Hidden

by Selena Laurence

  I nodded again, reaching out and taking an olive out of the condiment tray on the bar top. “I have a huge amount of respect for her. So much that I’m sort of scared of screwing up, you know?” I popped the olive into my mouth.

  He smiled in a knowing way. “Oh, do I ever. But you need to remember that you will screw up, kid. It’s what you do after you screw up that counts. Ask my wife about that sometime. Meanwhile you’re never going to get your chance to screw up if you don’t make a move.”

  “Actually I was planning on asking her out tonight.” I tried to sound confident when I felt anything but.

  “Well, she’s in the back, so you’d better get to it.” Raoul leaned through the swinging door to the kitchen and hollered, “Lyndsey! Get out here!”

  I choked on the mouthful of beer I was trying to swallow. “Shit, man,” I hissed. “I didn’t mean right this minute. I meant when there was a good opening.”

  Raoul grinned at me and looked really smug. “You’ve taken long enough, son. I’m the closest thing she’s got to a father and I’ve approved you, but you need to grow a pair.”

  Aw hell.

  Lyndsey came through the door from the kitchen wiping her hands on her little waitress apron. “What are you yelling about out here, old man?” she said, scowling at Raoul.

  Raoul laughed and jabbed his thumb in my direction. “You’ve got company, and I’ve got to go see my wife, so man the bar for a bit.” He winked at me then went to the kitchen.

  Chapter 6

  Lyndsey

  I knew by the way Raoul demanded I come out to the bar and then disappeared, something was going on. I looked askance at him as he hustled away to the kitchen. Turning back to Nick I gave him a smile and said, “Hey, do you want some food to go with the beer?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and looked kind of uncomfortable. “Uh, no, I’m good.” He took a deep breath, then let it out and looked up from his mug of beer. “How are you?”

  I dried the glasses that were sitting in the rinse bin below the bar top. “I’m good,” I answered. “Are you waiting on Gabe?”

  Nick took a big swig of his beer and set it back down. “Nope, all on my own tonight.” He gave me a little half smile and a wink. I could feel my knees start to liquefy. Damn him.

  “So, hey, can you come here a minute?” he said.

  I walked over to the space across the bar top from him. “Yeah?”

  He put his arms on the bar and leaned forward. Then he looked down at my hands that were also resting on the bar top. He ran his finger over the back of my wrists. I melted a little bit more.

  “I know we never really talked about it, but I had a great time teaching you to surf a few weeks ago.” His voice was low, and I could see the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. I resisted the urge to reach out and feel that stubble scrape across my skin. It made him look older, more dangerous, extremely sexy.

  I nodded, finding it hard to speak right then.

  “And even though you were pissed at me half the time, I also really liked seeing you at the SOaDA thing. The, uh, car ride home was my favorite part.” He kept his face turned down to where we were touching, but looked up at me with his blue eyes and grinned a little.

  I felt my cheeks heat at the memory, as well as some lower parts of me, and I bit my lip trying to keep from turning into a puddle on the floor.

  “I know I’ve asked you to hang out a couple of times, and I also realize I didn’t sound very serious when I asked.” His finger progressed from my wrist up my arm, slowly, trailing heat behind it. “I think that was my way of trying not to get humiliated if you turned me down. But, I have it on good authority that you probably don’t take me very seriously now, so you’ll keep turning me down.”

  I laughed, wondering who was giving him advice on his love life. The idea of him and Gabe sitting around talking about how to get girls to go out with them was pretty hilarious.

  “Now you’re laughing at me,” he blurted out sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. My skin screamed, “Wait! Come back!” to his magical fingers.

  I stopped giggling and composed my face. “Absolutely not, I was laughing with you,” I said faux seriously.

  “Great,” he mumbled. “Fuck this!” he said, then jumped up from his stool and strode around behind the bar.

  “You’re not supposed to—” I said as he reached me, grabbed me around the waist and pulled me tight against him, pressing against me from ankle to chest in one smooth move.

  “Lyndsey,” he said gruffly. “I’m crazy about you. Go out with me?” And he kissed me. At first it was firm, like he expected me to push him away, but when I didn’t, he leaned back a bit, and brushed his lips across mine before his tongue followed suit. I inhaled through my nose, feeling my hands tremble as they floated up to his shoulders all on their own, and then found their way around his neck as well.

  What was it about this guy? This one. All the other guys I’d been able to ignore for the last three years. I’d turned down their come-ons; I hadn’t returned their flirtatious looks. But Nick Carlisle did things to me that no one else ever had.

  I exhaled into his mouth and a little whimper came out too, as he pulled me closer. I could feel the muscles of his chest pressed against mine, and his hips nudged into me more, causing a jolt to go through my gut.

  I opened my mouth as his tongue swept in, bringing with it the tang of a citrusy beer and heat that shot straight down my body. His breathing increased, and I ran my hands down from his shoulders to his chest and then down to the hem of his T-shirt. I moved my fingers up under the shirt edge, touching his smooth stomach and traveling over the ridges of his abs like a blind person would explore the topography of a 3D map. My heart beat so fast it felt like I’d been to a spin class, and I felt sweat break out between my breasts.

