The Day He Went Away

by Millikin, Jennifer

  “With your questions or how you’re walking?”

  He stops and looks down at me. His blue eyes crinkle at the corners, apologetic and sad. “Both.”

  “Thank you,” I say as he starts walking.

  He doesn't ask another question until we're back at the car. “Do you have ice packs at home?”

  I nod.

  “Do you have a wrap for your ankle?”

  “Yes.”

  He looks surprised. “Really?”

  “I have a whole first-aid kit. Fully stocked.”

  He opens the passenger door of my car and helps me into the seat. “You're ready for everything, aren't you?”

  Not everything. Nothing can prepare a person for heartbreak.

  He gets in the driver’s seat and looks at me. “Keys? Please don't tell me you left them out there.” He peers through the windshield at the mountain.

  I reach into the glove compartment, grab the keys, and hand them over.

  He turns on the car and backs out.

  “What about your car?” I point as we pass the only other car in the parking lot.

  “You can bring me back for it in the morning. Assuming your sprain isn't too bad.”

  “Are you staying the night with me?”

  “I can get an Uber.”

  My hand protests before my lips speak the words. “Stay the night. I don't want you going any further out of your way.”

  Nick drives out of the trailhead, and I give him directions. Before the mountain disappears from sight I look back at it. I can't believe I was up there in the dark.

  “Kate?”

  “Hmmm?” I look at Nick. The headlamp rests in his lap.

  “Ethan and I had an arrangement. If I died, he would take care of my mom. And if he died, I would take care of you.” Nick turns to look at me. “So that's what I'm going to do. I just thought you should know.” He looks back to the road.

  Tears well up in my eyes. I bite my knuckles and stare out my window.

  ***

  “This is a nice apartment,” Nick says when we walk in. He looks around. “Very…feminine.”

  From my place in his arms I turn my head to see what he sees. Lots of mirrors… Harper's idea. Candles everywhere. Harper's candles. A lot of ivory and light pink. Harper.

  “Thanks. You can probably put me down now.” I point and flex the toes below my hurt ankle.

  Nick frowns. “I don't think you should be holding your own weight yet.”

  He strides to the couch and puts me down. “I'll be back in a second.” He goes to the kitchen.

  Only his upper half is visible above the half-wall. He opens the freezer, then some drawers, a couple cabinets, and I hear glasses clink.

  “Why don't you ask me where stuff is?”

  He looks up at me and then looks back down. “I'm learning.”

  “Learning?”

  “Yeah.” He walks around the wall and back to me, arms full.

  “Lie back,” he instructs.

  While I'm doing that, he grabs my hurt foot and places it on two pillows.

  “Keep this elevated.”

  I nod, watching him wrap a bag of frozen peas in a kitchen towel. He adds the frozen peas to the top of my ankle.

  “I have ice packs in there.”

  “I saw. Peas are better. Try not to move. It needs to stay on there.” He studies my ankle, then looks around. He leans back, grabs a pillow off the loveseat, and gently tucks it under my head.

  “How do you feel?” he asks on his way back into the kitchen.

  “Embarrassed.” I sigh and push the hair out of my face. “I can't believe that happened. I've hiked that mountain a hundred times.”

  Nick walks back to the couch. “Why were you up there so late?”

  I look away.

  “You don't have to tell me. It's okay. Here.”

  I look back. In one hand Nick holds a water glass, in the other, a bottle of pills. “Anti-inflammatory. Two or three?”

  “But if I take those…” I need to see Ethan. If I take those I can't drink.

  “If you take these…?” Nick's eyebrows rise on his forehead.

  “Nothing, nothing.” I hold out a hand.

  Nick places the pills in my palm and helps me sit up. He hands me the glass of water.

  I don't know if I'll see you in my dreams now. The thought is soul crushing.

  I swallow the pills individually, each one heavy like a stone. When I'm done Nick takes the glass. I lie back down.

  “Tell me about Connecticut.”

