Dream Chaser - SETTING

by Ashley, Kristen

  “Are we counting?” Porter asked.

  “Porter, really. Your cholesterol,” Anne-Marie said low.

  “I’m fit as a fiddle,” he declared.

  She gave me another head shake, this one meaning men and their delusions about their health.

  “You know, this isn’t all that brilliant, now you got a woman to gang up on us with,” Porter pointed out, not missing the shaking head, or, it seemed, the message it sent.

  “Finally,” she shot back, and to me, “You can imagine,” she said that last word in a dire tone, “me and four boys in my home. It does not start, nor does it end, with their proclivity toward the f-word, let me tell you.”

  She gave a fake shiver.

  It was a good one.

  At that, I let myself start laughing.

  “I’ve been absolutely living for the day when my sons found women so I’d have a break from all…things…man,” she finished.

  I laughed harder.

  My phone started ringing.

  “You loved every second of it,” Porter claimed.

  “I don’t when one of my boys says the f-word around me,” she replied as I got up to get my phone.

  “Mom, give it up. I’m a guy. I curse. I don’t gamble, cheat or steal. Consider yourself lucky,” Boone said, bringing his mother her latest cup of Nespresso.

  He was also a son who brought his mother coffee, and that had to count for something.

  I mean, seriously.

  I loved these people.

  I stopped smiling at them and checked my phone.

  My heart twinged.

  Angelica.

  I hadn’t heard from her since she hung up on me, what was it now? Weeks ago?

  In the meantime, Mom had reported that Ang got a “job” working for a friend who had an Etsy business that was taking off and she needed someone to do the packing and mailing so she had more time to design stickers or carve placeholders or whatever.

  It was part-time. Cash under the table (probably so Angelica could still fleece the government for whatever she got from them). And, in my opinion, totally bogus.

  Mom’s take: “At least she’s trying.”

  My take: It was horseshit.

  But no one asked me, and I wasn’t in it anymore, so it had nothing to do with me.

  Now she was calling.

  Word on the kids was nil. Portia was apparently back at school. From what I knew about how Brian was, Jethro would always be Jethro, someone there to take care of him, even if it wasn’t a parent.

  And I was out of it and doing my best to pretend I didn’t miss them, but I couldn’t do anything about that now anyway, just in case they wouldn’t be safe because I wasn’t safe, so as ever…onward.

  And again, she was calling.

  The phone quit ringing, I stared at it so long.

  But as with Angelica anytime she wanted something, it started right back up again.

  Or it could be something bad with the kids.

  I snatched up the phone, turned to the Sadlers to see two of them were looking at me with friendly curiosity, one had his brows drawn, and I said, “Sorry. I have to take this. Just a sec,” and moved toward the bathroom.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “Your brother is at the hospital,” she declared. “They’re discharging him today, then he’ll go to jail since he’s already been arrested, though he was so drunk, he probably doesn’t remember that. And he’ll need to be bailed out. I’m no longer in this. I don’t have any money, no matter what you think. But even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to his drunk ass. And he’s not seeing his children until he gets his head out of that ass. And you can tell him I said that. And you can also tell him not to even try to come over here if he’s still drinking, or I’m calling the cops.”

  Halfway to the bathroom, I’d stopped dead on the word “hospital.”

  “He’s in the hospital?” I whispered.

  “Hit a parked car while driving. No one was hurt but him. He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and hit his head real bad, fucked up his arm, got all torn up. They thought he might have a concussion so they kept him overnight. Now that they’re releasing him, he’s fucked, and just to say I’m glad. Maybe this will mean he’ll wake the fuck up.”

  I had questions, about a billion of them, but I didn’t get them out before she kept rolling out her vitriol.

