With every mile we traveled closer to my building, I felt emptier.
“I bet you’re excited to get home,” Aunt Ellen said.
“Not really.”
“No?”
“Not without Josh.”
Aunt Ellen pressed her lips together. “That was some dream you had.”
She exited the highway, taking a detour to the pharmacy before parking in front of my building.
“Here we are,” she chimed, twisting off the engine.
I pushed out of Aunt Ellen’s rental, stepping across the leaf-covered ground.
She rubbed her hands together. “Dear Lord, it’s cold for this time of year, isn’t it? It can’t just be that I’m a Floridian.”
I nodded. “It’s colder than usual.” My cane clicked against the sidewalk in a slow, defeated rhythm.
“I did a little shopping. I’m going to make you some spaghetti.” She chuckled. “It’s the only thing I can remember that you like. At least, you did when you were eight.”
“I still do.” I tried my best to smile, but failed.
Parsons stepped out onto the stoop, the automatic lock clicking behind her.
She beamed, her nose already red from the chill in the air. “Avery! Great to see you back. I was just on my way to work. How are you feeling?”
“I’m … I’m good.” It was difficult to speak to her in a civil tone. I was relieved for a moment that Hope trying to seduce my husband had just been a dream, but then silently cursed myself. I would keep the painful parts if it meant I could keep the good.
Hope patted me on the shoulder. “Glad to hear it. I have a lasagna I’d like to bring up for you later if that’s all right.”
“Of course,” I said. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
With a nod, Parsons hurried down the porch steps. I watched her pull out her keys and make her way to her car. I shook my head. Part of this was her fault, and she didn’t even know it. It was confusing, hating her for something she hadn’t done.
I gripped the railing, pulling my weight upward with slow, agonizing steps. Inside wasn’t much easier, but I was happy to be out of the chilly air.
My apartment smelled of bleach and artificial flowers. “I hope you don’t mind. I tidied up a bit.” She slid my purse from my shoulder and placed it on the kitchen island.
My gaze drifted over the empty space that should have held a table. I looked away. That was from my other life, the one I preferred.
“You’re a minimalist,” Aunt Ellen joked as she pulled a pot from the cupboard. “That will make it easier on us during the move.”
“Move?” I asked, sinking into the small couch in the living room.
I would miss the new pots and pans, the kitchen table, the new mattress, the new comforter, and shams. Most of all, I would miss Josh.
I waited for the scamper of tiny puppy nails against the floor and then covered my mouth. “Dee,” I whispered, mourning the loss of him as well.
“Oh, honey,” Aunt Ellen said. “I can’t stay here forever.” She laughed as she continued to rummage through the groceries she’d purchased.
“I’m confused.”
“I’ve been meaning to discuss it with you, but you’ve been so upset. I just thought it would be easier for me to look after you in Florida.”
“I don’t need you to look after me.”
Setting a jar of sauce down on the counter with a loud clank, she gave me a hard stare before sighing. “You have physical therapy, your car was totaled, and you can’t go back to work yet. You can’t be here alone.”
“I have some money saved up, and I have Deb. I’ll be okay for a little while.”
“What about hospital bills, rent, utilities? They didn’t get put on hold just because you were unconscious, sweetheart. Life went on.”
Life went on.
My chest ached, and I wished it were me who hadn’t woken up. I touched my chest, feeling palpable pain in my heart. I needed Josh. I needed our daughter. I would give anything to fall back asleep and be lying next to Josh in our bed, his hand on my belly as Penny kicked.
“I need to use the restroom,” I mumbled as I slowly limped my way past the kitchen. The smell of diced onions turned my stomach as it mingled with the odor of cleaning supplies.
Flipping the light switch, my line of sight lowered to the floor where I had once curled up and cried, knowing my life with Josh was ending.
I let the cane fall to the linoleum floor with a clatter, gripping the edge of the sink. My eyes rose slowly to meet my own reflection.
“Avery? Are you okay, honey?”
“Fine,” I called back.
