by Landra Graf
He smiled. “No problem. I—”
“We should probably go check on Rose.” Launching up from the chair, she made a beeline for the door, trying to keep him from finishing his sentence. Whatever he had to say would be better off left unsaid. Jason belonged to her friend. That was fate, destiny, and no matter how much she wished the tables turned in her favor, she wouldn’t try to change things. His hand slipped around her wrist.
“Stop. There’s no reason to rush off yet. Dr. Mason would’ve told us if she woke up. But I think we need to talk.” He’d replaced the smile he’d worn earlier with a frown and something she vaguely recognized as longing in his eyes.
She scoffed. “I don’t think we do. Let go of me. Please.”
He released her as if touching her suddenly burned. “Sorry, but I need to know. Did you write all those letters after I blew my knee out?”
His question made her legs go weak. There were some letters, but she wouldn’t admit to writing them. She’d written out of sympathy, hoping to be an encouragement for him from far away, just like Rose had proved encouragement in person. His football career had been everything to him, and, maybe, deep down, she’d meant more by those notes, but they’d never hold a candle to his high school sweetheart’s declarations. In truth, she didn’t get the point of the question. Letters or no letters—why did it matter?
She turned away, gathering her strength and assuming her best poker face. When her eyes finally met his, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a horrible liar, Emma. Or should I just call you Fay?”
“That’s my last name, so you can call me by either. Now, can we go see Rose?”
He smirked. “Always the smartass. Seriously, switching using your last name as a first name took out any guesswork. Why didn’t you ever tell me before?”
The game was up, and she didn’t want to admit the truth. She loved him or at least had been in love with a form of him. Regardless of the dormant feelings stirring inside her, this was no time for romantic emotions and trysts that could disrupt her best friend’s future, whether he wanted to see it or not.
“I really…. Can we do this later?” Like never?
He moved closer, trailing the shape of her cheek with his fingers, his gaze filled with intent, and she sensed one of her daydreams coming to reality. Factions warred within, to pull away or not. She didn’t want to, and she was weak, so weak to desire—the looks and the closeness.
“Waiting isn’t really my—”
“Emmaline. Jason. Come quick!” Dr. Mason’s voice rang out from the examination room.
She ran to the entrance and heard Jason behind her. Inside, the lights were dimmed. Rose’s breath came out labored and raspy, her skin as red as the Iowan barns. Her face was flushed, sweat clinging to it, and her eyes closed.
“The fever was going down, and she came to about five minutes ago, but it’s come back with a vengeance. She’s getting weaker.”
Emma looked rapidly from her friend to the doctor and the man who wanted more honesty than she was capable of at the moment. A feeling of futility surged within her, and before she could stop it, a laugh of disbelief forced its way out. “What are you saying? Antibiotics? Air lift? Anything?”
“Emma.” Dr. Mason grabbed her hand like an adult coddling a toddler who’d skinned her knee. “I think it’s too late for any of that. All my tests come back negative, we’ve already treated her with ice baths twice overnight, and her fever is over one 107 and climbing. We can’t get it down. Her brain cells are burning, and even if the fever disappeared, I don’t think she’d be the same. As for air flight, there’s nothing available. I’ve called multiple times. A big crash in Des Moines has called away all helicopters. We’re on our own here.”
“No!” She yanked her hand away from the doctor and got closer to the bed.
“Wait! I wouldn’t get too close. She could still be contagious.”
“Screw you, Doc. If this is it, I need to be close.” She looked at Jason for support. He seemed distant, eyes only on the most important person in their life. Her ragged breathing was the only sound for what seemed like minutes.
“She’s right. Close is what we need now.”
“All right. Just no physical interaction, and, for your own safety, you’re wearing surgical masks.” The doctor opened a drawer and pulled out two basic powder-blue masks. He handed them over and watched as they put them on. Once the masks were secure, he said, “I’m going for another cup of coffee. I’ll be back in two.”
