“I don’t know. I’m guessing they’re getting her settled. The doctor said it was a minor heart attack.”
A heart attack. One of Jemma’s worst fears. Next to Alzhei-mer’s, it was the thing she worried about most. “She’s probably up there somewhere scared right now.”
“Jemma’s tough. She’s going to be okay.” Justin laid a hand lightly on her back and, when she didn’t pull away, the touch settled there, making small circles between her shoulder blades.
The man must have a whole lot more respect for her grandmother than she’d ever given him credit for. It wasn’t long until midnight, yet here he sat, waiting to hear how Jemma was. “You can go. I know you have a ton of work to do tomorrow, and you can’t back out on it. The business needs the money. I’ll be okay.” The words muffled against her knees. She was used to doing things alone. It was her life. “I already called and arranged for a sub tomorrow. I can stay all night if I need to.”
“Go home? And leave you with all of this excitement? Not on your life. Can’t let you have all of the fun, can I?” It was a flash of young Justin, who everyone believed never had a serious thought in his head, but who allowed Taryn in enough to see how deeply his mind ran, how seriously he perceived life. “Why do you do that anyway?”
“Do what?”
“Pull away. Try to stand up all by yourself. Shove back everybody who wants to help you.” The circles on her back grew heavier. “You try to push me away. You told Rachel not to come. At some point, you’re going to have to accept people care about you and want to be there for you.”
Because you told me once I was too needy. Yeah, it was a conversational path best left untraveled tonight. Right now, the only person who had never let her down, had loved her unconditionally, was suffering, and she couldn’t get to her.
Yet, here sat Justin. If Taryn closed her eyes, she could easily believe the past few years hadn’t happened and this was high school, where they normally sat side by side supporting each other. But this wasn’t high school, and a whole lot more had happened than Justin Callahan could ever guess.
The fact didn’t stop nostalgia from leaping up as a defense mechanism. “Do you remember during our sophomore year when Grampa took Jemma to Ireland?”
The circles on her back hesitated, then his fingertips tightened. “I do.” Justin’s voice deepened, then he cleared his throat. “You fractured your wrist during phys ed.”
Silent tears pushed forward into Taryn’s eyes, burning the back of her nose. “Dad told the school to handle it. He wasn’t leaving work to deal with my clumsiness.”
“As I recall, Wayne Demmings all but tackled you diving for a foul ball. Trying to be the hero as usual.” He sniffed. “It was the only time I ever almost got into a fight. At least in high school.”
“I never knew.”
Beside her, he shifted until the toe of his work boot came into her view. The edges were caked with dried mud, probably from Jemma’s driveway after working on her roof all day. The same driveway where he’d helped Brandt Foster load Jemma’s stretcher into the ambulance just a handful of days ago. “Yeah. I thought he was a little too aggressive with you. I also thought he should apologize.”
“He did. Later.” She thumbed away a tear threatening to break away and bathe her cheek. “Now I know why. You scared him.”
“I doubt the trombone-playing mathlete I used to be was scary. And what would you expect me to do? He hurt my best friend. Then he laughed about it.” From the motion of his hand, she could tell he shrugged. “Not much else I could do, was there?”
“How long did you sit downstairs in the ER waiting room with me, waiting for me to get x-rays and all?”
Another shrug, then his fingers moved back and forth slowly, like he was thinking. “I don’t remember.”
“You do too. It was something like four hours. It was the middle of a huge flu outbreak, and the place was packed. They were too busy taking back all of the puking people to worry about the girl who wasn’t creating a huge mess all over the room.”
“It was pretty nasty. Thanks. I’d managed to forget the details.”
Another tear edged to her eyelash. All of this time, she’d been so angry at Justin for telling her the truth, so dead set on protecting him from her mistake, that she hadn’t realized how much she missed him until he was back in her life. She’d swallowed and buried all of the good they’d had. What had they lost the night when she crossed the line, let fear of being apart drive them to do something they’d never done before?
