All the Days After

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All the Days After Page 20

by Carrie Thorne


  Pulling her in for a long, sleepy kiss in the dim light of the kitchen, he almost asked her to come. Wanted her support, her nearness.

  Didn’t want to watch another buddy die.

  Cradling his face in her hands, she softly pressed her lips to his one last time before releasing him. “Do you want me to come with you? Things will be just fine here. I’ll do whatever you need, sit in the waiting room or come in with you. I don’t want you going through this alone.”

  He knew she was needed here, knew he could handle this, even if he didn’t want to. Knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to come along was enough.

  “I really appreciate that. Any other time, I’d jump on that offer. Not right now. Too much going on here. I need to know someone is keeping things calm here so I can take care of things and not worry that I’ll be missed. Besides, I think Zane’s worse off than I am.”

  “Keep in touch. I’m here if you need anything.” Walking him out, she quietly closed the door behind him.

  18

  T-Minus 1 Day

  Sleeping restlessly for the next few hours, Sophie managed to make it until five before tossing back the covers. Asher had been gone for a few short hours, and already the bed was cold and lonely. Groaning from achy muscles after tossing and turning, trying to fall back to sleep after Asher left, she managed to drag herself out of bed.

  Despite the aches, she ran her normal route in record time, then hopped in the pool for a few laps. Trying to enjoy her morning coffee alone on the deck, she snapped a picture of the sun just as it was rising and sent it to Asher. Long after her coffee had gone cold, she sat curled up in the Adirondack in her coziest distressed jeans and an old Bob Dylan t-shirt.

  Shortly after, right as his plane must be touching down, her phone chirped with a photo he’d taken of the sunrise out the airplane window during the flight. Smiling, she felt like they’d spent their morning together after all. This was a perfect example of how she knew he didn’t see her as a convenient lay. Maybe she could show Pippa and explain why she didn’t need to worry. Not that the simple gesture would be so obviously a sign of love to anyone else.

  Slowly opening the sliding glass door, it made its usual grinding sounds as it moved across the weathered track. Armed with an oversized coffee cup and a warm blanket around her shoulders, Pippa wordlessly joined Sophie in the other Adirondack. “Morning,” she greeted with a sleepy smile.

  Both stared at the ever-brightening mountains in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Pippa sighed before saying what she’d been bottling up all night. “I’m sorry I’ve been so crazy. I’ve not been a very good friend since we left Seattle.”

  Sophie patted her friend on the knee before wrapping her arms around her own knees. “You’re only a little crazier than when you were studying for your GRE’s, finals, moving–”

  Chuckling, Pippa interrupted the list, “Okay, I get it. I don’t do stress well.”

  “It’s not that you don’t do stress well. You just feel everything so fully, that when it exceeds your usual impressively vast comfort zone, you sort of… lose your filters.” Glancing at her friend, she saw her sheepish smile forming.

  “How do you always manage to stay so calm?”

  “Look at my poor stubby fingernails. I thought I had quit the habit years ago, yet they’re already about chewed to nothing. Besides, once Yvette’s threats come to fruition, I doubt calm will be a word anyone uses to describe me. Is it considered premeditated if I’m plotting my own self-defense?”

  Pippa pondered on that one for a minute. “You’ll have to ask Lincoln or Grady that one.” Voice quieting, she appeared afraid to even say the rest out loud. “I heard some of the rumors last night. I fired our minister.”

  Aghast, Sophie’s head whipped around so fast she nearly gave herself a neck cramp. “You can’t do that. Who’s going to officiate?”

  Appreciating Sophie’s less-than-calm reaction, Pippa shook her head in amusement. “I don’t want that gossip-happy bitch marrying us. Lincoln agreed. Aunt Jane coincidentally has one of those licenses you can get online. She did a wedding for a friend a few years ago. Actually, I wish I’d known sooner, as I like her better anyway.”

  “That’s a huge relief. She’s pretty great. I can’t wait to start working with her. I’ve got education and internships to keep me afloat, but I’m so nervous. She showed me my desk and my schedule. For the first few weeks, she’s making me take a light load until I get a feel for things.” Stealing Pippa’s massive coffee mug, Sophie poured a few more sips into her own cup so she could have a little extra caffeine jolt. Pippa didn’t need it anyway; she was running on adrenaline.

