by Kacey Shea
“Of course, I am.”
“Good. Now, do you want to tell me why you were crying?”
“Not really.” I laugh and he does, too. Kiki pokes her head out from the hallway and waves before shuffling back down the hall to her bedroom.
“Want me to tell you about the Model T we had in the shop last week? Damn, she was a beauty.”
“Yes.” I nod, though he can’t see my face. “Tell me all about it.” I fall onto the couch in Kiki’s living room and watch the snow build outside the window while my dad regales me with tales of engine rebuilds and custom paint jobs. It’s better than the blanket I wrap around my shoulders. Just add it to the ever growing reasons why I love my dad.
I love organized moves.
And with a full week allocated to plan, my predisposition to organize when stressed is fully content. Today’s the day. I’m moving back to my place. It’s secure, safe, and there isn’t a gaping hole on one side. There’re still a bunch of cosmetic repairs to be made, but my contractor assured me it’s safe and ready for full time occupancy.
My heart, however, needs to get on board with this move because since waking up I’ve been choking back tears each time I think about not living here with my favorite roomie. I wish I were more excited about moving back. I like living here with Kiki. But I’ve mooched long enough and it’s time to go home.
“Callie, dear, I’m so sorry I can’t help you today.” Kiki breezes into the kitchen, pours herself a cup of coffee and joins me at the table where I’ve been mentally prepping for this day with the help of my first mug.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m going to take a few loads over and clean first. Once Jill gets off work she’ll come help me unpack.”
“Alicia’s not helping?”
“She’s on a trip with her family this week. They always go to Cabo for Thanksgiving. Their tradition.”
“Sounds like my kind of tradition.” Kiki grins. “And Ashley?” The skin above her eyes lifts and her lips purse. I know she wants to say more but I’m glad she doesn’t. He’s been distant all week. A few texts here and there, but he hasn’t stopped by since Sunday. It’s not like him, or us, to go that long without hanging out and I miss him.
“Working,” I answer instead.
Kiki nods, stands from the chair, and washes out her now empty mug in the sink. “Well, I better be going. The bazaar opens at ten. You should stop by later if you finish early.” She shuffles over to the laundry room to grab a large duffle bag and places it on the counter. I helped her set up her booth yesterday so I’m not sure what else she’s planning to bring. That’s an awfully large bag.
“Kiki.” I stand, refill my mug, and lean against the counter. She disappears into the living room.
“Yes dear?” she calls.
“What are you doing? I thought we got everything yesterday?”
She appears in the doorway, a very unamused Silas clenched to her bosom. “We did. Thank you.” She says with a sweet smile and then drops the cat into the bag and zips it shut.
“Kiki!” I yell with a laugh. “You can’t bring a cat to the library!”
“And why the hell not?” she sasses with a hand on one hip.
“It’s against the law. I’m pretty sure.”
“It’s fine, Callie. You worry too much. Barry brings his dog in all the time.”
“Barry is blind.”
“So?”
“He has a service dog.” Her blank look tells me this is going nowhere. “Do you at least need help carrying the bag?” For once I feel a little bad for the fat tabby. He’s spoiled rotten but that’s no pet carrier. I hope there are holes for him to breathe.
“I’m fine, dear.” She lugs the strap over one shoulder and Silas hisses in response. Yep. Poor kitty. “Have a lovely moving day. It’s been a real pleasure having you stay with me, Callie.”
I swallow a mouthful of coffee and set my mug on the counter, steeling myself against the part inside that’s more than a little emotional about leaving. “Thank you, Kiki. For everything. I’ll still come by all the time. That is, if it’s okay.”
“You are always welcome here. Keep your key.” She steps close and pats my cheek. “You’re a good woman, Callie Gordon. You deserve the world. Always remember that.”
I nod, unable to speak or risk becoming a blubbery mess.
“Now, wish me luck! I want all my paintings to sell.” She grins and scoots out of the kitchen with Silas banging around at her hip.