And why was it he suddenly felt the need to be in her life again, helping her sew a quilt, of all things? Sitting here with her in one of her lowest moments. Simply being right where she needed him to be when she needed him to be there. God, this is not funny.
The teenager in her wanted to lean over like she had so many times before and let Justin Callahan put an arm around her. She wanted to trust the strength in his chest and the comfort of his words. But the adult Taryn knew better. He’d been right back then. She could get needy, get too wrapped up in other people doing for her. If he’d taught her anything, it was how to stand on her own two feet, and for that she’d always be grateful.
In fact, it would be better if she got her legs under her right now. Taryn stiffened her spine, and Justin’s hand stopped its motion. With a deep breath she sat back, forcing him to withdraw his hand.
From across the small waiting room, a pastel painting of dim pink tulips in a faded cream vase stared back at her. Somebody needed to update the decor around here. It grew more faded every second, like she felt. Wilted and tired.
“You okay, McKenna?”
She wanted to say yes, but when she opened her mouth, the tears took it as an open invitation. “No.” The one word undid every bit of the bravado she’d built up. She could stand on her own two feet, but not if it meant standing without her grandmother.
Justin engulfed her in a hug, pressing her face against his shoulder. He smelled of sawdust and outdoors. After she had exhausted her tears all over his cotton shirt, she knew, for the rest of her life, the combination of smells would be more comforting than any bowl of soup, vase of flowers, or warm hug could ever be.
She drew away, cheeks flaming hot over making a complete spectacle of her fear and grief. While her family was loving and affectionate in private, they were not so into public displays of anything. Taryn had just violated the top eight rules of conduct. Good thing nobody was in the small waiting room to see.
Well, nobody but Justin, who probably wished he could go home and take a shower before the salt of her tears dried into a crust on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” He drew back but kept his arm around her. “Being human?”
“Being needy.”
Justin’s arm stiffened, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned closer. “I told you. My mouth got ahead of me, and the things I said to you were wrong. I was too young to even realize we were feeling the same things, just acting on them in different ways.” He drew in a deep breath, pain etching lines around his mouth and along his forehead. “God knows how much I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Have you been carrying my stupid words around all this time?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Taryn pulled away, letting his arm slip from her shoulders. “Not now.” She wasn’t going to let him feel bad for saying what was true. It had taken all she had to keep the baby from burdening him, and she wouldn’t undo it all by becoming a burden herself. “I’m fine. It’s the doctors you should worry about.” She forced a smile. “Like you said the last time we were here, Jemma’s probably got them jumping through hoops and telling them how to do their job.”
The comment drew a weak, if reluctant, smile. “You’re probably right, especially if you’re quoting me. Then you’re definitely right.”
“I just hope Daniel Markham isn’t on duty. She’s still not convinced he made it all the way through PA school.”
“Daniel Markham will be lucky
to get through the door of Jemma’s room after the way he threw you over at homecoming to go to the dance with Shelly Banks.”
Another reminder she could have done without today. “It was pretty nasty. Thanks. I’d managed to forget the details.” She echoed his earlier words.
“Hey, it worked in my favor. Wasn’t long after when you decided you might just love me as something more than your best friend.” Justin’s chuckle was familiar, yet strange all at the same time, and it died quickly. “Know what? I’m sorry all of this is happening.” His voice dropped deeper, and he sounded somehow older, maybe even wiser.
Taryn refused to look him in the eye. If she did, he might see she was starting once again to view him as more than a friend. She rubbed her arms through her sweater, wishing she could warm up, knowing the chill likely came from inside her. “I can’t lose Jemma, Justin.” She stood and turned around to stare at the wall behind her, never looking down. She hadn’t met his eye yet. She couldn’t. “I never had my dad, lost my mom, lost you, lost . . .” Her eyes drifted shut, and she knew her cheeks had to turn pink. Enough. She had to stop talking. If she didn’t, she’d tell him everything.
