“Peyton!” She steadied me by the shoulders before pulling me into a hug. “I heard what happened to Ben. Is he okay? Are you okay?”
Theo’s soothing lemongrass scent staved off the hospital’s sterility. I breathed in and out, burying my nose in Theo’s hair until I felt like a normal human being again. “I don’t know. They haven’t told me anything yet. How did you know?”
“I was worried when you didn’t show up for lunch,” Theo said. “So I drove up to your house. Della filled me in. I figured they wouldn’t take Ben to the clinic in town, so I came straight here.”
I squeezed her tighter, glad that she cared enough to show up. “You should go. You have to get back to work, and Sammy needs to be picked up in a couple of hours.”
“Della’s going to take care of Sammy,” Theo said, linking her arm through mine. “I’m going to take care of you. Have you eaten?”
“Not since this morning.”
“Hospital food sucks, but we can probably find something edible in the vending machines. A nice cup of coffee wouldn’t be horrible either—”
She began leading me inside, but I pulled her back. “No, please. I don’t want to go back in. Not yet. I just need a few minutes.”
Theo produced a tissue from a magical hideaway in her jacket and wiped my running nose. “Whatever you need, Peyton.”
Theo stayed with me until the hospital staff had news on Ben. Since I couldn’t muster the anticipation of the waiting room, we wandered around the hospital instead. We hit the vending machines on every floor, ultimately sneaking into the nurses’ lounge because theirs had the best options. We visited the maternity ward to look at the newborns through the glass window. Theo gave each one a name and made up a story about the baby and its parents. Then we sat in the trauma waiting room for no other reason than to remind ourselves that things could be worse. I could only stand to watch for a few minutes, especially when a doctor came out to inform a family of their loss. Though Ben hadn’t looked anywhere close to death, I had no idea what was going on inside his body, especially since he’d been on the ice for an hour before anyone attended to him. We finally returned to our own waiting room, where it was only another hour before a doctor came out and asked to speak to Ben Fletcher’s family.
“That’s me,” I said, raising my hand. “I’m his wife. Peyton.”
As the doctor came over, Theo held me around the waist for extra support. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she whispered.
The doctor had kind gray eyes and a warm smile, and I wondered if he’d practiced those expressions in med school. “I’m Doctor Metcalfe,” he said. “I’m relieved to tell you that Ben made it through surgery just fine. He should make a full recovery.”
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked. “No one told me.”
“His arm is broken in several places,” Doctor Metcalfe explained. “He’ll need months of physical therapy to get normal motor function back. He also has a few fractured ribs, a collapsed lung, and a concussion. We re-inflated the lung and performed CTs. Thankfully, his concussion was relatively minor. No hematomas or anything like that. All in all, he’s a very lucky guy.”
“Is he awake?” Theo asked as she rubbed circles into my back. “Can she go and see him?”
“He’s not awake yet,” the doctor said. “He’s still groggy from the anesthesia, but you’re welcome to visit his room. I’ll have one of the nurses show you the way.”
As the doctor called over a nurse, I turned to Theo. “Please come with me.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s kind of intimate, isn’t it?”
“I don’t want to do this alone.”
“Okay then.”
Ben had a room with a window to himself. He lay passed out in the middle of the bed, his arm wrapped from elbow to wrist in a thick cast. His chest and head were bandaged too. On the upside, some of the color had returned to his cheeks so he didn’t look as pale and corpse-like as he had on the river. His golden curls had bounced back as well.
“Wow,” Theo whispered. “He looks okay, considering the situation.”
More out of instinct than anything else, I stroked Ben’s curls away from his eyes. “Yeah, he does. It could have been much worse.”
“Do you want me to go?” Theo said. “Now that the hard part’s over?”
“Can you stay a while longer?” I asked her.
“Sure.” She pulled the armchair up to the side of Ben’s bed and patted the seat. “Sit down. I’ll steal another chair from down the hall.”
A few minutes later, she returned from the hallway hauling another chair that she had pilfered from the nurse’s lounge. She handed me a fresh coffee and a paper plate with a piece of chocolate cake.
“It was one of the nurse’s birthdays,” she said with a shrug.
I ate the whole piece. The snacks from the vending machine hadn’t done much for me in the long run, and I was dying for a real meal. As I licked icing from the spoon and watched Ben breathe, an image popped into my head: that of the little girl in the attic window.
“Theo, when did Sammy start talking about his imaginary friend?”
“About a year ago,” Theo answered. “It was the first time he ever ran away. He ended up at your house actually. Ever since then, he’s been obsessed with her. He told me she’s been living there for years.”
“Does he know her name?”
“He calls her Alyssa.” Theo rolled her eyes. “But there’s a little girl named Alyssa in his class at school too, so I figured he named his imaginary friend after her.”
“Has he told you anything else about Alyssa?” I asked. “The imaginary friend, not the girl in his class.”
“Not really,” Theo said. “He’s been less adamant about visiting her since you and Ben moved into the mansion, but he still mentions her once in a while. He’s drawn a bunch of pictures of her.”