  I close my eyes as Nick talks. His voice is deep and smooth.

  “…green. Different than the green here. The green back home is like the original color from the crayon box. Here it's more olive green.”

  His words start sounding far away.

  “…and the roads are way better out here. It's so easy to get around. And the Mexican food. Don't even get me started. I never knew what I was missing…”

  When I open my eyes again I'm in my bed. Nick's pulling my sheet up around me.

  “Sorry,” he whispers as he pulls the comforter over the sheet. “I was trying not to wake you.”

  “It's okay,” I mumble.

  “Go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning.” He turns toward the door.

  “Nick?”

  He pauses, looks back at me. “Yeah?”

  “My favorite color isn't pink.” I yawn and close my eyes. “It's green. Connecticut green.”

  His retreating footsteps sound far away.

  ***

  Something tickles my ear. My eyes open. Blonde hair hangs in my face.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice scratchy.

  Harper backs away so I can sit up.

  “He is way hotter than I remember. Please tell me he’s single. Scratch that. I don’t really care if he has a girlfriend.” She sends furtive glances out to the living room the whole time she talks.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes. “Can you please settle down?”

  “I don’t know if I can. Have you seen that body?”

  I scowl. “Of course not.”

  Harper scowls right back. “Quit acting like you don’t have eyes since Ethan died.”

  My chest tightens. “Fine. Go jump him. Attack the guy who recently fought in a war. While he’s sleeping. Tell me how that works out for you.”

  And there it is. The eye roll. She’s perfected it in recent months.

  “Why are you wearing that awful shirt when a super-hot guy is sleeping on your couch?” She pulls back the cover to see the rest of what I have on.

  I look down. Old plaid boxer shorts. Frowning, I pull the 5K Alzheimer's Run T-shirt away from my chest. He dressed me. Oh, my god. I sit up and rub my eyes.

  A throat clears. It’s not mine. It’s not Harpers.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Nick stands at the entrance to my bedroom. And he doesn’t look sorry at all. Instinctively my arms come up, crossing over my chest. I breathe a little sigh of relief when I feel the bump of the spaghetti strap tank top I wore underneath my shirt yesterday.

  “It's fine,” Harper coos. Her face softens. She glides to my dresser and leans against it, striking a pose in her nightgown. “Thank you for rescuing Kate. I knew you were the right person to call.”

  Nick's face doesn't change, even with Harper's preening. “Of course. I'm sorry I didn't remember you at first.”

  My throat constricts with contained laughter. Harper doesn’t bat an eye. She gives him a sympathetic look.

  “You've been through a lot these past few months. It's understandable. Kate's barely been able to get out of bed. It's a good thing she has to work, or she'd develop bedsores.”

  Nick looks at me. “How are you feeling?”

  “I haven't tried to walk on it yet. Obviously.” I point at the bed I'm still sitting in. “We should probably go get—”

  “Nick,” Harper breaks in like I wasn’t even speaking. “Let me make you breakfast, to say thank
you for everything you did for Kate last night. If you're waiting for her to make you breakfast, you'll starve. Kate doesn't cook anymore.” She pushes off from my dresser and walks out of the room, passing him where he stands in my doorway.

  He strides to my bed and sits down on the end. Now that Harper's gone his expression has softened. His eyes look kind.

  “Can I examine you?”

  I think about the clothes he put me in last night, how he’s already seen me half-naked. I gulp. “Yes.”

  I take my legs out from under the covers and stretch them out. There's a twinge of pain in my ankle, but it's not as bad as it was last night.

  Nick re-positions himself on my bed so he’s cross-legged and facing me. He picks up my injured ankle, turns it one way, then the other. His expression is serious.

  “Mild swelling. You could get an x-ray to check for ligament damage. But it's probably just a sprain. Don't go hiking for a while. Let yourself heal.” He holds up a bandage. “I’m going to wrap you. Just in case. If anything it will be a good reminder for you to take it easy.”