  “And just so you know, since I’m done with him, so I get to be done with you, it wasn’t easy, losing Brian. It wasn’t easy, getting pregnant so early and not having a life. All my friends having fun and doing stuff. Going to school. Starting jobs. Getting apartments. Getting all dressed up and going out clubbing. And I was home and fat with Portia or changing dirty diapers and my husband was drinking himself to sleep. So maybe I wanted to have a little bit of fun. Maybe I wanted to be normal. Or pretend for a while. And not have some bitch get up in my face because she doesn’t get it. All I did was fall in love, and the next thing I know my life is in the toilet.”

  Honest to God, I didn’t have time for her shit.

  So I cut through it, asking, “Does Mom know?”

  “I’m not going to tell your mother her son is this huge of a fuckup. June is a decent lady. Or at least she has always been decent to me.”

  “What hospital?”

  “Swedish.”

  I hung up on her and whirled, bumping into Boone who was so close behind me, he was almost on top of me.

  I tipped my head back.

  “My brother had an accident. He’s at Swedish Hospital.”

  “Grab your bag, baby, let’s go,” he replied instantly.

  I raced to my purse.

  When I started back Boone’s way, his mom had her purse on her shoulder and both his parents were heading toward the door.

  “We’ll come with,” Porter decreed.

  Nonononononono.

  “I don’t—”

  “We’re coming with you, doll,” Porter said gently, but firmly.

  Doll.

  Boone had a dad who called his son’s girlfriends “doll.”

  I wanted to cry.

  I didn’t because Boone’s hand closed warm and strong around mine and I got my shit together.

  We had a low-key argument about who was sitting in front of Boone’s Charger, which was solved when Anne-Marie hustled to the driver’s side to get in back that way, Porter gently set me aside before he folded in back of the passenger side, and Boone actually did the cop move of putting his hand on the top of my head and folding me in the front.

  Boone had us on the road for about a minute before I stammered, “My brother has…he has a, well, a problem. And he was drinking before the accident. No one else was hurt,” I said the last super quick.

  “That’s okay, honey, yes?” Anne-Marie said, leaning forward and patting my arm. “Right now, let’s just get you to the hospital and get you to your brother. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Did whoever phone you tell your mother?” she asked.

  “Uh…n-no. No.”

  Yup.

  Still stammering.

  “Would you like me or Boone to phone her, or can you do that?”

  “I haven’t really, well, you know, decided if—”

  “Call your mother, Kathryn,” Anne-Marie ordered gently.

  “Right, yes, right,” I whispered, lifting up my phone.

  Boone’s hand curled around my thigh and didn’t let go.

  “Hey, sugarsnap,” Mom greeted.

  “Mom—” My voice cracked.

  Boone’s fingers tensed.

  “Ryn,” Mom whispered. “Are you okay, baby?”

  “He’s okay. They’re releasing him. But Brian had an accident. Boone’s taking me to Swedish right now.”

  “I’m on my way,” she said.

  “Mom,” I swallowed. “He’d been drinking. He’s been arrested. They’re taking him into custody when he’s released.”

  “Okay, Kathryn. All right, honey. I hear you.
Let’s just see if your brother is all right first. Meet you there at the front. All right?”

  “Yeah, Mom.”

  “You said Boone’s driving?”

  “Yes,” I pushed out.

  “Okay. Good,” she said.

  “Um, his parents are with us. You remember I told you? They’re in town.”

  Mom didn’t say anything at first, I was sure because she still wasn’t a big fan that I met them before he met her, especially, it was worth a repeat, when they lived states away, and she did not.

  Now, she was probably less of a fan because of the way she’d be meeting all of them.

  “Okay, well, it’ll be lovely to meet them,” she said. “Boone too, finally.”

  I barked out a laugh that was entirely unamused.

  Boone’s fingers squeezed tighter.

  “Ryn, it’s going to be okay,” Mom told me.

  “Yeah,” I lied.

  “See you soon.”

  “Yeah,” I repeated.

  “’Bye, sugarsnap.”

  “’Bye, Mom. Love you.”

  “Love you too, my Kathryn.”

  Man.

  My mom.

  We hung up.

