Turn for Home

by Lara Zielinsky

  "How are they?" Rachelle asked.

  "I hope they're at least trying to sleep. Thomas was very upset."

  "Did they know about you and Cass before the news coverage today?"

  Brenna exhaled. "Yes. Only since the holiday break, though. Thomas had developed a crush on Cass."

  "So your son had a crush on your girlfriend."

  "She wasn't...we weren't together yet." Brenna sat back and focused on some distant point in time.

  "So, you opened up and became friends. That's easy enough to understand." Rachelle continued with open curiosity, "I just don't...what turned you on to her physically?"

  Brenna responded sheepishly, "Her feet."

  "Excuse me?" Rachelle choked on a startled laugh. "Her feet?"

  Trying to find a way to explain, Brenna stood up and stepped away from the chair. "What part of your body hurts the most at the end of a shooting day; what's the absolute worst?"

  Without hesitation, Rachelle responded, "My back. Playing Luria just kills my back." Looking up in bemusement, she asked, "What about you?"

  "My feet. My calves. Jakes is a strider. When I turn her 'off, my first order of business is a foot massage, then I can actually drive home." Brenna sat down on the edge of the bed. "I caught Cassidy once, just collapsed in her trailer. I don't remember why I thought to follow her. She had her arm over her face. I remember I just grabbed her shoes off." Brenna paused and Rachelle nodded. Brenna finished, "And I massaged her feet."

  Leaning back across the foot of the bed, Brenna sighed.

  Staring at the ceiling, she added, "Cass looked at me and it wasn't 'have you lost your mind?' It was more like, 'Thank God, I could just kiss you.' I felt fire in my stomach, Chelle." Brenna's hands folded over her abdomen, and she traced idly, obviously remembering. "My fingers tingled and my chest ached. And I wanted her."

  Rachelle felt a rush of heat from Brenna's retelling, as if her friend had just told her how she and Cassidy made love. "God," she managed with a steadying breath, "was that the first kiss?"

  "No. That came on our camping trip."

  "The one Cassidy came back from all excited about mountain climbing?" Brenna smiled fondly as Rachelle asked, "Did she climb more than just the Sierra peaks?" Brenna blushed, but shook her head. "You didn't make love then?"

  "No, but we both knew we would."

  "Brenna, how did you, you know, know what to do?"

  She shook her head. "Cass did. I didn't. When it first happened, instinct failed. I think we over thought the whole thing," she considered honestly.

  "But you're together now?"

  "The night she came back from her parents, neither of us thought very much at all. It was all feelings." She exhaled. "It was the most incredible experience. Never have I had this happen. Not with Tom and not with Kevin. Not even Will, though we had a lot of fun briefly. Lying there together..."

  Rachelle's blush indicated she was envisioning the two women wrapped around one another. Brenna's voice was soft and awed as she continued.

  "I didn't need to say anything, not a word, and she didn't either." Brenna inhaled raggedly and hugged herself. "I saw it in her face. Like I was reading her mind."

  Brenna fell silent, rubbing her shoulders and thinking of that night, shaking from the mere memory of the emotions. There was a sound from down the hall — worn, badly oiled wheels rolling against linoleum. Bolting to her feet, Brenna ran to the doorway, Rachelle quickly at her side.

  Two interns in hospital greens pushed an occupied gurney toward them. A gauze cap covered his head, and a mask still hung around his throat. Pausing at the nurses station, the lead intern lifted the clipboard from the dangling IV stand, signed it and handed it across the counter. He spotted the women outside 408. "Hi," he said with a friendly smile. "Friends of the patient?"

  The patient was covered chest to toes by a green sheet and a cotton blanket. The head was covered in white gauze. Brenna stepped close, reaching out hesitantly, but anxious to see for herself.

  "Something like that," Rachelle answered. Brenna had finally given in to her need and was gingerly running a fingertip over Cassidy's bandaged cheek, so Rachelle asked, "How is she?"

  The interns pushed the gurney along again, and Brenna followed. "The doctor'll be up here after he's cleaned up. She was in real trouble. We did a lot of work on her chest and her stomach. Whoever did this managed to bang her around pretty good. We had to reset her jaw, too, and put a steel pin in to stabilize it."