It was the first time I had seen the aftermath of what the accident had done. A few yellow-gray bruises marred my skin. A deep purple streaked under my sunken eyes. My cheeks were hollow, like my chest felt. I raised my hand, letting my fingertips slide against my skin. I barely recognized myself; I hardly recognized anything. I was stuck two years in the past, with no hope of the same future. I folded into a sobbing mess on the ground, my body unable to support the horrible reality.
“Avery!” Aunt Ellen shrieked as she lunged toward me, lifting my chin to look into my eyes.
A million thoughts flickered in my mind before I rose to the surface. I looked up, expecting to see Josh above me, devastated all over again to see Aunt Ellen.
“No!” I cried, pulling into the fetal position on the floor.
Aunt Ellen sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around me and holding me to her chest. “Should I call Deb?” she asked.
“No, she’s at work. I just passed out,” I said, reaching for my wrist. I counted. “I’m fine. Just weak. I should rest.”
Aunt Ellen helped me up, guiding me to the bed. “Is there someone else you want me to call?”
My husband, I thought, feeling my face crumble.
I rushed through a shower, unable to look away from the spot on the floor where Avery had sat, her knees pulled against her belly, looking betrayed. I couldn’t get her expression out of my mind. Guilt consumed me, knowing the pain I had caused her, and the inevitable pain that awaited her when she woke up.
My eyes burned as tears streamed down, mingling with the hot water from the shower. The gravity of the situation had finally hit me. Even if Avery woke, I could still lose her. Placing my palm against the wall to hold my weight, I let the pain and anger roll through me until I was too exhausted to support my own weight.
“Why couldn’t it be me?” I choked out as my forehead fell against the cold tile. I would have given anything to be the one in that car, to be the one in that hospital bed, lost in an eternal dream state.
The house phone beeped from down the hall, letting me know the answering machine had been overloaded with messages. I ignored the noise. Talking about it with someone else would make it all too real.
Turning off the water, I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out onto the tile, glowering at my own reflection in the mirror. Purple half-moons bruised the skin beneath my bloodshot eyes, my heartache manifesting itself in my appearance. I looked away, rubbing the fluffy towel over my face, wiping away the water and tears that came flooding back. Avery was all around me, in the pink toothbrush sitting in the holder, the perfume bottle behind the faucet, even the fluffy towel around my waist.
The house felt so empty. Calling it a home without her in it was wrong. The heels of my hands turned white against the edge of the counter. The odds of her coming back to me were slim. I was stuck in a nightmare. Tears trickled down the bridge of my nose, dripping from the tip into the sink.
My head snapped up when Dax pawed at the door, and when I pulled it open, he danced around, needing to be let out.
I sniffed and then rubbed my face with both hands. “Give me a minute, okay?”
I padded to the bedroom and hurried to get dressed. I passed the kitchen, barely giving it a second glance. My stomach growled in protest, but I couldn’t imagine sitting down to a leisurely meal knowing
Avery was still in the hospital.
Exhaustion and skipping meals were beginning to take their toll. My body felt weighted by sand as I dragged myself around our small home. I patted my pockets and turned on my heels to search the bedroom for my wallet. I passed Penny’s nursery on the way and froze in her doorway. A sinking feeling overwhelmed me. My selfishness had hurt her, too.
I backed out into the hallway and trudged down the hall. After finding my wallet, I made my way back to the front door. Dax panted as I latched his leash to his collar. His nails tapped against the wooden flooring as he walked with me outside.
I stood in the grass, waiting for Dax to do his business. Cinda had been coming over to help out with him, but he was alone in the apartment all day. I looked down at him. “I called Cinda, buddy. You’re going to stay with her for a while. How does that sound?” The sound of my voice was even more depressing. I couldn’t even pretend for the dog.
With his back legs, Dax scratched at the grass and then shook his entire body.
“Good boy,” I said, reaching down to pat his back.
My cell rang in my pocket and I pulled it out, fumbling to answer Quinn’s call.