  I dropped my phone hand.

  “Rynnie, you with me?” Boone asked tenderly.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, looking out the window, thinking Brian couldn’t pick a weekend when Boone’s parents weren’t in town to scare his family shitless and fuck up his life even more.

  “Ryn, hey,” Boone shook my thigh. “Stick with me.”

  I looked forward.

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  “Okay,” Boone said, took his hand off my thigh and turned it face up. “Hand,” he demanded.

  I put my hand in his.

  He closed his fingers around it tight, pulled it his way, and rested it on his thigh.

  For once, this contact with Boone, this indication of how awesome he was, did not make me feel better.

  * * *

  So, a girl has a variety of terrifying thoughts about meeting a guy’s parents, him meeting her parents, and everyone meeting each other, and just how bad all that could go.

  But even in my wildest imaginings, the way it went in the lobby of Swedish Medical Center was worse than maybe anyone could possibly imagine.

  Luckily, Mom had it going on, so did the Sadlers (all three of them), so the awkwardness only hit the danger zone, not the stratosphere.

  And maybe it was weak, but I didn’t care.

  When we got outside Brian’s room where a uniform cop was hanging, I asked Boone to go in with me.

  Angelica said he was torn up, and if he looked bad, I needed Boone.

  And Brian hadn’t been all that nice to me lately, so if he kept up that bent, I needed Boone.

  Mom didn’t make a peep, and neither did Porter or Anne-Marie. The Sadlers said they’d go get us coffees and be in the waiting room.

  Boone, being Boone, said one word.

  “Absolutely.”

  Boone talked to the cop to gain entry.

  Mom went in first, and Boone held my hand when we went in after her.

  And Brian was torn up.

  Obviously, there’d been some shattered glass because he had little cuts all over his face. The array of the worst of it seemed to come down from, my guess, the biggest wound. The one under the bandage that was smack in the middle of his forehead. And his arm was in a sling.

  So yeah, there was that head wound and how it looked and how it made clear how incredibly worse it could have been.

  He also looked pale, but green around the gills, the first his health and predicament, the last a hangover.

  Oh yeah, one last thing.

  He was handcuffed to the bed.

  I noted he looked sheepish when he saw Mom.

  He looked angry when he saw me.

  He got enraged when he saw Boone.

  “Are you serious with this fuckin’ guy?”

  Those were his first words to us.

  “Brian, this is Boone, your sister’s boyfriend, and—” Mom began.

  “So now you’re fuckin’ him?” Brian asked me.

  I sucked in breath.

  Boone went perfectly still.

  Incidentally, Brian had also been at that party at Lottie and Mo’s that Mom went to.

  There were a lot of people there, I didn’t think he’d met Boone either.

  But he obviously knew who he was.

  “Probably can get him to get all sorts of shitty stuff for you to hold over family and friends, you let him bang you,” Brian went on.

  “Brian, I can imagine you’d prefer not to focus on your current situation,” Mom stated. “But at no time is it all right to speak to your sister like that.”

  Boone’s hand started pumping mine.

  “Mom, stop talking to me like I’m a child,” Brian bit out.

  “Then stop acting like one,” she returned.

  Brian looked again to Boone and me.

  “You know, I don’t need Ryn to bring her A-Team asshole in to get up in my shit. How many reps you do to get biceps like that, bro? Fuck, you’re a joke.”

  “Brian, stop talking,” Mom snapped.

  Boone abruptly turned to me and urgently bit out, “Ryn!”

  But that was it.

  All went black and I was out.

  * * *

  “Fuck you.”

  “Fuck me? Christ, your sister just passed out in your hospital room, holding her breath because she can’t deal with watching the brother she loves destroy his goddamn life at the same time listen to him hurl vile shit at her. A room a cop is outside to take you into custody because you can’t get out of a world where you think it revolves around you. It’s not that you’ve fucked up her day. You’ve fucked up the last few years of her life after she took care of your ass for the first ones.”

