by Ciara Shayee
Everly loops her arm through mine to lead me down the hall, greeting a couple of the nurses on the way and eyeing me curiously when Kerstin makes a point of saying ‘hello’ to me. “You know each other,” she guesses, stopping outside room 1506. I keep my eyes on her, not quite ready to look inside.
“I do.”
It takes a couple of seconds, but it’s obvious when she realizes how and why I know Kerstin. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Blowing out a breath, she squeezes her eyes shut against a sudden rush of tears. “I can’t…I can’t go in there.”
Dread and worry eclipse everything else. If Everly won’t even go in the room, it can’t be good. Steeling myself as best as I can, I pull her against my chest and give her a tight, lingering hug before sucking in a breath and deciding I can’t take it anymore. The distance is too great, and she’s just on the other side of this door.
Every atom of my body screams at me as I leave Everly sniffling into the neck of her sweater and swing the door open, forcing myself to breathe before I pass out.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I see when I step into the room.
The sight of Piper lying still on the bed, her head and neck in a brace and a multitude of wires running from various IVs to machines at her bedside, knocks the breath from my body.
“Christ, Piper.”
Getting closer, I see the little cuts and scrapes littered over her face and arms. I see the stitches holding her left eyebrow together and the split in her otherwise perfect lips.
Hot tears stream over my cheeks as I reach for her hand, mindful of the IV sticking out the back, and intertwine her fingers before giving them a squeeze.
She doesn’t respond.
Dropping slowly to my knees, I rest my forehead against our joined fingers and do something I haven’t done since the day of Willow’s accident.
I pray.
I pray for her injuries to be less life-threatening than they appear right now.
I pray for her to wake up and laugh all this off in her usual way.
I pray for her ability to look at the positives instead of the negatives and her sunny outlook on life.
I pray for her voice, her smile, her love.
But most of all, I pray for the future we could have together. The future I’ve only recently been able to picture.
Throughout my whispered prayers, tears continue to pour over my face unchecked. When I’ve run out of words and my throat is too tight to speak, I wipe my cheek on my shoulder and catch a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye.
Carson stares back at me through the window, his dark eyes narrowed.
*
“Easy!” Arlo squeals, bouncing in his wheelchair as Little Grandma pushes him toward us, Finley at their side. With a faint grin, I tuck my cell into my hoodie pocket and gently hug the boys.
“Hey, you two.” Gently touching the new cast on Arlo’s leg, I cock my head. “Can I draw somethin’ on it?”
His eyes light up. “Yeah!”
In the hours since I arrived, the doctors have figured out that Arlo has a small break in his right ankle. They think it’ll heal fine but he’ll need follow-ups as he grows to make sure it hasn’t caused any lasting damage, and he’ll have to wear a cast for six weeks or so.
Finley and Jaxson are all signed off and ready to go home, but nobody seems to have made any decisions on where they’re going yet. I’m guessing Carson and Bethany will take them home, but there’s no sign of them leaving any time soon.
The Fitzgeralds have been here since yesterday afternoon. Gianna is holding down the fort at home with Danny and has been responsible for bringing fresh clothes and food, and as of this morning, she also has Max now he’s been given a clean bill of health by the veterinarian.
Everyone is doing great—except Piper.
My eyes dance toward the window overlooking the corridor, but her room is out of sight.
Carson and Bethany are with her now. There’s a two person limit and I can’t deny that it kills me that I’m not able to stay by her bedside like I want to, especially now Carson is suspicious. He didn’t wait for me to leave Piper’s room earlier, and I haven’t been able to speak to him since then. He and Bethany were called into Piper’s room a few minutes later and that’s where they’ve been ever since.
“You look like you haven’t slept a wink in days, KP,” Little Grandma tuts as she sits in the seat next to me, Arlo distracted by Sebastian’s arrival with the markers he went to buy when we found out Arlo would be getting a cast.
Sighing, I peer down at Little Grandma and admit, “I couldn’t sleep last night. I’ll sleep later, I just…needed to get here and see that they’re all okay.”
