Not You It's Me

by Julie Johnson

  My gaze searches for his and, when I find it, I see his eyes are edged with a sadness that makes my breath catch. Belatedly, I realize my beautiful, heartbreaking man has never had this – the kind of friendship that can withstand anything. (Even car chases and near death experiences.) He’s never been part of a family like this – never been a part of any family, really. He’s never felt the kind of unconditional love that I share with these crazy people I call best friends.

  My brows lift as our gazes hold. I hope he can read the message in my eyes.

  Come join us, Chase.

  He shakes his head and I know it’s because he doesn’t want to interfere.

  You’re part of this, now, I tell him, our stares still locked intensely. Part of my life, part of my friends, part of my family. Come on. Join us, love.

  His eyes flash dark with emotion and I know if we were alone, he’d be kissing the breath out of me, right now. In steady strides, he crosses the room to my side, laying his hand on my shoulder and squeezing gently. I know it’s his way of saying thank you.

  It’s a good way.

  Shelby, Chrissy, and Mark all smile warmly at him as he takes his place in our small circle.

  In our family.

  I’m so overwrought, all I can do is look down at the baby in my arms, barely able to make out her features through the tears swimming in my eyes.

  “She’s beautiful,” I choke out. “So beautiful.”

  “Just like her godmother,” Chase says quietly, his voice warm. I tilt my head to look up at him, grinning through my tears.

  He gazes at me with the baby in my arms and something a lot like longing flashes in the depths of his eyes. Before I can freak out too much, he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead.

  “Mark! Why don’t you ever say romantic things like that to me anymore, huh?” Chrissy is teasing — I can hear the laughter in her voice.

  “Because we’re married,” Mark says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes are twinkling as he stares at his wife. “Isn’t that the whole point of getting married? So you never have to compliment anyone ever again? If not, I’m going to have to reconsider some things…”

  “You’re going to get it, mister!” Chrissy yells, wheeling toward him with a murderous look on her face. “Come back here!”

  Mark laughs as he backs out of the room and down the hall, away from his wheelchair-bound wife, who seems intent on revenge. Their laughter carries back to us long after they’ve faded out of sight.

  “Those two.” Shelby rolls her eyes, then looks at me. “And now you two. For god’s sake, can we tone down the lovey-dovey crap? It’s enough to make me toss my cookies.”

  “You don’t eat cookies,” I point out.

  “It’s a figure of speech!” she grumbles. “You know what, I’m going to go make sure those two don’t kill each other.” Leaning down, she presses a kiss to Summer’s forehead, followed by mine. “Feel better, Gem. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

  “Bye, Shelbs. Thanks for coming.”

  With a final wink in Chase’s direction, she slips through the door and disappears.

  I look up at him, then down at the baby in my arms. “I have a namesake. How cool is that?”

  “Pretty cool, sunshine.” He settles in beside me on the bed and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Though, if she turns out to be half as much trouble as you, I pity the man who falls for her.”

  I still, at those words, my heart racing in my chest. I almost say it, then.

  I love you.

  But something holds me back.

  “Speaking of trouble…” I swallow. “Have you heard anything about Ralph and Vanessa?”

  “Funny thing happened.” He chuckles lowly. “Turns out, before Chrissy ran out of phone battery, she managed to film a good portion of their conversation in that parking garage. It’s essentially a taped confession. The police caught them less than a mile away from the spot your car crashed — as soon as they got them in custody, they turned on each other faster than a flipped coin.”

  “Wow,” I breathe.

  “Yeah. And that’s not all.” He looks at me, his eyes suddenly serious. “When I went into the water after you, Knox chased down Hawkins — or, The Hulk, as you like to call him. He’s in police custody, facing charges for kidnapping, assault, reckless endangerment, and attempted murder.”

  “Holy cow.”

  Chase nods. “Word is, he’s cutting a deal. If he gives the DA everything he has on Brett, they’ll shave some years off his sentence. If not, with that many charges… he’s looking at some serious time behind bars.”