“Is she awake?” I blurted out, prepared for disappointment.
“You need to get back here, man.”
“What happened?” I said, sounding more accusatory than I meant.
“She’s awake … I just … Get back here, Josh. Leave now.”
I could hear voices in the background. Crying. Shouting.
“I’m sorry, Avery. You’re too upset,” a voice called out in the background.
“Is that Doc Rose?” I asked. “What’s going on?
“You’re damn right I’m upset! Don’t do this! Please! Please!” Avery begged. My heart hammered against the wall of my chest at the sound of her voice in the distance.
“She’s awake. Thank God,” I choked out in relief. I held the phone to my ear, raking back my hair with the other hand.
“He just needs a little more time. Just a little more time.” Her fear was palpable.
“Is she … is she okay?” I asked Quinn, tugging Dax up the steps to our front door. “Did she wake up confused?”
I scrambled to find the right key and then shoved it in the lock, opening the door just long enough for Dax to run in, still attached to his leash.
I ran to the garage, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder while I twisted the ignition. “You still there, Quinn?”
“Yeah. Yeah, but …”
“But what? I’m in the car. Does she not want me there?”
“Yeah,” he breathed out. “She definitely wants you here. That’s the only sense she’s making.”
“Tell her I’m on my way.”
“I can’t.”
I dropped the phone into my lap, tapping speakerphone. The SUV revved as I backed out of the drive and onto the street. “What do you mean you can’t?”
“She’s not listening to anyone. She’s combative. She’s saying weird shit.”
“Like what?” I asked, pressing on the gas. My eyebrows pulled together. I had feared so much that she wouldn’t wake up or wouldn’t come home if she did. It hadn’t occurred to me the millions of other problems she could have. “Has the doc ordered a CT? Maybe there’s swelling,” I said, swallowing hard. “It could be a brain bleed. He needs to run tests. Now.”
“He’s not going to take orders from me, Josh. You know that,” Quinn said, sounding half worried, half frustrated. “She’s … she keeps asking you to wake up.”
“What?”
“She keeps saying it over and over. She wants you to wake up.” He began imitating her. “‘Wake up, Josh. Listen to my voice. Come back to me. I need you to wake up.’ Her eyes are wide open, man. It’s like she’s talking to you, but you ain’t here. It’s … you just need to get here.”
“Wake up?” I asked. “She’s asking me to wake up?”
“Wake up,” Quinn said, over and over. “It’s time for you to wake up.”
I clicked my nails on the table, staring out the window at the street outside. A Buick was parked in place of Josh’s SUV. Quinn said Josh wouldn’t be able to drive the Barracuda. It was bent and crumpled in a salvage yard next to the Prius.
There were a few lucky, blissful nights I dreamed of Josh, but it was nothing like before. His face was blurred, his voice not quite as comforting as I remembered.
“Avery?” Deb called from the kitchen. She brought me a bowl of steaming soup, setting it on the table. “Avery,” she chided, “if you get like this every time I bring news about Josh, I can’t keep doing it. It’s not good for you.”
“No,” I said, snapping out of my stare. “It’s okay. I want to know.”
“I thought you’d be happy. Helping people is what he does. His dad donating his organs just makes sense out of all this.”
I swallowed. “Planning for his death before he’s dead is wrong. He’s not dead. However you look at it, Josh protected me. Now he’s spare parts.” I thought about my Prius and shivered.
“I can take you to see him tomorrow.”
“Yes,” I said, nodding.
“I think he likes it when you come.”
I smiled, swirling a spoon around the beef and vegetables. “He doesn’t like it enough to wake up.” My mood plummeted. “If he doesn’t soon, his father won’t have a choice but to take him off life support.”
“That won’t happen. You woke up. He will, too.”
I tried to smile, but I’d forgotten how.
“Maybe you should … maybe you should visit your aunt in Florida? I know you two got closer while she was here.”
“She wants me to move.”
“I can’t agree to that, but the sunshine would do you some good.”
