Aria (Duet Series Book 1)

by Jennifer Hartmann

  “You’re not flustered sitting here having a conversation with a celebrity?” Noah asked curiously, glancing back and forth between Beth and his son.

  She shrugged. “Not really. My cousin says it’s my super-power. I ran into Lady Gaga last year and we still text each other to this day.”

  Noah raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

  “Yep. Super-power,” she laughed. A moment of silence passed between them before she stood up from the bench. “Well, we were just passing through. Here’s my number if you want to be added into my contact group of ‘cool famous people I randomly meet’.”

  She jotted down her number on another piece of notebook paper and placed it in his hand.

  “Thanks,” Noah said.

  “Enjoy.” Beth nodded toward Sam with a smile and took off down the sidewalk.

  Noah studied the wrinkled piece of paper in his hand. Every other phone number he’d been given by a fan had gone straight into the trash. Yet, this one he folded up and placed into his back pocket.

  Twenty minutes went by. Noah was texting back and forth with Sean when he heard a scream.

  Sam’s scream.

  No.

  Noah flew off the bench so fast, it felt like an otherworldly force had sprung him to his feet. He raced around the corner of the playground to where he saw Sam lying crumpled next to the foot of the slide. He glanced up to the top of the play structure and noticed an opening where a small child could easily fall through if they weren’t careful. It had to have been at least a twelve-foot drop.

  “Sam. Oh, my God.” Noah rushed to his son, pulling out his phone and frantically dialing 9-1-1. His hands were shaking so hard, he tried three times before finally getting the number combination correct. He crouched over the little boy and checked his pulse.

  He was alive. He was breathing. Sam was unconscious and his arm was twisted behind his back.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  “I’m at Holden Park off Center Street. My son just fell off the top of the playground and he’s unconscious. Please fucking hurry.”

  Noah knew enough to know he shouldn’t move Sam until the paramedics arrived or he could cause more damage. He sat beside him, running his hand over his forehead, gently moving his light brown hair out of his eyes. “You’re going to be okay, Sammy. You’re going to be okay.”

  The ambulance arrived within three minutes. They were the longest three minutes of Noah’s life.

  The following moments went by in a daze. A neck brace. A gurney. Oxygen. Flashing lights. Bystanders gathering. Medical jargon. Sam’s tiny body being lifted into the back of the ambulance. Someone was talking to him.

  Someone was talking to him.

  “Sir, are you going to follow?”

  Noah’s vision was blurred. The voice sounded like it was under water. Or maybe in slow motion. Possibly in a different language. He blinked his eyes. “What?”

  The EMT continued to speak. “Sir, are you okay to follow? Are you his father?”

  “My son… he’s my son. Yes.”

  “Did you want to ride with us? We need to go now.”

  Noah began to process the man’s words. He nodded slowly and followed the paramedic into the back of the ambulance. There was IV equipment, cardiac monitors, and oxygen tanks. Sam’s vitals were being taken as he lay there unconscious. Why wouldn’t he wake up? Was he in a coma? The ride to the hospital was brief. When they arrived, Noah tried to follow the staff down the hallway. The EMT stopped him.

  “A doctor will speak with you soon,” the man said.

  Noah didn’t understand. “He’s my son. I need to be with my son.”

  “Your son is in good hands.”

  Noah stood paralyzed.

  Sam could die.

  The realization settled in and he felt like he’d been sucker-punched in the gut. Sweat pooled at his hairline. He felt dizzy and weak.

  Chelsie. He had to tell Chelsie.

  Noah fumbled with his cell phone, his fingers trembling. He paced the hallway back and forth. Back and forth. Chelsie picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey, Noah.”

  “I’m at Presbyterian. Can you come?”

  There was a pause of silence. “The hospital?”

  “Yes. Can you come?”

  More silence. “Noah. What happened?”

  There was fear in her voice. There was panic. Noah choked on his words. “It’s Sam.”

  ***

  Chelsie raced through the emergency room doors, her eyes searching for Noah. She spotted him sitting in a waiting room chair with his head in his hands. She rushed to him in her frumpy sweater and house slippers.