“Rose, honey? We’re here. Me and Jason.” She scanned her friend’s face for any recognition, but received no response, just more labored breathing. The whole situation was a nightmare, something out of a soap opera. She’d thought closer would give closure. Instead, a nauseating dread had taken over her body, coupled with helplessness. Plus, she’d been moments away from lip locking with her crush not more than five minutes prior while her best friend lay here dying. “This has got to be the worst dream ever.”
“Sure seems like it should be a dream, but it’s not. We can’t squander this time.” He put a hand on her shoulder and moved her to the side. “Baby, you were the best person I’ve ever known. I was honored to be one of your friends. If I could change places with you, I would, but I bet you’ll light up the room wherever you go.”
Tears filled Emma’s eyes, and she sniffled. “Oh, no. Not yet.” He embraced her, arms wrapping around her tight. She rested her head against his shoulder, looking at her friend. “I can’t say good-bye. I don’t know how.” The words came out choked, her throat seizing up at the thought that this would be the last time she’d see her friend. Then Rose’s eyes opened.
“Em?” Her question came out on a cough.
She tried to pull out of Jason’s embrace and push him aside. Her friend was awake. “I’m here, I’m here.” Struggling, she tried to get next to her childhood companion. “Let me go.”
“No, you can’t get too close. She wouldn’t want the same thing to happen to you,” Jason said, clenching his arms down to stop her from fighting. She didn’t really care. Life wouldn’t be the same without Rose in it. The girl had been her supporter, her personal cheerleader, for every moment. They’d been determined to grow old together and have daughters who became best friends.
“He’s right.” Her friend’s agreement was hoarse and croaky. Emma stopped struggling. Even in the worst possible situation, the town beauty thought of someone besides herself. “I’m sorry…. No pillow fight.”
Em’s tears fell anew, and she sagged, her full weight pulling against the arms holding her up. “You can’t leave me. Not yet.”
“I…love you.” This time, when Rose’s eyes closed, Emma felt a surge of adrenaline. She refused to let go without a fight. She’d soak her in ice for hours if she had to. They couldn’t stop her. Her efforts to get her protector to release her bombed as she jammed her shoulders against him with no luck. The attempt to throw her weight around seemed futile, especially since he’d failed to budge an inch.
“Stop,” Jason pleaded.
“Please take her out of the room. We’ll keep working,” Dr. Mason’s voice cut through the fog of her fury. The doctor, head bowed over a clipboard, scribbled away furiously, and his wife muffled her sobs with tissues.
Jason started edging in the direction of the door, and Emma let her body slump again, hoping the additional weight would stop him. “Please.” The pain in his voice was the determining factor in her suddenly straightening and walking out the door. She didn’t look back again, afraid she’d be incapable of stopping her tears if they got going.
***
“Yes, Mr. Fay. Definitely terminal, but Dr. Mason won’t tell us anything else. I’ll tell him to call you.” Jason glanced over at Emma slumped in the waiting room chair. Tissues against her eyes, she’d tried so hard to stop crying, but the tears showed no sign of abating.
“I’ll stay with
her until then. Yes, sir.” He closed the phone and put it back in his pocket. “Your parents said they’ll be here within the hour. They went a couple of towns over to pick up a part for the washing machine.”
Sniffling, she raised her head. “They probably thought I was with Rose all night. No worriers in the Fay family.”
The girl had been damn near heroic, sitting in this room waiting for bad news, the worst news. He didn’t know where the courage and love came from. Her grief hit hard, but moments like this, when she emerged from the pain still aware of what was happening, made his heart clench. He wanted to be more to her, a tower of strength she could lean against, but back in the examining room, he’d been a curse. He’d kept her from getting close to the one person with whom she’d spent the most time, the sister of her heart. Losing Rose…. In a word, brutal. He’d loved her as a friend, someone to admire, but if he lost Emma, too, it’d kill him. He didn’t need another push back to the dark side.