  “So, after all these years, after everything he’s done… Brett might go to jail?”

  Chase nods. “Assuming his lawyers can’t get him off.”

  “Finally,” I breathe, relieved.

  “Finally,” Chase echoes, his mouth tugging up at the corners. “There’s something else.”

  My eyebrows go up.

  “Your mother is here,” he says gently. “And… so is your father.”

  “Oh.”

  I’m truly too stunned to say anything.

  “I told them to wait in the lobby, for now. I wasn’t sure you’d want to see them.” His eyes ask a question I’m not sure I have the answer to.

  I swallow hard. “I guess… I guess they can come in.”

  “Are you sure, sunshine?”

  I nod. “I’m sure.”

  “Then I’ll go get them.”

  ***

  I’m practically levitating off the bed with nerves, waiting for Chase to return with my parents in tow.

  A kind nurse came by and took Summer back to the nursery while he was gone, and without her in my arms I’m not sure where to focus my restless energy. Fighting the urge to fidget, I clasp my hands together and wait for them to arrive.

  Mom’s crying before she even sees me.

  “Gemma!” she exclaims, crossing the room in a blur of motion, until her hands are wrapped tight around mine. “Baby girl, I was so worried.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

  She doesn’t say anything — she’s crying too hard – but as she pulls me close, I know no matter what happens, no matter how many fights we have or how many angry words we exchange… she’ll always be my mom. And I’ll always love her, flaws and all.

  I hear the sound of a throat clearing, and my eyes move toward the door. There’s a tall, dark-haired man standing there with a bouquet of beautiful red and black flowers in his arms.

  “Gemma.” He takes a few tentative steps into the room, his posture stiff. “I’m Milo West. I’m… I’m your father.”

  My eyes dart to Chase and he nods slightly, reassuring me with that tiny motion.

  You can do this, sunshine.

  I force my eyes back to Milo’s and see, in the depths of his gaze, that he’s nervous despite his frigid manner.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say quietly. “Thanks… for coming.”

  He nods, looking more than a little overwhelmed. I take pity on him.

  “Are those for me?” I ask, my eyes dropping to the flowers in his arms.

  “Oh… Yes, of course.” He looks around at the million peonies, then down at the single bouquet in his arms, clearly feeling flustered. “I didn’t think you’d have so many already…”

  “Are they poppies?” I ask, extending my arms for them. “They’re beautiful.”

  He nods, taking the final steps forward and gently laying the bouquet in my arms.

  “Your sister… they’ve always been her favorite.” His voice is halting, awkward, forced — but he’s trying. Even I can see that. And right now, in just this moment, fresh off a near-death experience… I’m willing to give him a free pass.

  I tilt my head forward to inhale their fragrance. “Thank you, Milo.”

  He tries out an uneasy smile.

  “Mom, will you put them in some water for me?” I ask, passing the flowers to her.


  “Sure, baby girl.” She pulls them to her chest. I see more tears gathering in her eyes when she leans in to press a kiss to my forehead, then turns for the door. “Chase, why don’t you help me track down a vase?” she asks, her voice clogged with emotion.

  Chase meets my eyes and I nod.

  I’m okay.

  “Of course, Petra.” He lets Mom tug him out the door without protest.

  “I can go, too. I’m sure you need to rest.” Milo shifts from foot to foot, looking anywhere but at me as he prepares to head out after them.

  “Why don’t you stay?” I ask, halting him with my words.

  His eyes find mine, full of uncertainty… and hope.

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Tell me about Phoebe. And Parker. I’d love to know more about them both.”

  He looks a little shell-shocked as he settles into the chair beside my bed, but once he starts talking, he seems to relax a bit.

  And here I thought this day couldn’t get any stranger.

  Of all the things I didn’t expect about the last twenty-four hours — car chases, kidnappings, surprise births, near drownings — me, sitting with my father, having a civilized conversation was the last one I’d have predicted. And yet… it’s really not so terrible. In fact, listening to him talk about the siblings I’ll hopefully get to know one day…

  It’s actually kind of nice.