“He has?” I said. “Can I see them?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Come by anytime. He’ll be happy to show them to you.”
Not long after our discussion, Della called Theo to let her know Sammy was waiting for her, leaving me alone with Ben for the rest of the evening. When I started dozing off, I gave up on the chair and wiggled in next to Ben, careful not to jostle his bandaged injuries. He smelled like sweat and sterile bandages, with only a faint hint of his favorite mint-scented shampoo. I honed in on that and fell asleep.
“Peyton?”
Ben’s groggy voice woke me up, as did a languid poke to my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see Ben’s brown ones staring back at me. He was awake, alert, and talking. The sun gleamed against the window pane. We’d slept through the entire night.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he said. Then he put on the winning star kicker grin that made me fall in love with him all those years ago. “Long time, no see.”
I have no idea what possessed me to kiss him, but as soon as it happened, I realized it was a mistake. From the second I pressed my lips against his, I wanted to pull away again, not because it wasn’t a nice kiss—on the contrary, it was very nice—but because I didn’t want to give Ben the wrong idea.
“Wow,” he said. “I must be hopped up on a lot of painkillers, because I’m definitely imagining things right now.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, it’s okay.” He pulled me in with his good arm, cradling me against his chest. He winced when I brushed against his fractured ribs but refused to let me go. “It felt right, didn’t it? I missed you, Peyton.”
As I listened to his heartbeat, a single tear fell off my nose and landed on his clinical gown.
9
To my surprise, Doctor Metcalfe cleared Ben to go home, giving me specific instructions on how to care for him for the next several weeks. Between his broken ribs, tender head, and injured lung, Ben had to go easy on his recovery. He was prescribed a slew of pain medication and given advice on when to seek a physical therapy clinic.
&n
bsp; “You should get moving as soon as possible,” Doctor Metcalfe advised. “But not too soon. Take it slow and don’t overwork yourself. Your body is fragile right now, and I don’t want to see you back in this hospital for anything other than a checkup.”
Since we didn’t have a ride back to Falconwood, I called Della to ask if she was able to come pick us up. Not only did she arrive in Moorewood in Basil’s eco-friendly car to get us, she stuck around once we made it back to Abram Mansion. She helped me get Ben into bed, set up his room so whatever he might need was within reach of his good arm, and whipped up a batch of chicken noodle soup for the both of us. After Ben took his pain medication, he was out like a light. Right before he fell asleep, he took my face in his hands and brought me closer to kiss me again. I pulled away.
In the kitchen, Della made tea. When the kettle whistled, she poured the boiling water over the fresh tea mixture she’d made herself and set the cup under my nose as it steeped. “Take a whiff of that,” she said. “It’ll perk you right up.”
I inhaled the soothing scents, detecting orange and black pepper. “Thanks, Della. You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re here.”
“I’m just glad Ben’s going to be okay.” Della poured her own cup of tea and joined me at the table. “Are you all right?”
“Everyone keeps asking me that, but I’m not the one who fell off a terrace.”
“Yes, but emotional health is just as important as physical health,” Della said. “If Basil fell off a roof, I’d be elated to know he was going to be fine. You seem a bit put out.”
“Not because of that,” I answered quickly. “I’m glad Ben’s okay. I don’t ever want to see him get hurt. I did something stupid though.”
“Honey, we’re human. We thrive on stupidity.”
“I kissed him,” I admitted, lowering my head to rest on the kitchen table. “Right after he woke up.”
Della whistled. “Wow, kissing your husband. What a terrible thing to do.”
“We’re basically divorced,” I reminded her. “And now he probably thinks we have a shot at getting back together.” I banged my head on the table. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
Della slid her palm between my forehead and the wood. “If you don’t stop, you’re going to give yourself a concussion too.”
I groaned and slumped over in my chair. Della pushed the mug of tea toward me.
“Listen to me,” she said. “That kiss happened in an onrush of emotions. You were happy Ben made it through surgery alive. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“But he thinks—”
“Let him be for now,” Della said. “As long as he’s taking those painkillers, he won’t be any kind of lucid. After a few days, explain that the kiss didn’t mean what he might have thought. Remind him you’re still getting divorced.”
“He’ll be crushed. I need to talk to him—”
Della forced the cup of tea to my lips to shut me up. “What you need is to get out of this house and away from Ben. As long as you’re staring at his pretty bandaged face, you’re going to let him play whatever card he wants. Go into town. Check in with Theo. Whatever you do, I don’t want to see you here before dinnertime.”
“But—”
“Go!” Della confiscated the cup of tea and pushed me out of my chair. “I mean it. Go get ready and get out of here.”
Della’s insistence shoved me out of the kitchen. With her blessing, I walked right past Ben’s room without checking on him. In my own room, I dug out the rolls of film I’d shot on the antique camera and put them in my coat pocket.
Once in town, I dropped the film rolls off at Chester’s photography shop to be developed then went about my usual routine. But when I showed up at Black Cat Café for a late breakfast, I discovered that the news of Ben’s injury had spread far and wide. As soon as I stepped inside, Mason darted out from behind the counter to envelop me in a crushing hug.