  Denise came flying out the glass door. “Did either of you talk to Asher? Is he okay?” She pulled a chair up in front of Pippa and Sophie, disturbing their pleasant moment.

  Crap. No good way to say she’d seen Asher off at oh-dark-thirty this morning. Fortunately, Pippa had seen him too. “I talked to him last night. He should be back before the ceremony tomorrow. Poor Asher.”

  Tearful, Denise nodded, already knowing some of the basics from the note Asher had left. “Jack. He has been such a good friend to Asher. One of the guys hurt right before he got out. My poor boy, this must be so hard on him.”

  Hating being so far away and still not convinced that her not going with him was the right decision, Sophie rose from the deep-seated Adirondack. “Why don’t I fix some breakfast.”

  Denise was such a nurturer, never admitting when she was hurting. It was clear she was hurting for her son now. Sophie could help, feeling a similar pain. “Asher has been through worse. He’ll be okay,” Sophie added as she stepped inside.

  In the kitchen, Sophie pulled out a large bowl and whipped up a double recipe of Dutch babies to go in the oven. She tossed some pork sausage on the stovetop griddle. Pulling out the fresh strawberries she’d picked up to share from the local farm stand the day before, she sliced and tossed them in a small saucepan for a yummy summer topping.

  Yep, her cooking had come a long way since their first apartment. It had been top ramen and PB&J with Yvette. Now, Sophie enjoyed creating delicious foods. Usually nutritious, but today was an exception. Comfort food was very necessary today.

  It’s not like she and Asher were an established couple or anything. They’d been dating what, a few weeks? Not even dating, exactly, as they were trying to keep things on the downlow.

  She’d never fussed like this over a boyfriend before. Stupid. You didn’t just fall in love with someone this quickly. This easily.

  A lively chirp from her phone interrupted her distress. She juggled it out of her pocket with strawberry covered hands before she could check the text. Doesn’t look like he’ll make it thru the night. Will call you later.

  Her chest ached thinking of what he must be going through. He’d implied a lot of his counseling was to help with his survivor’s guilt, and Jack was a big part of that. Hopefully he and Zane would be able to help each other through the next few hours, both coming away unscathed when others were hurt then and still dying now.

  A minute later, her phone chirped again. Miss you.

  Well that just wasn’t fair. Whatever her issue was, feeling maybe more deeply involved than she should be this far in, she realized he was right there with her. Part of her still expected him to be the love-’em-and-leave-’em sort.

  Delaying sex hadn’t just been about keeping a promise, it had been about protecting herself. Damn it, even without the sex, she was falling head over heels for him.

  ***

  Hopping out of the cab he’d tipped well to take the quickest route to the hospital, Asher ran into the lobby. There was a glowing, colorful map in front of him, but his mind was too unfocused to try to figure out how to find the damn ICU. Scanning the lobby, there were dozens of arrows and hallways. And a freaking Starbucks.

  A friendly, arthritic eighty-something year-old saw his clouded vision as he tried to figure out where to go. “Are you here to visit someone?�
��

  Ears buzzing with worry, he managed to nod.

  “Do you know what unit? I’d be happy to show you the way.” The poor volunteer, designated by a clearly marked blue vest, hesitated, unsure whether to splash cold water over Asher’s face or wait him out.

  Shaking off the fog that had muddled his brain, remembering he was here because he needed to be here, he managed to respond. “ICU. Jack Holden.”

  With a gentle nod, the volunteer pointed towards the far hallway. “This way.” Following behind the painfully slow pace of his new best friend, he tried to not sprint ahead. Wouldn’t help to lose one’s guide, only to get lost around the next bend.

  After an interminable trudge to the ICU, Asher tried not to panic when he saw the staff running in all directions, a cacophony of life-saving machines beeping in alarm. He was about to ask the man at the front desk to point him towards Jack’s room when Zane approached him from the side and whacked him on the back.