  His arms around my waist tightened for a moment and then he released me and as his lips gently drew away from mine, he took my hands and pulled them slowly out from under his shirt. Then he held me and rested his forehead against mine. Both of us were breathing heavily, and he made a small humming sound before he spoke in a whisper.

  “Wow. Can I count that as a yes?”

  I had to clear my throat before I answered him. “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea, Nick.”

  “I think it’s the best damn idea we’ve had in a while.” He breathed in, his eyes focused on my lips. He let go of my hands, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs, and leaned in for another kiss when we heard a huge crash from the kitchen and Leesa screamed.

  * * *

  Nick released me as I pulled toward the kitchen. I slammed through the heavy metal door, Nick barely a half step behind me. I thought I’d see a fire or maybe Leesa bleeding after she’d chopped off a finger with one of her huge knives. What I found instead was her kneeling on the floor next to Raoul who was very still.

  “Oh my God, what happened?” I cried as I rushed over to them and knelt on the other side of him. Leesa was crying and stroking his head. “Kuuipo.” My beloved, she crooned over and over.

  I felt Nick’s hand on my shoulder. “Hey, can I take a look at him?” he asked. I nodded and scooted away as Nick leaned in and put his fingers to Raoul’s neck. He checked his watch for a moment. He felt all around Raoul’s head and then his ribs and chest.

  “Leesa?” he said gently. She looked up at him. “Did he hit his head before he collapsed?” She shook her head. Nick nodded, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. Leesa just kept crying as she rocked next to Raoul, holding his hand and stroking his hair. I could see Raoul’s chest rising and falling as he breathed, but his face was deathly pale, and he didn’t move any other part of his body.

  “Yeah, we need an ambulance here at The Grill restaurant on Onekahakaha beach . . . A male victim is breathing but unresponsive, no visible injuries, he’s in his mid-fifties . . .” Nick glanced at me and I nodded my head before he continued. “He has a pulse but it’s rapid . . . Yes ma’am . . . Nick Carlisl
e. I’d like to give the phone to someone else here while I do that . . .thank you.” He held the phone out to me. “It’ll be okay,” he said.

  I moved around to Raoul’s other side and put my arms around Leesa and held her, phone in one hand, while Nick rolled Raoul onto his side. Nick also kept a watch on Raoul’s pulse. The tile floor was cold, and all I could think was that Raoul would get a chill. Leesa’s quiet weeping was the only sound that permeated the fog in my head. Luckily it wasn’t long before we heard the sirens of the ambulance.

  “I’ll go help them in,” Nick said to me as he stood up. I tried to smile at him.

  A couple of minutes later Nick led two paramedics into the kitchen through the back door. I pulled Leesa away from Raoul so that the paramedics could work on him. They asked Leesa a few basic questions, then they put him on a gurney and moved him toward the back door to load him into the ambulance waiting outside. Leesa was sobbing on my shoulder, but Nick came up behind me and said quietly in my other ear, “Are you able to drive her to the hospital?”

  I turned to look at him. “Yeah, I can do it.”

  “Okay, I’ll clear out the rest of the customers and lock everything up. Are there keys somewhere?”

  “Under the bar. Raoul keeps his keys there in a little basket,” I choked out.

  “I got this then, so go. I’ll come as soon as everything’s clear here.”

  I nodded yet again and whispered words of encouragement to Leesa as we moved to the back door.

  “Lyndsey?” Nick called.

  I turned to look at him.

  “Drive carefully. Please?” he said smiling sadly at me.

  “I will. Thank you, Nick.”

  Nick

  After I explained the situation to the old guys hanging out in the restaurant watching the TVs, they all cleared out fast, a couple of them even helping me turn out lights, shut off the stove, and wash up as best we could. I locked the doors and jogged out to my truck to head to the hospital, wondering what the hell had happened to Raoul and if he was going to make it.

  When I arrived in the ER, the nurse told me that Raoul had been sent straight to the ICU and she gave me directions to the separate waiting room for that ward. I stopped off at a vending machine and grabbed a couple of bottles of water then jumped in the elevators and went up to the seventh floor. As the doors opened I saw Lyndsey, sitting by herself staring out the window in the waiting area. I stopped for a minute, struck down by the vision of her. So beautiful and so damned sad at the same time. I was overwhelmed by this feeling that I never wanted to see her that sad again, and I’d do just about anything to keep that look off of her face.

  There were only a handful of people in the waiting room. Everything in the place was hushed, and as my rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the tile floors I felt like a kid who talked too loud in a library. I walked over to Lyndsey and knelt down on the floor in front of where she was sitting. She looked at me as if I’d appeared by magic.

  “Hey.” I took her hand in mine and rubbed my thumb across it gently.

  “Hi,” she said, trying to smile at me.

  “Where’s Leesa?”

  “They took her back with him. I don’t know how long it’s been, but Nick?”

  “Yeah, Goldilocks?”