  I nod and watch him as he watches me. Gingerly he picks up my heel and begins wrapping my foot.

  “Did you change my clothes for me?” A flush creeps onto my cheeks.

  His face is impassive. “You were passed out, and your clothes were filthy.”

  The flush on my cheeks turns into a flame. He finishes the wrap and looks up.

  “I'm a professional, Kate. I was an Army medic and now I’m an EMT. And I respect you.”

  His words lessen my embarrassment. Only a fraction, though. “Thank you.”

  He leans back on his hands, eyes not leaving mine.

  “Are you going to let me be your friend?”

  “Friend? I thought you're supposed to be some kind of keeper.” It's so Ethan to appoint someone my caretaker. That was always his job.

  Nick frowns. “I'd rather be your friend. Keeper makes me think of a zoo animal.”

  My nose scrunches. “Well, in that case…”

  Nick leans in, hand stuck out between us. “Friends answer their phones. Deal?”

  Answer the phone.

  Interact.

  What will I lose?

  “Kate? Don't leave me hanging.” Nick pushes his open hand closer.

  I gulp. The first inch of fissure splits into the walls I've built. I don't want to heal, but I know I can't maintain this lifestyle. Drinking like this… Ethan would hate it. But how else am I supposed to keep him?

  My hand reaches out. If I feel Ethan slipping away, the agreement is void.

  “Deal.”

  Our intertwined hands are poised in mid-air.

  “For the record,” Nick’s eyes glint with triumph, “I’m glad I finally got the chance to start making good on my promise to Ethan.”

  Nick smiles, and I see why Ethan liked him.

  20

  Nick

  I can’t help my grimace as I settle into the front passenger seat of the ambulance. It feels like a dry sauna after being parked in the sun.

  “Bet you wish you stayed in Connecticut.”

  The comment comes from Chad Woodley, the driver and my first friend in Arizona. He chuckles at the face I’m making.

  I shrug. “Come December, I’ll be happy to be here and not there.”

  He nods, starting the engine and putting it in reverse. “That’s what we tell ourselves all summer long. Just get through summer and it’s smooth sailing until next summer.” He glances at me as he pulls into the street. “You’ll see.”

  I bite into the sandwich we’ve just stopped for and try not to be annoyed by the sweat I feel dripping down my neck. At least I get to eat. Chad has to drive, and he’s hot.

  I swallow my bite and ask, “What do you do here when it’s not hotter than the inside of an oven?”

  “Eat every meal outside. Take my kids to the park. Go hiking. On my days off when my kids are in school I like to hike Camelback. It’s beautiful up there. Difficult hike, too. I’ll take you up there.”

  I nod, but I don’t tell him I was up there last night. Not that I got the chance to enjoy any of the hike, since it was pretty dark and I wasn’t exactly going along at a leisurely pace.

  “Sounds good,” I tell him, finishing off my sandwich.

  He starts talking about his kids, but I’m only half-listening. My mind is on the reason I was on Camelback Mountain last night.

  I’d just gotten home from work when Harper called. She went on about how Kate thinks she’s in trouble, but Harper thought she was just being dramatic. I knew right away how wrong Harper was. Kate and the word dramatic don’t go together.

  First of all, Ethan wouldn’t have been in love with someone like that. Second, none of his stories about Kate made her seem like a person with a predisposition for drama.

  After interrupting Harper and getting her to tell me where Kate was, I hung up as quickly as I could. Harper was in the middle of telling me about the woman whose party she was throwing when I told her flat out that I needed to hang up.

  I said goodbye without waiting for her response.

  Harper might be Kate’s roommate, but she gives off bad vibes. I like to think I’m pretty good at reading people, and everything about Harper tells me her intentions are to the benefit of her only.

  It didn’t take me long to reach the place where Harper said I’d find Kate. It was easy enough to find, considering it’s a massive mountain in the center of Phoenix. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t something so big. I’d thought to grab my headlight on my way out the door, but even with that I wasn’t so sure this rescue attempt was going to go smoothly.