  ***

  By the time everyone goes home, it’s well into the evening and I’m so exhausted, my eyes are drooping shut. Chrissy’s been officially discharged — she and Mark were eager to get the newest addition to their family home as soon as possible — and Shelby has gone to make dinner for Paul, who’s expected back from a business trip any hour now.

  They both assured me they’d visit first thing in the morning.

  My parents left a few hours before my friends — Mom, with a crushing hug that made my sore ribs ache, and Milo, with a stiff nod and an awkward hand-squeeze — with promises to check in on me soon.

  Considering the fact that yesterday I wasn’t speaking to either of them, I’m going to say there’s at least one silver lining to almost dying.

  My phone has been ringing off the hook all day as everyone from Estelle (who cursed rapidly in French for several long minutes) to Katy (the Crumble bakery owner) to Phoebe (who I didn’t even know had my number) calls to check in on me. I want to talk to them but Chase won’t let me, insisting I need my rest – which he may or may not be right about. Sitting by my bedside, he takes message after message and never complains, his free hand wrapped tight around mine.

  At the end of visiting hours, I find myself looking forward to some much-needed rest… Until another knock sounds at the door.

  “Who is it now?” Chase mutters, his voice low.

  My bleary eyes lift to the entryway and, to my great surprise, land on a frail old woman in a floor-length blue pea coat, toting a massive black bag over one shoulder.

  “Gemma, dear!”

  “Mrs. Hendrickson?” My voice is laced with surprise as I sit up straighter in bed. “Is that you?”

  “No, it’s Sophia Loren – of course it’s me, dear.” She clucks as she walks further inside the room. She stops when she catches sight of Chase, who’s still hovering at my bedside. “And you must be the billionaire everyone’s been going on about. I’m Gemma’s neighbor, downstairs in 1C. I’m sure she’s told you about me.”

  “I’m Chase.” A slow grin stretches across his lips as he extends a hand in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  She stares at his hand for a moment without shaking it, her eyes narrowing. “You know, those reporters trampled all over the flower beds outside our building because of you.”

  Chase makes an effort to bury his grin, but it’s not very successful. His voice is thick with mirth and his lips are twitching when he responds. “I’ll be sure to have them replaced, ma’am.”

  “Well, then.” She nods in satisfaction, slides her hand into his, and shakes firmly before her eyes swivel to meet mine. “You picked a good one, Gemma dear.”

  I look at Chase. “I know.”

  “But I must say, you look positively a fright.” Mrs. Hendrickson shakes her head in disapproval as her eyes move over my battered features. “We heard what happened from the landlord – everyone in the building is simply buzzing about it – and we just had to pop by and make sure you were okay!”

  “We?” I ask, somewhat alarmed by her use of the plural. “What do you mean, we?”

  “Me and Bigelow – who else?” Her soft blue eyes crinkle up in a smile as she lowers her large purse onto the end of my bed. I nearly jump out of my skin when a furry orange head pops out the top of the bag, triangular ears pointed sharply toward the ceiling and slanted feline eyes narrowed on me.

  “I don’t think cats are allowed in the ICU,” I murmur, my eyes wide as they move from Bigelow to Chase – who’s looking extremely amused, by the way.

  Mrs. Hendrickson clucks. “Well, of course not, dear. Why do you think he stowed away inside my purse?”

  “I…well…”

  I trail off, at a loss for words.

  A muffled chuckle erupts from Chase’s direction. A second later, I feel one of his hands lace through mine and squeeze tightly. His other reaches out to stroke Bigelow’s fur, eliciting a loud purr as soon as his fingers make contact.

  “I just knew he’d be a cat person,” Mrs. Hendrickson murmurs happily, staring up at Chase in adoration.

  I feel a smile twitching at my lips as I reach out to scratch the cat behind one ear.

  “Thanks for bringing him, Mrs. Hendrickson.”