  “About fucking time. This way.” Zane didn’t wait for his response.

  The nurse, however, wasn’t having it. “One at a time.”

  Desperately, Zane took a step forward. Towering over the nurse, his scowl could have caused the poor guy to combust, but his tone was all plea. “Call security if you need to, but our friend is dying. One more body in there won’t change a fucking thing.”

  Taking the nurse’s hesitance as approval, whether it was intended to be or not, the pair stalked back to Jack’s room.

  Sliding open the glass door, Asher pulled the privacy curtain to the side to enter the room. His friend lay pale on the bed, hooked up to more wires and tubing than he could make sense of.

  Fucking shit, Jack.

  “How the hell did he get sepsis? I thought his injuries were all healing?” Taking the only seat next to the bed, Asher sat at the bedside and stared at Jack’s pasty complexion.

  Zane stood back with his arms crossed over his chest. “Heroin.”

  “What? You’re fucking kidding. He couldn’t have been that stupid.” Running his hands through his hair, Asher saw the scattered scabs that marred his friend’s skin where he’d been injecting.

  Seething, Zane held his post in the corner of the room, his jaw clenched tightly. “Apparently, he was that stupid. I don’t know if he just got hooked after all the damn pain pills he’d been taking after… After. Or, if he was abusing because he was too lost and depressed.”

  “I haven’t seen him in what, two months, and he lost it that quickly? Wasn’t he planning another surgery soon?” Maybe if he hadn’t been so caught up in himself, he would have noticed Jack wasn’t okay. Could have said or done something.

  Zane shook his head briefly. “Guess he stopped going to his appointments a week or two ago. I think he gave up. Took the most painless way out he could come up with. Not that it worked out quite how he wanted.”

  “Why didn’t he… Why didn’t we… was it suicide?”

  Zane shook his head, his eyes red with fury. “No way to know. Don’t think so, as there was no note and he had stuff out like he’d been in the middle of something. Whatever, though, we should have realized something was wrong. I should have been paying more attention.”

  “He’d have dragged our loser asses out of the ditch.” It was hard to imagine the gaunt, lifeless figure in front of him as his colossus of a friend that had pulled him out of a number of scrapes. “I was too fucking busy putting a band-aid on my scuffed knee to pay anyone else any attention.”

  Not caring about the plethora of cords attached to Jack, Asher rested his hand on his friend’s and gave a gentle squeeze. Whispering his apologies for not realizing how much he was hurting.

  “Too late now. I’ve been out of the navy a grand total of forty-eight hours and have spent most of my free time at this damn hospital. Fucking depressing.”

  Looking up, Asher saw Zane hadn’t moved. His jaw was clenching a mile a minute, tense as the rest of him. “I didn’t even know you were out. You going home?”

  Eyes still glued to Jack, Zane managed to shake his head. “Nah. Not much home to go to.” Zane’s parents owned a snooty architecture firm in New York and had never shown much interest in their children. His brother was last rumored to be somewhere in Nepal, and his sister lived and breathed Air Force life.

  Knowing Zane was heading to an early grave right alongside Jack, not from drugs, but certainly something self-destructive, Asher couldn’t let another friend go. “Come on up to Washington. Foothills is a good place. I just got on with the police department.”

  “Fuck no. I’m not going to be a damn cop.” Zane’s brow furrowed in pure disgust.

  Laughing under his breath, Asher almost found humor in the dark moment. “I’m not saying come be a cop. Doubt they’d hire your lazy ass anyway.”

  That got the desired response. Zane unfolded his arms and rubbed his temples with flat palms, blinking rapidly to wake himself, reminding Asher of all the long nights they’d had on missions. “Just egotistical, fly by the seat of their pants pieces of shit like you, huh?”

  “Damn straight. If it helps, I know a lot of hot, willing women in Foothills.”

  “Any you haven’t slept with?” Lightening up, Zane grabbed the wheeled doctor’s stool from under the computer and rolled it up to the bedside across from Asher.

  “I can let you know who’s worth the effort. Just not my woman. Or my sister. Maybe my cousin, but that might be pushing it. Not sure you could handle her anyway.”