  The first few hundred yards on the trail were easy, but then the mountain pulled an about-face. The terrain turned rocky, and vertical to the point I’d had to use the rails installed to help people along.

  That’s when I called Kate. Luckily for both of us she wasn’t too far up the trail. Once I cleared the vertical section I moved faster, and it wasn’t too long after that I found Kate.

  She looked tired, worn out, but not too bad considering the pain she was in. I like to think her mood was helped by our conversation as I made my way up the trail.

  I lifted her in my arms, and the smell of something floral and sweet washed over me.

  She gazed up at me, searching for something, but I can’t say what. I still don’t understand that look on her face.

  Or why she has been ignoring me the past few months. I’ve been giving her space, knowing how hard this all is on her, but she’s used up all the space I’m willing to give. I have a job to do, and she’s not going to keep me from doing it any longer.

  She agreed to be my friend, and that’s all I really need to make sure I accomplish what I came here to do.

  Chad is still talking about his kids. He speaks about them, and his wife, with reverence. It makes me hopeful. One day, I want to do the same. I want a messy house full of kids and a wife who gets down on the floor and plays with our kids. I want someone whose face I feel supremely lucky to wake up next to. I want someone who will fight with me and call me on my shit.

  She’ll be a fierce protector of our children, but so tender-hearted that she’ll kiss the pain away from their injuries.

  She’ll be everything my mom wasn’t.

  We pull back up to the station and Chad parks the ambulance. Our next task will be to clean and restock the back of the ambulance following our last call.

  Just in time too, before I have any more of a chance to think about the kind of parent my mom was before she put down the bottle.

  21

  Kate

  Two weeks later I’m sitting at work when Nick calls. As promised, I answer my phone.

  “It worked,” he says in lieu of hello.

  “What worked?”

  “Your phone.”

  “I told you I would answer.” As hard as it is, I tear my eyes from the email I’m writing.

  “How’s the ankle?”
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  “Healed, I guess. No pain. I’ve stayed off it, like you told me to.” It wasn’t too hard to follow Nick’s instructions. It’s not like I do much these days.

  “Good. So here's the thing. I need cooking lessons. If I bring over some stuff, will you teach me how to make it?” His voice is hopeful.

  “What makes you think I know how to cook?” My panic level rises. I haven't cooked in four months. I live on sandwiches and salads. Things that can be assembled. Cooking was Old Kate.

  “That morning at your place Harper said you don't cook anymore. And Evie told me you used to cook all the time.”

  I stay quiet.

  “So, here's what I'm proposing. Every Thursday night I bring over food and you teach me how to prepare it. Weekly lessons.”

  My teeth work my bottom lip as I pick up a pen and start doodling on a piece of paper on my desk. “You know there are instructions and videos all over the Internet, right?” I sketch a tiny carrot.

  “I'm a visual learner.” This guy has an answer for everything. I draw a small banana.

  “Do you have a recipe you want to try?”

  “Risotto.”

  I draw little grains of rice. “You're starting with risotto? I thought you were going to say something easy, like pasta.”

  “I like a challenge.”

  “Risotto it is.”

  He hangs up after we agree on a time. I look at my pathetic excuse for a drawing. Ethan was always the better artist. My thing was words. Fitting them together, arranging them so they flowed in a smooth undulation.

  Sarah appears at my side. “I heard you say risotto, and now I'm hungry.” She glances at the paper on the desk in front of me. “Nice drawing. Very… third grade.”

  “I skipped art class.” I ball up the paper and toss it in the trash.

  “Want to get lunch? I mean, can you?” Sarah lowers her voice. “Are you taking lunch anymore?”

  My eyebrows pull together. “Yes, why?”

  “Well, um, I um…” Sarah picks at a pleat in her skirt and clears her throat. “You've been late every day this week, so I wasn't sure.”

  “When you saw me this morning, I was coming from Lynn's office. I wasn't late.” Monday through Wednesday, that's a different story.