyes glistened with tears.
“Oh, God.” Elana raised her hand to her mouth as she sank onto a chair. “They don’t know she’s pregnant. The baby.” She forced herself to her feet. “I have to tell the doctors.”
What baby? There’s another baby?
Terror flooded Daveigh’s face as she grabbed Elana’s arm to stop her. “Mommy, don’t.”
“Now isn’t the time.” She yanked her arm away. “This is important.”
“Blue’s not pregnant.” Daveigh looked down at the floor and my heart ached as I watched, unable to help explain or console them.
“What do you mean? Of course, she is. I found the test.”
“No, Mommy. The test isn’t Blue’s. It’s mine.” Her face contorted into pained shame.
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