  Sitting opposite over their dying friend, they almost enjoyed feeling normal with their typical banter. Messing around got them through some tough, emotional shit when there was little to do but wait. Along with Jack, the three had been inseparable for years. Would never be the same, but it felt good to be together again, all three, one last time.

  “You got yourself a woman already? You move fast.” Raising an eyebrow, Zane smiled mischievously.

  Pulling out his phone, Asher scrolled through to find the picture he’d snapped of Sophie at the rehearsal dinner. The smile she’d given him when he’d found her looking out over the valley, escaping the crowd.

  Whistling, Zane ripped the phone out of his hands. “Not bad, Sutherland. Not bad at all. She have a sister?”

  “Sorry, she’s one of a kind. An accountant. All responsibility but gives as good as she gets.”

  “And fucking hot. You keeping her?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Taking his phone back, he stared at her photo a minute. Her mouth was quirked in a flirty smile, her multi-toned blond hair wild in the breeze. He’d updated her throughout the day by text but needed to hear her voice.

  “She know that yet?” Damn, Zane knew him too well. In all the years they’d known each other, both had initially enjoyed the company of SEAL groupies.

  After their first major op, the appeal had seriously worn off. Neither had dated much after that, Asher least of all. The guys enjoyed ragging him for being a commitment-phobe or some shit like that.

  “Working on it.”

  One of the machines, which had been beeping an almost soothing rhythm before, suddenly started to alarm incessantly. Crashing into the room came the nurse from before along with three others close behind. Not arguing, Zane and Asher stepped outside the room and watched through the window.

  Asher tried to pull his eyes away but couldn’t shield himself from the awful image as they tried everything to save Jack. CPR, pushing meds, adjusting the oxygen. Everyone cool and composed in their voices but frantically fast in each call and intervention. Minutes passed before the doc in the room called it. “Time of death 1026.”

  He was gone.

  The nurse pulled the sheets back up to cover most of Jack and let Asher and Zane back in the room to sit with his body. Words of sincere apologies came from the code team, devastated to have been unable to save their friend. With grim nods, they thanked the team for trying.

  Sitting in silence across the bed again, neither felt any shame at the flood of tears that pou
red down their faces.

  “I’ll let the rest of the guys know. He didn’t want a funeral or anything; he’d told me that when we weren’t sure he was going to make it after the injury. But I feel like we should at least spread his ashes somewhere decent.” Zane wiped away the last tear from his cheek and sat up with a clearing snuffle.

  “Let’s not call it a funeral then, but bring up his ashes and we can toast a drink in his name when you get to Foothills.”

  Zane shook his head with a small smile. “You’re not giving up on me coming, are you?”

  Reaching across, Asher extended his hand, “You have two weeks. Get your ass up there.”

  With a teary half-smile, Zane shook the offered hand.

  ***

  Exhausted from a sleepless night and an emotionally draining day, Asher finally staggered into his hotel room. Looking out the window, he watched the planes coming and going from the airport. Wished he could have found an early flight home, but maybe the extra time away from the chaos wasn’t such a bad idea.

  Dialing Sophie, he was worried she wouldn’t answer. It was after nine, and she’d likely be distracting Pippa from her wedding night jitters. Or already turned in for a good night’s sleep.

  She answered on the first ring, “How are you?”

  God, it felt so good to hear her voice. Worried, but he liked that she was worried about him. It meant she was as deep in this as he was. “He’s gone. I’m at a hotel for the night.”

  “I’m so sorry. I hoped you’d call tonight. Zane holding up okay?” Her voice cracked in sympathy. She didn’t miss a beat. He’d mentioned Zane with some of the stories he’d told her about his time in the navy, but she’d paid attention. Knew it would be just the two of them with Jack.

  “Think he’ll be okay. I convinced him to come up to Foothills; he just got out two fucking days ago. Nice way to reenter society. Anyway, I gave him two weeks to get his ass up there.” He chuckled picturing Zane grudgingly, efficiently packing his things. Maybe even tonight. He wouldn’t linger.

 

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