“Good luck!” I call after her. She’ll need it with those vagina flowers. Maybe they’d sell in a hippie town or even an adult only store, but this part of Richmond is way too conservative to want those paintings decorating bathroom walls. I’m honestly surprised the women’s guild didn’t boot her from the show. The door closes with a thud and a click of the lock, and I glance around the kitchen. I’ve procrastinated enough. Time to get this day underway. First task: take the first load over and clean the place from top to bottom.
The music disconnects and my ringtone sings across the kitchen from the little speaker dock that serenades my clean fest. I set down the disinfectant and rag and race to see who’s calling. The number and name flash across my phone screen. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! I almost don’t pick up. But a sudden urge of anger, violence, and fuck-you-Chase-Matthews rolls through my veins, causing my finger to slide across the screen.
“I told you to never call me again, Chase.”
“Callie, don’t hang up—”
“You have some nerve calling me right now! Do you enjoy this? Just waiting for me to be happy again to start the harassment? I should’ve never wasted a single breath on your sorry ass!” It feels good to say all the things I’ve always wanted.
“Callie, listen to me—” He tries to interrupt but I’m not done. I need to say my peace so I can finally leave him where he belongs. In my past.
“No, you listen to me, Chase Matthews. I hate that I ever met you. I hate that you made me think I loved you. You tore me down, one digging observation at a time and you tainted my friendship with Alicia. You made me question my beauty, my value, my intrigue as a woman, and it wasn’t until Ash came along that I discovered the truth. I am gorgeous, I’m sexy, and I’m a fucking catch! Your dumb ass has to live with the reality that you missed your chance, so delete this number and don’t fucking call me again. Ever!”
“I know!” he shouts and his tone is laced with fear. “Just don’t hang up. You’re right and I’m sorry but that’s not why I called. Callie . . . it’s Ash.” There’s sorrow in his tone, maybe even regret, but I don’t hear that. The only sound I hear is the blood that rushes in my ears. I stumble to the table and drop down into a chair because my legs suddenly feel too heavy for my frame.
“Ash?” Sickness consumes the pit of my stomach and I know. I just know that something horrible has happened. Chase continues talking but all I catch are a series of words; utterances that fuel the apprehension prickling my skin—fire—accident—fall—unconscious—not breathing—Mercy Hospital.
“Callie? Callie, he needs you. I called Jill. She’s on her way. She’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”
No. I can’t wait that long. My legs work just fine and Ash needs me. He needs me—it beats through my entire body as I pop up from the table. I race to the door, shove my feet in my boots. Purse over one shoulder, keys in hand, and I’m out the door in thirty seconds. The freezing air sends goosebumps over my skin, but I’m not wasting a second to run back for a coat. Ash needs me.
“Callie? Callie, you still there?” God, I didn’t realize I was still cradling my phone on my shoulder. Key in the ignition, my Jeep roars to life.
“Chase. I’ve got to go. Thanks for calling.”
“Callie, I don’t want you driving. You’re too upset.”
“Look. Thanks for calling, but you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. You lost that privilege a long time ago. Tell Ash I’m on my way.” I press end and toss my phone into my purse,
whip my Jeep out of the drive and toward the highway.
Ash. Be okay. Please dear God, let him be well.
I hate fear.
How it illuminates all the sensations, how time ticks by minutes slower, how every fucking car in the world seems to be out for a cruise, how my heart hammers inside my ribs and all the way up to my throat.
It’s déjà vu all over again in my race to the county hospital. Only this time it’s not for Chase, and my fear is real and purposeful—for Ash. He has to be okay. I can’t even consider the alternative. I can’t live this life without my best friend and the man who owns a very large piece of my heart. I swing into an open parking space and my boots hit the pavement with soft thuds as I run to the emergency room door. From previous experience I know I won’t be allowed past the front desk and I don’t even try. Instead, I opt to wait against the wall where the double doors open every so often.
I’m impatient, waiting, and it’s all I can do to stay put. A soft click and a beep opens them moments later and a man in scrubs walks through with his gaze focused on his phone. Just before the doors shut, I slip through and pretend the best I can to navigate the halls confidently so I appear to belong.