She hums, reaching over to pat my leg. “They’re going to be just fine. I have every faith in our girl to get through this.”
Her sheer confidence bolsters me. I manage a small smile as I grip her hand and tell myself she has to be right.
The hours pass by in a mind-numbing cycle of trying to keep the boys fed and entertained while fielding their questions about their mom. They dig their heels in and refuse to go home when prompted, and nobody wants to deny them right now, so here they stay.
People come and go throughout the day. Friends, family, a couple of the women from Bethany’s crochet club. Sullivan spends some time with us before heading back to my place to get some sleep.
When the boys all get whiny shortly after lunch, I push Arlo to the cafeteria in his wheelchair with Jaxson and Finley trailing along beside him. They shovel jello and ice cream into their mouths as though they’ve never eaten before, then giggle like the carefree little boys they should be when they squeeze onto the chair together and cling on as I jog through any empty corridors we find on our way back to Piper’s floor.
“You boys are crazy,” I tell them with a fond grin, but it slips from my face when Finley lets out a loud gasp and takes off down the corridor toward some familiar voices mixed with one I don’t recognize. However, my amusement quickly returns when I round the corner.
The woman whose legs Finley’s arms are wrapped around needs no introduction.
“I feel like I know you already, Easy.”
Chuckling, I nod. “I know exactly what you mean, Nanny Jude.”
Jude is probably just a shade over five feet tall with curly gray hair, bright hazel eyes, and an infectious smile that brightens even this dim hospital décor. Her neon green cardigan helps, of course.
I’ve spoken to her a handful of times when she and the boys have video called each other. She’s sweet and funny and obviously adores Piper and the boys as if they’re her own, which instantly elevates her in my books. Plus, there’s the fact that she keeps making sneaky references to me and Piper dating. It’s obvious she knows—whether or not that’s just guesswork or Piper’s doing is anyone’s guess until she wakes up. Either way, I appreciate her quiet support.
Turning her attention to Arlo, she gently tweaks his nose and laughs when Jaxson and Finley cling to her skirt, demanding her attention. “Oh, how I’ve missed you boys.”
It’s clear to see they’ve missed her just as much. As she sits in a chair beside me, they all attempt to monopolize her attention by peppering her with questions. She takes it all in stride, kissing each of their heads and reminding them to take turns talking.
However, Jaxson’s question makes her snort with a wry smile. “But you’re scared of planes! How did you get here? Did you have to swim?”
“No, love. I didn’t swim. I got a plane just like you and your momma did. Nothing and nobody was keeping me from my little loves when I heard you’d been in an accident.”
My stomach knots, the boys’ good spirits dampening a little with the reminder of why we’re here.
Jude frowns, rubbing the wrinkle between Jaxson’s brows. “Hey, now, what’s that look for?”
“I wanna see Momma and go home,” he mumbles, twisting
the fabric of her skirt between his fingers.
Looking up at Carson and Bethany, who shake their heads minutely, she sighs. “Can I tell you something? You’re all big boys now, so I know you can handle it.”
“You can tell us, Nanny,” Arlo says quickly, wriggling around so he can face her properly.
Her tone serious now, she tells them to listen carefully. “Momma is poorly right now, you know that. She’s sleeping so the doctors can make sure she’s well enough and won’t be in pain when she wakes up. Don’t you want Momma to feel good when she finishes her nap?”
Eyeing each other, the boys finally nod. “But she’s taking a really long nap, Nanny,” Finley whines. “When’s she gonna wake up? I want to see her. I want to go home.”
His voice trails off into whimpers before fat tears roll over his cheeks and off his chin. Tugging him onto the knee not occupied by his little brother, I hug Finley to me and let him cry into my shirt until his eyes are dry and his breaths aren’t so choppy. Everyone’s emotions are running high, so I’m not surprised by his meltdown.
He, Jaxson, and Arlo have been extraordinarily brave. There’ll probably be a lot more tears before everything is said and done.