  "What about her heart?" Brenna finally asked. Rachelle reached out a hand, cupping her shoulder.

  "We drained off the fluid, and that should stabilize on its own now. She's going to have to be very quiet for several days. Then there's all the healing she'll need for the broken ribs."

  "How many were broken?" Rachelle asked.

  "Three. A total of five were floating, though. She'll need intensive care for now. A regular room might be possible in a few days. She'll be recovering from this for a long time, though it doesn't look like there was any permanent spinal injury."

  "Thank God," Brenna breathed. She pulled down the sheet and watched, holding her breath, as the interns both grabbed the sheets wrapped around Cassidy and moved her to the bed.

  "She'll be under for a while longer, so don't worry. The doctor can tell you more about her post-op care when he gets here."

  Brenna grasped his hands. "Thank you," she said earnestly, looking up into his face.

  "Pretty special lady?"

  "More than I can express."

  He nodded, and the two interns left.

  Brenna immediately returned to Cassidy's bedside, leaning over the railing and staring down at the still face.

  Rachelle came up along the other side of the bed. "Mitch broke her jaw?" she asked, noting the heavy bandaging and recalling the mention of a pin.

  "I guess. God." Brenna's eyes trailed down Cassidy's chest. Rachelle watched as Brenna found the puffy blue and black left hand and cupped it in her own, tracing over the scrapes with her fingertips.

  "Looks like she got in a few good hits on him herself," Rachelle said.

  "She did. I saw his face. She's got one mean right hook."

  Rachelle saw Brenna's frown. "What?"

  "I'm going to find out when Mitch is scheduled to be arraigned," she said, a definite chill in her voice. "I want to testify. Mitch Hyland needs to stay behind bars. He could've killed Cass. He would have if we hadn't found them when we did."

  Brenna's eyes watered as she brushed hair from Cassidy's temple. Much of it was trapped under bandages and Rachelle suspected some of it had been shaved away. Brenna leaned forward and pressed her lips to Cassidy's. The look on Brenna's face made Rachelle feel like she was intruding on a very private moment. She waited until the other woman straightened. "Well?"

  "She looks better."

  Rachelle took in what was visible of Cassidy's bruised face, though it was almost completely hidden behind the bandages covering her jaw. Next her gaze drifted to the cast-bound right wrist, and the heavy strapping around Cassidy's waist immobilizing her damaged ribs. And there was all the internal damage the intern had mentioned which she couldn't even see. "This is better? Jesus." She couldn't imagine much worse.

  The skewed images began to fade from her mind and pain invaded. Cassidy groaned and opened her eyes. Curling on her side, or at least making the attempt, sparked agony, and her eyes widened. The dimly lit room took shape. She was lying on a bed. Overhead she made out the runner for a curtain and turned her head to find the source of a low hum. The monitor beeped periodically. She couldn't make out what was on the blurry green screen.

  She swallowed; her mouth was dry and uncomfortable. The muscles in her face and throat also were not responding as she expected. Putting a hand to her face dumbfounded her as the dulled sensation of bandaged flesh met other bandages.

  "Where am I?" she thought, but the sensation in her throat suggested she had spoken aloud.

  "You're in Pasadena City
General Hospital."

  She turned toward the voice and found a woman wearing a white smock covered in flowers standing at the foot of her bed. She had a clipboard in her hand. "You're a nurse."

  "Yes. I'm sorry my checking on you woke you up."

  "What time is it?"

  "Four-thirty in the morning. Your friend there finally fell asleep about half an hour ago, after the brunette left."

  Cassidy's gaze followed the nod down to her left side. There was an arm across her abdomen, creating a dull pressure. The woman's right arm was bent under her face, the sight of which created a warm stir of familiarity. "She can't be comfortable," Cassidy remarked, moving her hand until it brushed the slack upturned cheek.

  "She settled there and hasn't moved. I offered her the empty bed, but she wanted to be close by in case you woke up."

  Carefully moving her bandaged hand, Cassidy let her fingertips absorb the sensation of fine hair as she stroked the sleeping woman's warm cheek. She is clearly someone I'm very close to, she thought, recognizing the fullness in her chest as deep affection.