Maybe she should. But before she could open her mouth to speak, another voice took precedence. It was like a rerun of Saturday, only this time, a female doctor peered into the room. “Are you Taryn McKenna?”
The idea that answers were here, answers she might not want, shot adrenaline through her heart. “Yes. Jemma? I mean, Hope?”
The young doctor smiled. “You can come with me. We’ve tucked her back into CICU as a precaution, but she’s going to be fine.” She looked over Taryn’s shoulder at Justin. “Are you family also?”
“He might as well be.” Taryn glanced back at Justin, and he smiled slightly.
“No. I’ll let Taryn go on her own this time. But, McKenna,” he looked hard at her. “I’ll be right here when you get back. Promise.”
* * *
Taryn had to be trapped in Groundhog Day. She’d done all of this before. Followed the doctor up the silent hallway, stepped through the CICU doors into the room of curtained partitions, peeked at a Jemma hooked up to more than one machine . . . Her worst nightmare. Jemma’s too.
This time, there was no crossword puzzle book. Jemma lay back in the bed, looking tired and small under the blankets, her good hand resting on the cast over her stomach, face creviced with lines and valleys Taryn couldn’t ever remember seeing before. She wanted to back out of the curtain and tell the doctor there was a mistake—someone had put an old, old lady in Jemma’s bed.
“Are you going to stare at me all day or come in?” The voice was strong and impatient.
Nope. Taryn couldn’t help smiling just a bit. This was definitely Jemma.
“It was a tiny little heart attack, not a full-out burst artery.” The frail hands moved, gaining strength, and the head of the bed rose slightly. Jemma eyed her with those striking blue eyes of hers. “Took you long enough to get back here.”
“You know they wouldn’t let me in ’til you were settled. And they’ll only give me a couple of minutes now. They have rules, you know. I can’t just charge back here whenever I want.”
“Rules.” Jemma swished her hand toward the curtain. “Suggestions are what they are.”
Taryn pulled the small plastic chair in the narrow corner up closer to the bed and sat down. “Tell me what’s going on. You fall and break your arm, they stick you in cardiac ICU. You have surgery, everything is grand, and then you have a heart attack.”
“Not a heart attack. A mild heart attack. They made you wait while they did the EKG. They’ll let me out of here and back into my room tomorrow morning as long as I’m stable. And I will be stable, so stop your worrying.”
“Well,” Taryn sat back and crossed her arms, “excuse me for worrying when they call and tell me you’re heart attacking yourself. Clearly, you’re just fine.”
“And so are you, if this much of your sarcasm is showing.” Jemma grinned at her, the old lady who’d overtaken her bed when Taryn walked in disappearing rapidly, though she still looked tired.
“I get it from you, dear.” Taryn sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Now tell me the whole truth, including why they stuck you in CICU from day one, and why they didn’t let you go home right after setting your bone. You’ve been here way too long for someone who just broke a bone, even if you are seventy plus and counting.”
“Fine.” Jemma gave up too quickly, her fingers picking at the edges of the white blanket. “You know I’ve always had an issue with my heart, the one I was born with.”
“The HCM.” Taryn nodded, scared to hear what was coming, relieved to finally find out what was going on.
“Well, on top of it, I’ve started having blood clots. They’re not related and nothing major. Small ones, but enough to put me on some medication. It’s why I fell out in the barn. I got dizzy on the ladder.”
“I threw the ladder out.”
Jemma sniffed and shook her head with a tight smile. “Took out your anger on an inanimate object, did you? I trust the ladder. We’ve had it for years.”
“Exactly why it needed to be replaced. I couldn’t find the one I bought you for Christmas a while back, so I got you a new one. Aluminum. It’s lighter. Won’t rust. Won’t wobble either. It’s waiting for you in the barn when you need it again.”