“What do you need? What can I do?”
“You’re doing it. Being here; that’s enough. It proves you still love her.” She dragged a hand through her hair. Yes, he did, but didn’t she realize he loved her, too? He’d fallen in love with the woman who’d told him to become more than a football player, more than the guaranteed future mayor of Charming. She’d been the inspiration that had kept him away from the pills. He had to tell her. This situation proved his earlier thoughts about having plenty of time were crap.
“Em—”
“Just thought,” Dr. Mason paused, clearing his throat, “I’d let you both know she’s gone. As of five minutes ago. We did everything, but the fever peaked at one hundred and fifteen, and we lost her. Her brain swelled to a point—” The man’s tears flowed freely. Eyes puffy, he moved to grab a handkerchief from his coat. “I’ll conduct an autopsy on Monday to be sure. For right now, we’ll store her. She always wished to be cremated; didn’t like the idea of taking up ground space.”
“I can’t…. Right now, Doc, I can’t….” His heroic girl jumped up out of her chair. “Jason, could you take me home?”
He didn’t know what to say. Moisture welled in his own eyes. He hated crying. “Yes, I can,” he whispered.
“Wait just one minute.” Mason walked over and stopped in front of them, applying a palm to each of their foreheads. “Both of you feel all right?”
Jason nodded, along with Emma.
“Then you can leave, but if either of you start getting a fever, feeling nauseated, I want you back here straight away.”
“We can do that.” Jason spoke before Em did, and shook Mason’s hand. “Thank you, Doctor, for everything.”
He followed her out the front door, taking one last look at the devastated doctor. The man wasn’t known for losing patients, and those who did die in Charming passed in their sleep of old age. This same man had birthed everyone in his graduating class. Hell. Now one of those wouldn’t get a chance to celebrate her tenth year since becoming an adult. His high school reunion weekend had turned into a tragedy.
***
Emma’s body had gone numb somewhere between the ride from Mason’s and unlocking the front door of her parents’ house. She stood there for a moment, noticing how no birds sang out the songs of the morning, tree branches hung a bit lower, and the grass looked less vibrant. Stumbling inside, she dropped her purse on the entryway table. Jason followed her, chatting on the phone with Ewan, instructing him to take her car back to the driveway. He didn’t trust her to drive for the time being. She’d asked for the escort, but, in reality, she wanted to be alone.
Once he hung up, he shut the door. “Are you all right?” He trailed after her into the kitchen.
She grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and headed to the pantry entrance. The object of her mission—breakfast. Regardless of Rose’s passing, her stomach growled continuously, and, whether she wanted to eat or not, food had become necessity.
“Fine. I just need some time.”
He eyed the cereal box in her hand and moved to the refrigerator. “That’s understandable, but I can help. Or, at least, I’d like too.” He placed the gallon of milk on the table next to her bowl. She set the knockoff Lucky Charms down and looked at him. Even with a small shadow of facial hair covering his chin, he was gorgeous, but she couldn’t deal with these feelings right now either.
“You can help. Go home, and get some rest.”
“But—”
She put her hand on his arm, ignoring the flush of heat accompanying the contact. “No buts. You’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. I like the offer of help, but I can’t deal with this—whatever this is—between us.”
He sighed and moved away. The touching thing— totally her fault, but she couldn’t help it. Instead of walking away, he brought one palm to her cheek, and the tears welled again. This tender moment should’ve been Rose’s, not hers, and she didn’t deserve it.
“No. Please, no.”
Abruptly, his hand pulled away, eyes filled with hurt. “If that’s what you’d prefer. I’ll catch up with you later.” His boots echoed down the hallway, and a few seconds later, the front door shut.
She let the tears fall, cascading down her cheeks and soaking the collar of her shirt, her brain filled with too many emotions— desire, remorse, guilt, sadness…. The list went on, and she couldn’t decide which thought process to sort through first. She collapsed into the closest kitchen chair and put her head to the table. That’s when it hit her. What would my soul sister do?