  “Noah?”

  His name was a question. A query. It was a yearning for answers, an apology, a solace, a hug, and a quiet consolation all in one breath. Chelsie found herself crouching down in front of him, placing her body between his legs. She pressed her unsteady hands on each one of his knees. She noticed them trembling ever so slightly beneath her palms. Noah raised his head, and their eyes locked in a powerful hold.

  “Noah.”

  This time it was permission. Permission to break and permission to cry. Permission to scream, and curse, and blame, and crumble.

  He did break. He let his head fall between her breasts, his body overwrought with painful sobs. Chelsie pulled him closer and rested her cheek against the top of his head. She ran delicate fingers through his hair. She felt his warm tears stain the front of her sweater.

  She held him. She stroked the back of his neck until his tears subsided. Noah’s face was pressed up against her heartbeat, and Chelsie hoped it was saying all the things she could not put into words.

  “Mr. Hayes?”

  They looked up to see a man in scrubs standing before them with a clipboard in his hand. Noah nodded.

  “I’m Doctor Altschuler. I have an update on your son, Samuel.”

  Chelsie rose to her feet and slid into the seat beside Noah. She didn’t know what had happened to Sam, except that he fell. That was all Noah had said before she dropped the plate she had been washing and watched as it disintegrated into a thousand tiny shards on her kitchen floor. She’d left the condo so fast she had forgotten her purse and to change out of her slippers.

  “Is he okay?” Noah was sitting up straight, his eyes troubled and bloodshot.

  Please be okay.

  The doctor smiled, and Chelsie’s chest fluttered with hope.

  “Your son looks like he’s going to be okay. He suffered a severe concussion and cerebral adema, which is swelling of the brain. We had to perform a ventriculostomy to drain the fluid and relieve the swelling. The fall also broke his proximal humerus, which is the upper arm bone. Luckily, the fracture looked clean, so we did not need to operate.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Chelsie muttered, placing her hand on Noah’s shoulder. She glanced over at him and she could see the fear wash away. His features softened and his body relaxed.

  “Can I see him?”

  Dr. Altschuler shook his head. “Not just yet, I’m afraid. He will need about ninety minutes to recover before we allow visitors. I’ll have the nurse come get you shortly. Sam will be transferred to the pediatric unit in roughly twenty-four hours for monitoring. If all continues to go well, he can go home in a couple of days. Are there any other questions?”

  Noah swallowed. “Is he awake?”

  The doctor nodded. “He’s conscious. The effects of the anesthesia are still wearing off, but he should be fully alert in no time.”

  Noah rubbed his hands over his face and leaned back. “Thanks, Doctor.”

  The doctor offered a tight-lipped smile and disappeared down the hall.

  Chelsie squeezed Noah’s arm. His eyes were closed, and she wondered what was going through his mind. “He’s going to be okay,” she whispered.

  Noah’s eyelids fluttered. He placed his left hand on top of hers as she massaged his forearm with her thumb. His eyes blinked open and he turned his head to
face her. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Noah, you don’t have to thank me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

  Half of his mouth curved upward as if he wanted to smile but didn’t quite have the energy. “People talk about how hard it is being a single parent,” he said, propping his ankle up on his opposite knee. “They talk about trying to work a full-time job, getting the cooking and cleaning in, helping the kids with school, trying to be present for all those special moments. But they don’t talk about moments like this.”

  Chelsie drank in his words as she studied him.

  “I can juggle all those other things,” he continued. “But not this. I couldn’t do this alone. If I didn’t have you, I…”

  His voice trailed off, and Chelsie squeezed his arm again to let him know she understood. “I’m here,” she assured him. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

  They sat together in silence until the nurse fetched them an hour later.

  Seeing Sam in his hospital bed with a bandaged head and arm cast was heartbreaking. He was so tiny, his legs only taking up half the bed space. Despite his condition, his eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning when they walked in.

  “Daddy! Miss Chelsie!”