  Fine lashes flickered against skin and eyelids fluttered open, revealing clear blue eyes that gradually focused on her. Cassidy's chest hurt with anxiety as she waited. "Hi," she offered uncertainly.

  Almost as tangible as a warm blanket, the woman's husky reply soothingly wrapped around her. "Hi," the woman said as her lips curled into a tired but adoring smile. Then she sat up, reaching out a hand toward her.

  Cassidy pressed back uneasily into the pillows. "Um." Warm fingers brushed over her forehead. A smile that made her insides melt held her attention.

  "Cass? It's Bren. How are you feeling?"

  A sense of trust replaced her hesitation, and of all the questions plaguing her, she asked only, "What happened to me?"

  Brenna stood up and Cassidy let her gaze follow her up until the pain in her neck and back stopped the motion. She listened carefully as Brenna spoke.

  "Would you mind if I turn on a light?"

  "No. I mean, go ahead."

  The light bar above her head flickered on and Cassidy studied Brenna's back before she turned around again. The woman's face — such a beautiful, demurely featured face, Cassidy thought appreciatively — was suddenly alarmingly serious. "What do you remember?"

  "From when?"

  "Anything at all in the last twenty-four hours?"

  Cassidy closed her eyes, willing something to float to the surface of her mind. She furrowed her brow, momentarily making her headache worse. A brown cartoon moose and a squirrel in an aviator's cap appeared, completely befuddling her. What are their names? She opened her eyes. "Why would I be seeing a pair of cartoon characters?"

  Brenna met her expression with a confused one of her own "Who?"

  Searching her reluctant-to-respond brain, Cassidy puzzled, "A moose and a squirrel? The moose is...Bull...winkle? The squirrel is... Rocket?"

  "Rocky," Brenna corrected softly. Cassidy could see tears glistening in the pale eyes. "Oh boy," Brenna worried.

  "You haven't answered my question."

  "What question?"

  "What happened to me?"

  Brenna sat down again. "You're in the hospital. Your ex-husband, Mitch...we found him beating you in the childcare trailer. I don't know what set him off."

  "He..." Cassidy tried to think. "We were arguing...custody. He wanted to take Ryan away because I was dating a lesbian." She screwed up her features. "That doesn't sound right."

  "We're dating, Cass."

  "We are?" Cassidy shook her head. "You're a lesbian?"

  Brenna cupped her cheek and kissed her lips. Cassidy suddenly had a flash of holding this woman down and kissing her in a darkened tent, the material of a sleeping bag against her legs. She smiled. "Seems you are."

  Brenna laughed. "Actually, before you, I had no experience at all with women. You're the one who had a girl in college."

  "I don't think so. My parents would have killed me."

  "Maybe that's why it didn't last." Brenna fidgeted. "I need to tell you something."

  "What is it?"

  "Your parents are on their way here."

  Cassidy frowned. My parents are coming? She felt a wave of nausea and closed her eyes, hoping it would pass, but the sensation only grew stronger. A face, fleshy and mottled red in rage, appeared in her mind, accompanied by physical pain, which suddenly constricted her chest, choking off her breath. She gasped.

  With a firm touch, Brenna cupped her cheeks. "Shh! Shh, it's okay. Shhh."

  The whispered reassurances gradually calmed Cassidy, and the disruption in her breathing subsided, but the alarm had sounded when Cassidy's heart rate sped up and tripped the threshold on the monitor, so the nurse appeared.

  Brenna looked back over her shoulder and said clearly, "She shows...signs...shhhh..." She interrupted herself to soothe Cassidy again. "She's disoriented, not sure of some things."

  The nurse nodded. "I'll get the doctor."

  "My...parents," Cassidy gasped, aware of tears painfully clogging her throat as she clung to Brenna. "I had an image of a very angry man."

  Her lips against Cassidy's hair, Brenna asked, "Describe him?" Still shivering, Cassidy did. "Must be your father, as you last saw him. Your ex-husband, Mitch, doesn't look anything like that."

  Cassidy felt another kiss against her temple.

  The sensation of the hug and the kiss awakened another memory. "Ryan?" She looked around. "Where's Ryan?" She had a sudden memory of being in a small office, wondering where Ryan was. Brenna had been with her.