The corridor to my left has a sign pointing to the intensive care unit. Apprehension prickles my skin. I don’t want to find him here, but I fear it’s where I will. Breathe, Callie. Each inhale is a struggle, as if there’s not enough air, and my breaths fall short. I follow the sign and automatic doors sense my presence and click audibly before they open to the waiting area. I lift my chin to scan the room and my pulse picks up when I spot Chase, Cam, and Tiff.
Cam paces the length of the corridor dressed in his county fire pants and long sleeved T-shirt. Chase sits, hunched over and dressed the same, his hands covering his face. Tiff rubs Chase’s back, her features pinched in a deep scowl, and her lips move with her hushed voice. I stride over and it hits me that I feel nothing for Chase. No anxious excitement, bubbling nerves. No anger or hate, not love or lust. Nothing. I don’t love him. All I want is to know where Ash is so I can be by his side.
“—we need to make this decision. It’s what she’d—” Tiff’s eyes snap up to meet mine.
“Where’s Ash? Is he all right?” My words earn all three of their gazes.
“Callie.” Chase stands. It’s then I realize how filthy he is. Dirt and grime smear his features and his voice scrapes rough. He reaches for me but I hold my hands in front to stop him from coming close.
“Don’t. I need to see him. Where is he?”
“Callie, it’s not—”
Shouts and curse words float down the opposite hallway and I know exactly who they belong to. I run toward the sound. My pulse beats with joy. If he can cuss out the nurses, he’s doing fine!
“God damn it, get me off the fucking line. I’m going to her. If you don’t get me a pair of fucking crutches and unhook me I’m pulling the IV out myself!” His shouts carry down the hall.
A woman’s voice answers, except it is hard, stern, and full of irritation. “Sir. Calm down. You’re not going anywhere. You have a broken fibula and until we get your results from the MRI you’re staying in this bed. Now, I paged the doctor. They’re a little busy right—”
Finding the door open I rush inside to where Ash sits up in his bed. His eyes lift to my face and my lips pull slowly into a wide smile. His eyes widen and he stops struggling with the poor nurse. She steps around me and slinks from the room. Tears prick my eyes as I take him in. His face is scraped and his dry lips cracked. His left leg is propped on several pillows and wrapped in some sort of splint. Step by steady step I walk to the edge of his bed and his gaze never leaves mine, the amber swirls amongst the green like a raging storm.
“You’re okay,” I whisper. So much relief fills my mind that I’m afraid if I say the words too loudly they won’t be true.
“How—”
“Chase called me.” His eyes narrow.
“Chase,” he grits out.
I reach out and touch his arm with the tips of my fingers. I need to feel him, to know he’s safe. “Doesn’t matter who called, I’m here.” I say and his gaze follows my tongue as I trace it across my parched lips.
His eyes drop to his leg and his mouth twists with a wince. “I’m sorry, Callie. I tried.” He’s so distraught. I rest my hip on the edge of his bed and reach my hand to run along his jaw. His eyes shut tight and he leans into my touch. “I’m sorry.” He says again, this time his voice breaks.
“You’re fine. You’re okay. That’s all that matters. Don’t apologize.” His chin lifts out of my touch and I drop my hand to my lap.
Ash shakes his head. “They didn’t tell you?” His eyes catch the light as they fill with unshed tears. His brow pulls into a scowl and he winces again.
“What? Tell me what?” The fear is back, stealing my breath and sending a shiver up my spine.
The nurse knocks on the door and steps inside. “Dr. Erickson says he’ll be by to check on you within the hour. If you’re a good patient, he may get you a wheelchair.” Her lips pull in a tight line and she raises her brow.
“At least tell me if she’s okay,” he practically growls.
“Sir, you know we can only release that information to immediate family.” Wait, I’m lost. Who—?
“Callie.” Ash’s rough voice, deep with untethered emotion pulls my gaze back to his face. “Callie, please go to her. Find out if Kiki will be all right. I’m sorry. I tried. I fucking tried. You have to know that.”
I can’t breathe.
Time stops.
Ash’s touch on my hand jolts me back to reality.