  Chelsie felt new tears threatening to spill. He was so happy – even after all he had been through.

  “Oh, Sam, you’re so brave,” she told him. Chelsie stood back while Noah made a mad dash to his bedside.

  “Sammy,” he said, climbing onto the bed and pulling his son into his arms. “My brave boy.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to fall. I hope you’re not mad.”

  “I’m not mad, Sam,” Noah whispered. He was kissing every inch of his face. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  “They gave me a popsicle and said I was a good boy!”

  Chelsie beamed at him. “You’re a very good boy. You deserved it.”

  He smiled widely at her. “Miss Chelsie, come sit wif us! It’s like a slumber party.”

  She hesitated for a moment. Would she be interrupting a significant father and son moment? She wasn’t Sam’s mother. She wasn’t Noah’s girlfriend. Where did she fit in?

  Chelsie eyed the narrow available bed space on the opposite side of Sam and carefully approached.

  Right here, she thought as she laid down, her body just barely fitting in beside him.

  She supposed titles didn’t matter. She loved Sam and she cared for his father. Maybe she would never be exactly what Sam needed in his life, but she would never stop caring about them both.

  Chelsie wrapped her arm around Sam’s small frame. Her hand reached for Noah, and he squeezed it gently. Their eyes met over the white lump of hospital bed sheets and for one powerful second, everything felt perfect. Absolute. It felt as if the universe had strategically placed her on that bed with those people at that exact moment.

  What did that mean? She had felt a similar feeling while leaving Noah’s house the other day.

  Home.

  It was confusing. She couldn’t begin to understand it. The bed was squeaky and uncomfortable, and the blanket scratched at her skin, and yet, she had never felt more content.

  “Miss Chelsie?”

  “Hmm?” she answered.

  “I love you.”

  Chelsie had not been expecting those words. She was not used to being loved. In her experience, love was control, abuse, and violence from Ian. Love was toxic.

  This wasn’t any of those things. This was the purest thing on earth. Chelsie felt overcome with emotion and she buried her face into the edge of the pillow to catch her falling tears. “I love you, too, Sam,” she said quietly. Noah squeezed her hand again, but she couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t let him see how her heart was about to burst inside her chest. She couldn’t show him the truth: she had never, truly been loved before. Only the dry, itchy pillowcase would be privy to her secrets.

  “How about some cartoons?” Noah suggested.

  “Yeah!” Sam squealed.

  Noah let go of her hand, and Chelsie felt the bed shift as he reached for the television remote. She poked her head up, wiping away any remnants of her epiphany. Soon, SpongeBob SquarePants filled the small recovery room and the afternoon progressed uneventfully. Sam seemed back to his usual self. Nurses bustled in and out of the room, and Noah and Chelsie took turns stretching their legs and making coffee runs. Day turned into night and it wasn’t long before Sam was sound asleep on his cot.

  “You should get going,” Noah said as he sipped his watered-down hospital coffee. He rotated the styrofoam cup between his hands as he spoke.

  “I don’t mind staying,” Chelsie insisted. “I already told Devon it might be a late night. He’s going to stop by to visit tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, he texted me that, too,” Noah replied. “I’m serious, though. You should go home and get a proper sleep. There’s not really enough space for both of us here.”

  Chelsie was torn. She was exhausted, but what if something happened to Sam overnight and she wasn’t there?

  It was as if Noah had read her mind. “I’ll call you if anything changes,” he assured her. “But I feel like we’re out of the woods.”

  She relented. “I suppose. It just doesn’t feel right leaving you alone.”

  “Hey.” Noah stood from the couch and stepped over to her. “You’ve done enough. You’ve been my rock this entire day. I swear… I would have lost it if you weren’t here.”

  Chelsie looked away. His gaze was too intense. It felt like he was staring into the very naked parts of her soul. He was spying on all the broken pieces she kept locked away and hidden.

  She froze when he took her chin into his calloused hand and tilted her head upward, forcing her eyes on his. “Hey,” he repeated. “Thank you.”