“Peyton, you dear thing,” he cried. “I heard the news. How are you holding up? How’s Ben? Can I do anything to help? We love fundraisers here at the Black Cat if you need help raising money for the medical bills. Shall I set one up?”
“Insurance covered most of the cost,” I said, squirming out of his claustrophobic grasp. “It’s going to be a long recovery for him, but the doctors said he’ll be okay.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” Mason said, beaming. “What can I get you today? The usual?”
“Yes, please. I’d like something other than hospital coffee to drink.”
“Of course! Go sit down. Anywhere you like. If someone’s already sitting there, I’ll make them move. Just say the word!”
“That’s okay, Mason,” I told him. “You take care of your other customers.”
I did my best to go about my usual business, taking up residence in one of the cozy armchairs in the warmest corner of the café to read a book Theo had lent me. Mason soon brought me my coffee, an egg and cheese croissant, and a free cookie because I apparently looked like I needed it. Every few pages in my book, someone else came up to me to ask about Ben. From the sound of it, Jim and his crew had told the entire town about Ben’s fall. Rumors of his supposed injuries spread far and wide, but I set the record straight and asked each of the locals to respect our privacy. Though everyone was polite enough, the constant interruptions got old quickly. I escaped Black Cat and gave Theo a call.
“Peyton!” she answered. “How are you? How’s Ben?”
“We’re both fine,” I told her. “Ben’s home on bed rest. Della’s watching him, but she forced me to go out. Are you at work?”
“No, I picked Sammy up from school early,” she replied. “He pulled someone else’s hair and got sent to the principal’s office. I haven’t gotten the whole story from him yet though.”
“I thought his behavior was improving?”
She sighed through the phone. “So did I. Do you want to come over? I made a vat of macaroni and cheese, and we could use the company.”
“On my way.”
Theo’s apartment felt more like home than the Abram Mansion ever did. As soon as I got there, the smell of fresh cinnamon buns from the bakery below taunted my senses. Theo answered the door wearing a purple flowery apron with ricotta cheese smeared across the front and brandishing a cheesy spatula. She tossed the apron off to give me a cheese-free hug.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said. “I’m glad Ben’s home and doing okay. How are you holding up?”
“Good and not so good,” I told her as she took my coat and beckoned me inside. I flopped down on her couch. “I kissed Ben.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah, uh-oh.” I groaned and covered my head with a throw pillow. “Della thinks I should wait until Ben isn’t taking painkillers to tell him how I feel.”
“How do you feel?” Theo stirred the mac and cheese on the stove absentmindedly, not noticing when some of the noodles fell out. “I mean, are you going to get back together with him?”
“No!” I rolled to my feet, tossed aside the pillow, and sat at the breakfast bar to talk to Theo instead. “It was a relief kiss. I was glad he wasn’t dead, you know? My emotions reared their ugly heads and went all Medusa on me.”
“At least you haven’t turned to stone. Taste this.” She raised the wooden spoon to my lips, and I ate the piece of macaroni off it. “What’s it need? More cheese?”
I wrenched my tongue from where it was glued to the roof of my mouth. “God, no. Add some milk, woman.”
She added a splash of milk to the pot and started stirring again. The macaroni slowly unstuck from the sides of the pan and started to look more like pasta than a solid block of cheese.
“Not your usual healthy meal,” I commented. “Where’s the side of sautéed spinach or roasted broccoli?”
“Mac and cheese is Sammy’s favorite,” said Theo. “I don’t make it very often, but he had a hard day.”
“So you’re rewarding him for pulling someone’s hair?”
“They’re six. Are they really that cunning?”
Theo put her hair up in a ponytail and washed her hands. “I don’t know, but Sammy’s never lied to me. If he does something wrong, he tells me and apologizes. I just don’t understand why he’s being bullied, and he won’t tell me.”
I looked around the empty living room. Sammy’s off-brand building blocks were piled neatly in his play corner, but there were no signs of the actual kid. “Where is he anyway? Taking a nap?”
“Probably,” Theo said. “He fell asleep in the car on the way home. Do you want to go wake him up for me? Let him know his lunch is ready.”
Quietly, I snuck into the bedroom that Theo and Sammy shared. Sammy lay in his twin-sized race car bed, but he wasn’t actually asleep. He played with two plush dogs, silently mouthing a conversation between them.
“Hey, Sammy,” I said.
“Hi, Peyton!” He jumped off the bed, upending the dogs to give me a hug around the waist. “I missed you yesterday.”
“I missed you too. Aren’t you supposed to be taking a nap right now?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” Sammy said. “But I know Mama didn’t want me to get in the way in the kitchen.”
I ruffled his hair. “Speaking of your mom, she wanted me to let you know that your lunch is ready. I hear mac and cheese is your favorite.”
“Yeah! Are you staying for lunch?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” He took my hand and led me back into the main room. “Mama, Peyton’s staying for lunch!”
The Haunting of Abram Mansion Page 12