She probably would’ve cried then busied herself with anything and everything. What Emma really wanted was to remind everyone how much they’d miss her, how much she’d done for them. She decided to hold the service this weekend while everyone was in town for the reunion. Besides, the celebration would end as soon as the news spread. How did they celebrate without ‘Most Popular’?
Emma jumped up from her chair and grabbed the cordless phone from the wall. A plan began to form in her mind. Phone calls first and breakfast after. Jason and their thing could wait. Rose didn’t have the opportunity to wait because, in less than two days, most of the people who knew her best would leave Charming to return to their lives elsewhere.
Her spirits buoyed as she dialed Mrs. Hopkins’s number. She’d probably never be forgiven for coveting the man her best friend loved, but she’d at least make sure everyone knew how perfect that same best friend had been in everything she did.
“Honey, where are you?”
Emma stuck her head out of the kitchen door at the sound of her mother’s voice. “I’m in here. Just making some phone calls and getting everything squared away. The next part is to get a shower because I look like I slept in a chair all night, which I did. Then I’m headed over to the Briar house.”
“Sounds like you’ve been busy, but maybe you should rest. There’ll be plenty of time for everything later.” Her mother’s hand touched her shoulder, a look of sympathy in her green eyes.
“I’ll rest later. Sitting still brings thoughts I can’t deal with right now.” She turned away to grab her empty bowl and place it in the sink. “Every time I stop moving, my tears start to flow. I’ve cried enough for now.”
Her mom sighed and wrapped her in a hug. She didn’t want the closeness or the calming scent of peach perfume. Comfort brought tears, too. The phone calls had been different. With those, distance was available, and all the condolences were easy to dismiss or push aside with little effort. The hug reminded her of the last loss she’d experienced—running to her mother’s waiting arms with her friend at her side when the announcement came of Rose’s parents’ plane crash.
“It’s okay to feel weak, to feel helpless. Grieving is natural, and if you don’t do it—”
She pulled back, staring her mother in the eye. “I know the importance of grieving, but I don’t…. No, I can’t become lifeless because of this. We need to celebrate and grieve her loss at the same time. With everyone in town, this is the perfect t
ime to remember her and her life. I have to do this.”
The solution appeared obvious to her, and, luckily, her mom got the point because her arms dropped away from Emma’s shoulders. She kissed her on the cheek. “You were always the smart, realistic one and the best friend a girl could have.”
A twinge of guilt hit her. Great best friends didn’t go after their friend’s ex-boyfriend. In her defense, she’d never openly pursued Jason, but, still, they’d almost kissed. He wanted her, but they’d deal with it later. Those feelings would have to wait, had to wait. For Rose. “I’m still trying to be, Mom. I have to go.”
***
Jason slammed the door of his car as he got out. Why he’d agreed to show up to help someone who didn’t want him or his help still baffled him, but his dad believed the favor was owed out of respect. Walking up the sidewalk, he looked at the house once owned by the “Dry Ice Baron” of Charming. Rose’s father had been one of the town’s heroes back in the day, starting Charming Chemical and building the quintessential example of what a home should look like. A porch spanned all four sides of a two-story, picturesque country home built the prerequisite six feet from the curb. The beauty queen had inherited it upon her parents’ deaths, but had left the house vacant until she’d graduated from high school. This is where he would’ve ended up if he’d come home after the football debacle instead of staying in Wisconsin.
The front screen door creaked open and, for a split second, he thought his ex would emerge, all dolled up and long legs. Instead, the large frame of Emmaline’s father came walking out with a box in his hands.
“Hi, Mr. Fay. Do you need any help with that?”
“Always the respectful young man. You can call me Herb, since you’re a lot older now. As for the box, I think I got this one.” He trotted down the porch steps and turned toward the driveway. “Emma could probably use a bit of help in the house, though. She’s looking for a few specific things for the memorial tonight.”