“There’s sunshine here,” I mumbled.
“Not like Florida. She lives a block away from the beach, right? Imagine being able to swim in the ocean whenever you want. That would be epic.”
“I’m not leaving Josh.”
Deb poured me a glass of orange juice, and then one for herself. “This would be much better with vodka.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“What were you thinking for dinner tonight?” she asked. “I can make something quick or grab something for you, and then I have to go.”
“Don’t worry about me, Deb. I appreciate you, you know that, but I’m not helpless. Go do whatever. Are you going to Corner Hole?”
“No. I don’t know,” she said with a coy smile.
I set down my glass and arched an eyebrow. “What are you up to, Hamata? Are you holding out on me?”
She shook her head. “I can’t tell you. I would be a huge dick if I did.”
“I’m your best friend. Do not think for a second I can’t be happy for you.”
“I have a date,” she said, immediately cringing.
I smiled for the first time in weeks, grabbing her hand across the table. “Deborah Keiko Hamata! With who?”
She hesitated, then looked down at her glass. “Quinn.”
“What?” I squealed.
“If I’d known you were going to actually show a real smile, I’d have told you a week ago.”
“You’ve kept this from me for a week?” I said, a little hurt.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s okay. I understand why you did.”
“No. I’m sorry I have a date with Quinn. It might not even happen. He’s been texting me nonstop, and then today … nothing.”
“Don’t be sorry. It gives me hope,” I said, looking out the window with a smile. The world was going on with me—without Josh. The branches were almost bare. Halloween was just a few days away. I closed my eyes, wondering how I would make it through the first snowfall, through Christmas without Josh. “And don’t worry. Quinn’s probably just busy at work. It’s a full moon tonight.”
“So … dinner?” Deb asked.
“I was thinking Japanese. JayWok is right down the street.�
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Deb nodded. “You sure? I really don’t mind.”
“I’m sure. I’ve been craving it all day, actually.”
“I can get takeout, or I can call them and have them deliver.” She raked back her dark hair, looking guilty.
“I’m really fine,” I said. “I feel like I need to go in. Sit down and have a meal. I’ve missed Coco and Jeremy, and … it’ll be good for me to get out.”
“You’re right. You need to walk and breathe in that fresh fall air. I just … I just want you to be okay.”
I made Deb leave early so she could get ready for her date. She waved to me from the street before she slid into her car and drove away.
I walked across the room to the bathroom, slow but without a limp. All traces of the accident were gone, the bruises had faded, my bones had healed.
I spent the day cleaning my apartment, running the vacuum, folding laundry, and hand-washing the few dishes in the sink. I showered after Bobbi, my physical therapist, said good-bye. We only had a few appointments left. If nothing else felt stronger, my bones and muscles did.
My stomach gurgled, and I reached down, realizing I’d skipped lunch. I made my way to the bathroom, feeling the strange sensation of excitement bubbling in my chest.
I dabbed on a bit of makeup, brushed my hair and teeth, and pulled my hair up into a messy bun. My face was beginning to fill out again, and although I still had a way to go, I was beginning to look like my old self.
The bolt lock on my door clicked when I twisted the key, and I turned, reaching for the railing to carefully navigate the stairs. I tried to leave my cane behind more and more, forcing my body to acclimate to walking without one.
I pulled my jacket around me, realizing too late and too many stairs later that a heavier coat would be more appropriate. My gaze instinctively pulled toward the curb where my car would normally be parked behind Josh’s.
I took my time crossing the street, soaking up the sun, and waving to the motorists waiting patiently for me to reach the other side.
JayWok smelled of soy sauce and memories, and I inhaled as deeply as I could. My legs were shaking from muscle fatigue, but I was determined to make it all the way to my favorite booth in the back. My stomach rumbled when I reached my destination, sliding all the way across the seat, next to the window. I lifted my face to the sun, breathing in, trying to remember what it was like to be happy. All my best memories were with Josh. I wasn’t sure I wanted to make new ones.
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