  It was a simple ‘thank you’, but it felt like so much more. Everything felt like so much more with Noah.

  “You’re welcome.” It was a miracle she’d managed to speak under his gaze. What was he thinking? What was he trying to see? “Goodnight, Noah.”

  “Goodnight.”

  He took a step back and pressed his coffee cup to his lips. Chelsie turned away from him, stopping only briefly to glance at Sam. She smiled.

  As she left the hospital, a chill washed over her. She knew it was for the best, but she couldn’t help but feel a magnetic pull back into that room.

  There was love in that room.

  15 Chapter Fifteen

  "Surprise!"

  Noah and Sam entered their home to a grand welcome of familiar faces. Noah had known about the celebration – it was all Chelsie's idea. She had texted him at 2 A.M. after leaving the hospital that first night.

  "Can't sleep. Planning an epic welcome home party for Sam in my head. Thoughts?"

  Noah thought it was a great idea. Whether or not she could pull it off in thirty-six hours was the question.

  She did, though. Chelsie Combs always came through.

  Noah watched Sam’s face light up. Balloons floated to the vaulted ceiling, as friends and family blew bubbles and blared noisemakers. The smell of homemade treats assaulted his senses.

  “Oh, boy!” Sam shouted, jumping up and down. “Nana and Pappy are here, Dad!”

  Lucinda and Robert Hayes smiled as they approached. Noah’s parents had flown in from Seattle after finding out about the accident. He didn’t see his parents often with his busy schedule and the cross-country distance, so it was always special when they came into town – even when the circumstances weren’t ideal.

  “Sweet Noah,” his mother said. She clutched his face between her hands. Her assortment of rings and baubles pressed into the hollows of his cheeks. Lucinda was almost a foot shorter than he was – a petite woman with striking, silver hair and light, green eyes. She stood up on her tiptoes to plant an affectionate kiss on his jaw.

  “Hey, Mom,” Noah said.

  Robert slapped a strong arm against his shoulder. “Son,” his father greeted. “We c
ame as soon as we heard.”

  Robert Hayes was a similar height to Noah, hovering around six-foot-two. He had always been on the leaner side, but a prominent potbelly was beginning to protrude from his belt buckle. His facial hair had been graying over the years and the wrinkles in his face grew more visible every time Noah saw him.

  “I know, Pops,” Noah replied. He stepped past his parents and watched as Sam flew from person to person. Sam was being smothered in giant hugs and relieved kisses.

  “I was really brave!” Sam declared. He held out the lollipop he had been clinging to on the drive home.

  Chelsie appeared from the kitchen with Rosa close behind. “You’re home!” Chelsie proclaimed, bending down and holding her arms out to Sam. He ran full force into her embrace. “I missed the big entrance. I was helping Rosa with the lasagna.”

  “That’s okay, Miss Chelsie. Daddy said to make sure I tell you thank you for my party.”

  Noah sauntered into the living room, making eye contact with Chelsie as she cradled Sam in her arms. She smiled warmly in his direction.

  “You’re very welcome, Sam,” she replied.

  “Mi dulce niño!” Rosa cried. She tossed her potholders onto the back of the sofa and pulled Sam into a tight squeeze. “Your arm! Misericordia de mi.” She did the sign of the cross while looking up to the Heavens.

  “You can sign my cast, Miss Rosa,” Sam told her. He lifted his elbow as high as he could with a proud grin.

  Noah stepped over to the group. “Do you think you can get every person here to sign your cast, buddy?” he challenged.

  The little boy’s eyes popped open. “Good idea! Let me get my markers.” He raced up the staircase at record speed.

  Chelsie smiled. She crossed her arms over her blush-colored blouse. “He’s a fighter, that’s for sure.”

  Noah studied her. Her eyes were still lingering on where Sam had disappeared up the flight of stairs. Chelsie had been the only shining light for him during some of the darkest days of his life. She had quite literally been his shoulder to cry on when he thought his world was falling apart. She had a way of tearing away his layers and digging deep into his most vulnerable parts.