Ignoring the eyes on us—Carson and Bethany are both watching with varying degrees of confusion and suspicion while Jude simply smiles—I cup his face in my hands and wipe his cheeks with my thumbs. “Better, buddy?”
He nods, wiping his nose on the back of his arm. “Uh-huh.”
“Good. Now, Nanny Jude is right. Momma is taking a nap, and when she wakes up, hopefully she’ll feel a whole lot better.”
I don’t get a chance to say anything else, my heart taking off at a sprint as Rosie throws open the door to Piper’s room and runs down the hall, her eyes wide and her chest heaving with big breaths. Behind her, I see two nurses and a doctor running into Piper’s room.
“What is it, honey?” Bethany asks, grabbing her daughter’s hands. . “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Rosie whispers, her glassy eyes underscored by her burgeoning smile. “Piper’s waking up.”
There’s a scramble of activity, everyone wanting to get down the hall as fast as possible. When we reach Piper’s room, nobody needs telling that Bethany is going in. A doctor and two nurses are already inside, so there isn’t enough room for more than just her right now. It kills me to stay outside, but just being able to see Piper’s glazed gray eyes as they wheel around the room is a massive relief.
She’s awake. She’s alive, and now she’s awake, too.
Shifting in my arms, Finley reaches out to rest his palm on the window. “Momma…” he whispers.
Holding him tighter, I press a kiss against the side of his head and swallow the lump in my throat. “She’s gonna be okay.”
*
Unlike the few times I’ve seen people wake up from comas in movies, Piper’s reentry into the world is slow and relatively undramatic.
After taking turns sitting with her, each of her siblings head home to get some rest now they’re more confident she’ll be making a full recovery. It’s still touch and go as to whether she’s sustained any lasting damage, but the signs are good.
A few hours pass with a steady stream of medical personnel entering the room while I’m stuck out in the hall. The boys eventually get their turn, leaving a little while later when Piper has drifted back off to sleep. They have smiles on their faces and relief loosens their hunched shoulders.
“Do you feel better now?” I ask Jaxson, cupping his face as he leans into my leg.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “It’s kinda creepy, though. She can’t talk yet so she’s just lookin’ around.”
“That’s normal,” Kerstin says, carrying a pitcher of water toward us. Pausing outside Piper’s door, she offers the boys a smile. “But do you know what? It’ll help her feel better if you keep talking to her whenever you visit. She can hear you just fine, and she can feel it when you hold her hand.”
Jaxson’s face sets with determination. “I’m gonna talk to her lots and hold her hand all the time so she can get better faster.”
“That sounds great, hon.”
Bethany holds the door for Kerstin as she steps out into the corridor, her eyes dry but red. “All right, boys. Shall we get you home for some dinner?” As they all start protesting, she gently hushes them and crouches. “We need to get Nanny Jude all set up in the guest bedroom, too. She’s had a very long day and could probably do with some help, right?”
Jude is a good sport. She nods, plastering a serious look on her face, and fakes an overly-loud yawn. I stifle my grin as she says, “I really could do with some help unpacking my suitcase, if any of you feel up to helping me. It’s awful heavy what with all the presents I brought with me.”
At ‘presents,’ the boys are sold.
“I’ll help you, Nanny Jude,” Arlo tells her happily, his crutches clicking on the floor as he makes his way over to her. He’s getting a little better, a little more coordinated, as the day wears on.
“Well, that’s kind of you, Arlo! I think we could use two more helpers, though. Do you know anybody who might like to help?”
“We’ll do it!” Finley offers, playing right into her hands, and Jaxson agrees.
Smiling big and wide, Bethany leans into Carson’s side and closes her eyes as he kisses her head. My chest aches, my arms empty without Piper to hold. Carson and Bethany’s easy intimacy makes me long for things I can’t have just yet.
The time to tell Piper how I feel is nearing, her parents’ inevitable explosion along with it.