  “Don’t thank me, dear. Just get better.” She smiles. “After all, I’ll need you to look after Bigelow again in a few weeks, when I go back to Phoenix to watch my youngest grandson graduate high school. And you know he’s quite an active cat – he can’t be with someone who’s confined to a hospital bed all day.”

  “Of course not,” I agree, my voice choked with laughter.

  Chase chuckles full-out as his hand tightens on mine, and the sound is so packed with joy, it warms me down to the core of my bones.

  ***

  Later, it’s dark and quiet in my room, the only sound that of the machines gently whirring and our slow breaths, mingling in the space between our faces as we share a too-thin pillow on my cramped hospital bed.

  “You look exhausted,” Chase whispers in the darkness, his lips finding mine in a soft kiss. “Go to sleep, sunshine.”

  “Will you still be here, when I wake up?” I ask sleepily.

  “Stupid question.”

  I smile. “Good.”

  He chuckles against my hair. “I think the nurses have given up on trying to kick me out.”

  “I told them to leave you alone.” I shrug. “I figure if I slip into a coma again, I’d like it to happen in the arms of the man I love.”

  He goes completely still and when he speaks, his voice is low, intent.

  “Care to repeat that, sunshine?”

  I turn to look into his eyes, smiling and crying at the same time. “I know it’s crazy and way too fast and I probably should wait to say it until we’ve figured things out – important things, like whether you snore and where all my books are going to go, because your shelves are already full, and obviously your stance on real, sugary Pop-Tarts versus the gross, healthy-alternative filling ones.” I pull in a breath. “But the thing is, I almost died yesterday, and I guess none of those little details seem super important anymore. I don’t know when my expiration date will come around – it might not be for fifty years, or ten years, or two months. It might be tomorrow, or five minutes from now. I don’t know when I’m going to leave this earth. But, whenever that is… I want to go knowing that I came clean. That I told you everything. And the truth is… I love you, Chase Croft. I really, really love you.”

  His eyes go soft as they move over my features and when he speaks, his voice is more emo
tional than I’ve ever heard it – tender and hopeful and happy.

  “For the record… I like the sugary Pop-Tarts.”

  I blink in surprise before his words catch up with me and a grin overtakes my face. “Really?”

  He nods, staring at me for a beat with something a lot like awe in his eyes. “You love me?”

  My voice cracks. “I love you.”

  “Does this mean you’re officially moving in?”

  I sigh. “God, you’re incorrigible.”

  He grins. “You’re moving in.”

  “This doesn’t mean you get to boss me around.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “There will be absolutely no macho-man, bossy-pants shenanigans allowed.”

  “Whatever you say, sunshine.”

  “You’re doing that thing, where you pretend I’m getting my way just so I’ll let you off the hook, aren’t you?”

  His grin widens. “See? You know me so well, already.”

  I groan. “This is going to be a disaster.”

  “Maybe.” He brushes his lips against mine. “But I love you, too, sunshine. I really, really love you. And even if it’s too fast, even if it’s a mess, even if it’s crazy… it’ll be our mess. Our crazy. And that’s really all I need.”

  “Well, then...” My eyes are watering, which kind of takes the heat out of my argument. “I’ll have you know, I’ve got conditions.”

  “Conditions?”

  “If I’m going to move in.” I stare into his eyes, deadly serious. “For starters, I’m going to need a waffle maker. I don’t care if you don’t like them — a girl needs a waffle maker, Chase. It’s a rule.”

  His lips twitch. “I think we can manage that.”

  “And!” I point a finger at him, in case he thought he was getting off easy. “How do you feel about chocolate cupcakes?”

  “They’re pretty good.” He shrugs. “Especially from that place Crumble on Beacon Street.”

  My eyes fill with tears again, and this time they spill over.

  Chase looks at me like I’m crazy. “Sunshine, if you don’t like the cupcakes there, we can go somewhere else. I don’t think Maria’s makes cupcakes, but we both agree, their cannoli are top notch—”