  Brenna exhaled and pulled back, meeting Cassidy's gaze. "This is probably going to sound like a stupid question, but...humor me?"

  Instinct driving her, Cassidy agreed. "Yes."

  "What's Ryan's connection to you?"

  Cassidy blinked then answered with some assurance, "He's my son."

  Brenna's smile was brilliant, and Cassidy's heart lurched with pleasure.

  "How old is he?"

  "He's...five. He...his birthday was...several months ago, October 8th. I gave a party."

  "Yes, you did." Brenna's smile softened and she cupped Cassidy's chin again. "Ryan is at my house for now. Terry Brown will be bringing him by later today."

  "Why is Ryan staying with you?"

  "You, um, didn't have anyone else to watch him. He gets along well with my sons, and I thought it would be okay."

  "We work together." Brenna nodded. Cassidy went on, grasping at facts as they occurred to her. "Terry Brown. He...works with us, too." Cassidy had a scary flash of a dark-skinned man grasping her and yelling in her face. It left her vaguely unsettled, but not as much as the image of her father. "He's not usually scary."

  "Not usually. You must be remembering filming a scene with us. I vividly remember one about six weeks ago that scared you "

  "Filming?"

  "You're an actor. So am I. We work together on a series called Time Trails."

  Cassidy studied Brenna. A sensation of intimacy flowed through her as their eyes met. "And we're dating?"

  "Yes. It hasn't been very long to wrap our heads around it."

  "That was a nice kiss. I don't think I'd have forgotten for long."

  Brenna blushed, but tried to explain. "Mitch's attack gave you a concussion. That's how it works sometimes."

  "So that's why some things are hard to remember?"

  Another voice answered, "You took some pretty hard blows to the head."

  Cassidy and Brenna looked toward the end of the bed. Brenna straightened up and turned toward the doctor. "She does seem to be piecing things together."

  "Does she remember anything about the incident that caused her injuries?" he asked. Brenna shook her head. "It will probably come back to her." He turned back to Cassidy, addressing her directly. "You'll have trouble for a little while. Your brain was severely bruised." He studied her chart. "What's your name?"

  "Cassidy Hyland," Cassidy answered automatically. Seeing Brenna's surprise, she add
ed, "That's good, right?"

  The doctor nodded. "Good. Birthday?"

  She hesitated, clearly searching her foggy memory. "February 18th, 1968."

  "Excellent. Just the short term memory centers are affected, apparently." He put down the clipboard and pulled an otoscope out of his coat pocket. "I'm going to take a look inside your head."

  For reassurance, Cassidy held Brenna's hand while the doctor examined her eyes and ears. "Do you have any ringing in your ears?"

  "No."

  "Any dark spots in your vision?"

  "No."

  Removing the pillow from behind her head, he helped Cassidy He back flat. Again holding Brenna's hand, Cassidy grimaced at the Prodding and gasped at one particular poke to her left ribcage. "It's going to be a good six weeks on those ribs," he said, "but your chest sounds are finally clear."

  He checked the IV bag. "I'll have a different antibiotic switched into your drip. How's your stomach feel? Your chest?"

  As he palpated those areas, she bit her lip to keep from making a sound, but she had to squeeze her eyes shut, and still tears dripped down her cheeks. At last he stopped probing her.

  "You had a hemopneumothorax and lost a lot of blood. There was heavy damage to your liver and spleen. Surgery took care of some of it, but there's going to be a lot of drainage. You'll have another day or two on IV fluids, then start on a liquid diet. Maybe Saturday you'll be ready for something more substantial. If you're very good," he added with a smile. "We'll get you into a general room as soon as I'm sure there is no danger of blood clots."

  "But she is getting better?" Brenna asked.

  He addressed Cassidy. "You're conscious. Fairly self-aware. Your eyes are clear and alert. There are no indications the swelling around the base of your skull cut off anything vital and the swelling has gone down. A day or two more and I'll be able to make a better prognosis, but I'd cautiously project that full recovery is quite possible."

  Cassidy squeezed Brenna's hand, exchanging a shy smile with the other woman when she turned. "Thank you, Doctor."

  "I'll be back for my regular rounds at eight." When Cassidy nodded her understanding, he left.

  Brenna exhaled in relief. "Thank God."