  “Saint Kathryn.”

  “Yeah, seems to me.”

  “It would, since she’s sucking your cock.”

  “Jesus. You’d know a joke, Brian, seein’ how big a goddamn one you are.”

  I opened my eyes.

  I was in a chair in the corner of Brian’s hospital room, Mom sitting on the arm, holding my hand.

  I was a bit slouched, but hearing Boone and Brian talk to each other like that, I sat up, whispering, “Mom.”

  She shook her head and whispered back, “Let it happen.”

  I shook my head too and repeated, “Mom.”

  “He needs to hear this.”

  “I—”

  “Quiet, Kathryn.”

  I looked beyond her, and I could tell just by the line of Boone’s body how insanely pissed he was.

  He was at the foot of the bed, probably to position himself somewhere where he wouldn’t be tempted to put his hands on my brother.

  Brian was sitting up, red-faced and infuriated, leaning toward Boone.

  But he must have heard Mom and me because he was looking directly at me.

  “Saint Kathryn wakes,” he said snidely.

  Boone shifted to the side so my brother couldn’t see me.

  He also said, “Christ, you’re still drunk.”

  “I just had a few and this is not that big of a fuckin’ deal.”

  “You’re in a fuckin’ hospital.”

  “I had an accident!”

  “Wise up, you made an accident happen, bro. And you’re are so motherfuckin’ lucky, you have no clue. You hit somebody, after you got out of prison, there’d be no hope, you’re so goddamned weak, the guilt would annihilate you and you’d spend the rest of your life at the bottom of a goddamn bottle.”

  Mom winced.

  I opened my mouth to call out to Boone.

  Mom shook her head.

  I closed my mouth.

  “You know, I didn’t ask you in here,” Brian said.

  “Your sister did.”

  “Are you not gettin’ that I don’t give a fuck what my sister wants?”

  “Yeah, I got
that before your sister did.”

  I winced.

  Mom held tight to my hand.

  “You know, bud,” Boone started, “I don’t know what it is that brought you to this place, but you better take stock. Because those two women dropped everything to be here when they heard what happened to you. No, what you did to yourself. They dropped everything to get here to see you were okay and take your back. I will never in my life forget the look on Ryn’s face when she looked up at me and told me her brother had been in an accident. Never forget it. Because that look tore a hole in my goddamned soul.”

  I squeezed my eyes tight.

  Brian had no response to that.

  I opened my eyes again when Boone kept talking.

  “And if you don’t sort your shit out, the next time this or something like it goes down, if it doesn’t end in tragedy one way or another, they aren’t gonna bother. And you can try to convince yourself you won’t miss it, but if you make that shit happen, you’ll torture yourself for losing them for the rest of your goddamn days.”

  With that, he turned and scorched me with his eyes.

  “Baby, I would really like you to leave this room with me,” he said.

  “Go,” Mom encouraged. “I’ll talk to your brother.”

  I did not want to leave my mother alone with Brian.

  But at the expression on her face, and the emotion I felt coming from Boone, I nodded and stood.

  Boone held out his hand.

  I moved to him and took it but stopped and looked to Brian.

  “I love you so fucking much,” I whispered.

  Brian’s head jerked to the side with the power of his flinch.

  “Please, get yourself well,” I finished.

  And then Boone pulled me out of the room.

  * * *

  “Porter bought me a Samsung. It talks to me. He thinks it’s everything. But I don’t know why a fridge needs to talk to you,” Anne-Marie said to my mother.

  “I really don’t understand what a fridge needs to do outside keeping food cold,” Mom said to Anne-Marie. “A friend of mine bought one of these, it costs over five thousand dollars. And it doesn’t even dispense water.”

  “Lunacy,” Anne-Marie murmured.

  “But Maria tells me they’re the greatest thing in fridges,” Mom said. “I’m sure Ryn knows what she’s doing, putting one of these in here. People think they’re so amazing, she might just sell this house because of the fridge.”