“What happened?” I say as I pull myself from the bed’s edge and stumble to my feet.
“There was a fire. At the library. I tried, Callie. I fucking tried. I swear it.” Wetness trails down his cheeks and his eyes swim with sorrow. “Go to her. She needs you.” His pain prevents my feet from moving out the door. I want to do as he asks but his sadness . . . he’s drowning and I can’t leave him alone.
“Go!” His voice grows hard as he glares over my shoulder. “I’ll come find you as soon as they fucking let me move!”
I nod. I’m torn between staying with him and finding Kiki. I stumble down the hall, my muscles tight and rigid as I push them to move quicker.
“What do you think, Cam?” Chase says as I near the waiting room again. They’ve all moved; they’re now huddled in a loose circle with one of the hospital staff.
Cam rubs his hands over his face, smudging some of the grime away. I wonder if they were all at the fire together. How many people were there? Injured? With such a large community event in that old building . . . my heart aches with loss. “I don’t know. When do we need a decision?”
The person wearing scrubs bristles officiously. “It’s important Mary Katherine’s next of kin come to a unified choice on the matter. That or produce a living will.”
Tiff’s face pinches into an ugly scowl. “Why should we wait? Take her off the machines. She’s an old woman and done enough in this life.”
I step into the room from the hallway. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll check back soon.” The staff member excuses himself and walks away. Tiff glares my way and then turns on her heel before taking a seat at the other end of the room.
Chase’s chocolate eyes seem to plead . . . but for what? “Callie, Kiki sustained extensive injuries before Ash pulled her from the fire.”
“It was dangerous on his part disobeying orders to evacuate.” Cam interrupts in a near yell. “The idiot not only endangered his own life, but put half the goddamn department at risk! I get he wanted to save her, but at what cost?”
“Cam,” Chase warns, and Cam gives his head a shake.
“Fuck it. I’m going for a walk. I need some air.” Cam stomps away, leaving me alone with Chase, while Tiff glares from across the room. If her gaze contained the power to take me out right now, it would.
“Where’s Kiki? And w
hat was that doctor talking about?” I’m almost certain I already know, but I can’t believe what’s happening.
“She’s on life support. There’s swelling in her brain. Shattered bones. We—her next of kin—have to make decisions about her care.” Chase remains clear, pointed, calm, but the walls in the room start to close in on me as if this were a nightmare.
“What are you talking about? Kiki doesn’t have any children. She told me so.” Chase nods once.
“Her late husband married my step-mother. Legally, Cam and Tiff are responsible for the decisions in her medical care.”
“What? No! There’s got to be someone else.”
“No one else. Her parents passed years ago. Same as her husband. She has no siblings.”
“No.” It can’t be true.
“No?” His left brow rises.
“There’s no way Cam and Tiff can be responsible for Kiki’s care. She doesn’t have a relationship with them. They don’t love her. They don’t care about her well-being! You heard Tiff!”
“Calm down, Callie,” Chase chastises. “It’s the law. There’s nothing you can do.”
“Take me to her,” I demand and Chase blows out an exaggerated breath.
“I can’t do that. Family only. Hospital rules.” He glances around.
“You owe me. Take me to her. Please.” My voice is steadier and stronger than I feel right now. He glances over my shoulder and then touches my arm, just above my elbow with a soft nudge. I let him lead me down a long hallway to an area I’ve never been. The rooms here are larger with glass walls so patients can be viewed from the hall. They contain even more medical equipment and there aren’t visitors milling around. I keep my gaze trained at the floor, not willing or wanting to look inside the patients’ rooms. Chase stops short and grips my elbow. I stop beside him. He pulls open a door and what’s inside almost stops my heart.
Oh, Kiki.
I inhale sharply to cut the sob before it escapes my lips.
“You gonna be able to handle this? If not, we leave now. She’s under enough stress. You need to be strong for her.” His fingers haven’t yet released my arm. He’s right and I hate him a little for that. But I need to be strong for my friend right now. I nod, unable to speak, and he leads me to the side of her bed, pulls over a chair so I can sit beside her.