Looking at me, Bethany raises her eyebrows. “Do you want to keep Piper company while we take the boys home?”
Attempting to sound less desperate than I feel, I nod. “I’d be happy to.”
Carson is noticeably silent, his eyes on me as Bethany rounds up the boys and heads for the elevators with Jude. Glancing over her shoulder at Carson, she cocks her head. “Are you coming?”
He smiles and nods, his hands in his pockets. “I’m right behind you. I’m going to check that the doctors have all our details before we leave in case they need to get ahold of us. I have my car, anyway. I’ll meet you at home.”
“Okay, we’ll see you soon. See you later, KP. Thank you for being here today.”
“Bye, Beth,” I say, my tone carefully neutral even as nerves flip my stomach.
Carson isn’t loitering to see the doctors and we both know it.
His hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing hard just as Bethany, Jude, and the boys round the corner. His eyes are dark and narrowed as I sigh and meet his gaze, straightening my shoulders and readying myself for a long-overdue conversation.
“I think it’s time you and I had a chat, KP.”
Twenty-eight
Kellan
The coffees we purchase in the cafeteria have stopped steaming by the time Carson blows out a long breath and fixes his dark stare on my face.
“I’m only going to ask you this once, and I want an honest answer.”
I already know what he’s going to ask, so I skip the part where we pretend otherwise and set my drink down. “I really care about her, Carson. This isn’t a fling or a one-night-stand kind of deal.”
If not for the situation we’re in, I’d find it hard not to laugh at the way his eyebrows leap up toward his hairline.
Raking a hand through my hair, I sigh. “I respect you enough to tell you the truth. You’re my best friend, Cars. You’ve been there for me ever since the day I rocked up here with an ego bigger than Arlo’s.”
This gets a slight smirk out of him, but he remains silent.
“I don’t know what you want me to say here—”
“I want you to say that I’m imagining things when I see you looking at my baby girl like she hung the damn moon, KP!”
There we go.
Fighting a smile, relief rushes through my veins. If he’s shouting, he’s just
mad. It’s a silent Carson you’ve gotta worry about.
Increasingly red-faced, Carson throws his hands in the air and shakes his head. “Shit, KP. You’re like her uncle, for Christ’s sake.”
It’s not the first time he’s said that. Screwing my face up, I firmly tell him he’s wrong. “You may see it like that, Carson, but I—we—don’t. Piper doesn’t view me as her uncle, and I certainly don’t see her as my niece.”
Even the idea of it makes me shudder.
“We know there’s a bit of an age gap, but it hasn’t been an issue for us.”
“A bit?” Carson sputters. “Eleven years is not a bit, KP. When you met, you were eighteen and Piper was seven. She wasn’t even in second grade yet when you were a newlywed.”
“Piper isn’t seven years old anymore. She’s more than old enough to decide who she loves.”
I immediately regret my choice of words.
His eyes narrow, his voice eerily soft. “Who she loves?”
Swallowing hard, I rub the back of my neck. I wanted Piper to be the first to know I love her, but Sullivan knows now, and if telling Carson helps him accept this, accept us, isn’t it worth it?
My heart thumps hard enough I’m sure he must be able to hear it. “Yes, who she loves. I love your daughter, Carson. I didn’t think I was capable of falling in love again and it definitely wasn’t something I expected or even wanted. I wasn’t looking for this, but here I am, stupidly in love with a woman who has no idea and desperately hoping my best friend can look past the age difference to see that I’m happy, we’re happy.”
His jaw ticks, his dark eyes stormy as his fingers drum the tabletop. I don’t know what I was expecting, but his continued silence isn’t it.
“I don’t like it.”
My heart falls. “Carson—”
“No, KP. You’ve had your chance to talk. I’ve had the mother of shitty weekends. I spent half of yesterday thinking I was going to lose my daughter.”
I flinch at his unsaid words. And you know what that feels like. Reminding myself that he’s not himself right now, I take a deep breath and try to put myself in his shoes.