“Wobbly or stable, nothing would have kept me from falling this time. It was all the light-headedness from the anti-clotting meds. They kept me here longer to make sure I hadn’t bruised enough to make another one.” She shrugged delicately under the thin hospital gown. “Turned out to be a good call.” She tipped her head toward the IV bag hanging on a stand next to the bed. “A little stronger clot buster in there. It’ll keep me in here a few more days, but hopefully, I’ll be home by Christmas.”
“And resting.”
“Now, Taryn,” Jemma tipped her chin and raised one eyebrow, a look Taryn recognized and dreaded, “you know that won’t happen, no matter how much I promise the doctor otherwise.” She held up a hand to stop Taryn from speaking. “No more arguing. I’ll remind the nurse you’re in here, and she’ll have you out on your rear before you can blink twice.”
Taryn kept her mouth closed.
“Now, how is Rachel’s quilt coming along?”
How was the quilt coming along? It was wreaking havoc on her life. Giving her a near panic attack by getting destroyed. Giving her a guilty conscience for not telling Jemma exactly what was going on. Giving her a divided mind by forcing her to spend time with Justin, time that had clearly had an effect on her heart.
She shrugged, hoping to look nonchalant and convincing, or Jemma would be all over it, reading her mind and figuring out everything Taryn was trying to hide. “It’s coming. Rachel will have a quilt for her wedding, even though your arm is out of commission.” It just won’t be the quilt you think it is.
“I know you understand why this is important. With Rachel losing her mama, I want her to have something to make her feel like her mama and her grandmother are there at the wedding.” The grin Jemma flashed almost made Taryn fear for her facial muscles. “Can you imagine the look on her face when she sees it? It will be worth every second of work.”
Taryn’s fingers ached to argue, but they couldn’t. Jemma was right, as usual. Seeing Rachel’s face would make every stitch worth it. “You’re going to be responsible for ruining her makeup.”
“Pshaw. She won’t open it until after the wedding’s all over and they’re opening gifts. She won’t worry a whit about her makeup by then.” Jemma sighed. “I just wish I’d broken the left arm instead of my right one. Then you could bring me the quilt, and I could work on it up here. You could dig out my quilting hoop and set me right to work. It’d keep you from doing it all by yourself.”
“It’s okay. Justin and I are making progress on it.” Oops. In her rush to console, Taryn had let too much slip.
“Justin and you? Together?
Well, now.” Jemma crossed her good arm over her casted one, the look on her face defying Taryn’s efforts to read it. “What an interesting turn of events. I had an idea he’d be around fixing the roof, but I had no idea . . .” She tapped her index finger on her hot pink cast. “Very interesting.” She didn’t look like it was interesting, more like it was a little bit concerning.
“Don’t go getting any ideas in your head, hon. You know nothing can come of this.” If it was the truth, then what was the . . . thing . . . she kept feeling? Like every time Justin was around, the world seemed a little bit more right? Lord, don’t let Jemma be able to do the face-reading thing she does on this one. “He was helping me sew the quilt, nothing more. But then I had to come here and make sure you weren’t about to check out of the world on me, so we had to take a break so he could drive me over here.”
“He sews?”
“Better than I do if you want the truth. His grandmother was Sissy Callahan. Of course he sews, and you well know it.”
“It’s because you’re in a bigger hurry to finish, and you aren’t trying to find pleasure in the doing.”
True. But she didn’t have to admit to it. “I promise. Rachel’s quilt will be one you can be proud of.”
Jemma shifted in her seat, the fire back in her eyes, though the lines around the edges said she was tired. “What time is it?”
“A little bit past midnight.” Taryn stood. “I should go. You need to rest. I already got a sub for tomorrow, so I’ll be around in the morning to check on you.”
“You didn’t have to. What are you going to do? Sit and play checkers with the invalid?” Once again, she held up her hand to ward off Taryn’s protests. “So it’s near midnight, and Justin was at your house to bring you here? Sewing a quilt? Have you two finally buried the hatchet?”
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