  “I don’t think it’s a heart attack or a stroke or anything . . . when we got here, Leesa asked for this one particular doctor and told them that he’d know about Raoul’s case. I mean what does that mean, his case?”

  “I’m not sure, but you’ve gotta stay positive, okay? For his sake.”

  She nodded, visibly working not to cry. The smell of rubbing alcohol was strong enough to make visitors’ eyes water even if they weren’t crying over a sick friend or family member.

  “Shh, it’s okay. It really is, I’m not going to leave you, and Raoul’s tough. He’s gonna make it. He will.”

  She nodded her head periodically as I said the random things people are supposed to say in the middle of crises, the things that are supposed to be comforting them. But I’d found after Afghanistan, those things are usually a bunch of bullshit. Because, bottom line, I had no idea what was wrong with Raoul, and he could already be dead in a hospital bed down the hall for all I knew.

  We didn’t talk anymore, just sat there holding hands. Eventually I even tuned out the PA system that kept calling for certain staff members. We were in that strange in between place of waiting to find out if someone we cared about was still in this world or not. I was lucky in a way, I suppose. When Aubra was shot she died immediately. I’d never had to wait to see what happened to her, I got to witness it all in blinding color.

  After forty-five minutes or so a doctor came out to talk to us. His nametag said Oncology on it, and I figured that was not a good sign, but I didn’t want to point it out to Lyndsey who seemed to be concentrating so hard on keeping it together that I doubted she noticed his department.

  “Are you Ms. Anderson?” the doctor said as he approached us.

  “Yes,” Lyndsey answered, standing up and taking a step in his direction. I followed her and took her hand in mine as we faced the voice of Raoul’s fate.

  “I’m Dr. Lewis,” he said as he shook her hand and then mine. He was a really average looking guy, probably in his mid-thirties, with wire-rimmed glasses, and when I went to shake his hand I noticed that it was icy cold. I wondered if after working in such a cold place, full of all those hard surfaces, you became cold too.

  “They wanted me to give you an update on Mr. Ortega’s condition. You’ve been added to the family list by Mrs. Ortega, so you can receive updates by phone as well if you call in to the hospital at any time.”

  “Okay.” Lyndsey nodded.

  The doctor cleared his throat. “So, it’s my understanding that you weren’t aware of his recent diagnosis?”

  Lyndsey looked at me, and I saw the fear in her eyes. Her eyes darted back and forth between the doctor and me. “I’m Nick Carlisle, doctor.” I hoped I wasn’t overstepping, but she looked like she might faint if she had to talk right then. “I’m a family friend. I think Lyndsey knew that something might be going on with Raoul’s health but he hadn’t had time to explain it all to her yet.” Lyndsey squeezed my hand and stepped a little closer to me, indicating I’d done the right thing.

  The doctor nodded. “These types of diagnoses are hard for patients to talk about with their closest family and friends,” he said solemnly. “Why don’t you sit down?” He gestured to the chairs we’d just vacated and pulled a third one up to face us.

  He sat down and started talking. “Raoul has pancreatic cancer, Ms. Anderson.”

  Lyndsey gasped and clutched my hand so tight it hurt. I switched hands so I could gently rub her back as she struggled to catch her breath. The doctor looked slightly ill, and I could tell this was not his favorite part of the job.

  “How advanced is it?” I asked.

  “This is one of the toughest types of cancer to diagnose and treat,” he continued. “It’s pretty common that by the time we find out someone’s got it, it’s already spread to other areas of the body. Mr. Ortega wasn’t an exception to that . . .” Lyndsey trembled a couple of times, but when I looked at her face her eyes were dry. I put my arm around her and she tucked her head into my shoulder. I nodded at the doctor indicating he should continue. I knew even if Lyndsey couldn’t process it all right now, one of us needed to hear it.

  The doctor scratched his head and checked his watch before he went on. “Mr. Ortega’s cancer has spread to the lymph nodes and the liver. He’s got stage IV metastatic cancer, and it’s not curable.”

  At this, my own eyes almost welled up. Lyndsey laid her head on my chest as I held her. She was completely silent, but I could see her pain in the way she held her body. It was as though she’d been utterly defeated. It was one of those moments in life that I could never forget no matter how much I wished I could. Whether we ever saw each other again after today or not, Lyndsey and I were indelibly bonded by this on
e moment. We could see each other on a street thirty years from now and the first thing we’d think was: you were there when we heard about Raoul. I swallowed and got my own emotions under control. “So, what will happen to him now?” I asked quietly.

  “If we can get him stabilized and healthy enough we’ll give him chemotherapy to prolong his life. Generally the chemo extends the life span by several months. Once it’s no longer effective I’ll recommend placing Mr. Ortega in a hospice program where he can be given palliative care—pain meds, and things like that—to maximize his quality of life until the end.”

  “Holy shit,” I muttered as Lyndsey sat up, clearing her throat.

  “Yeah, I’m really sorry to have to be the one to tell you all of this.” He looked at Lyndsey in particular. She nodded, still unable to speak. “As for today’s event, his blood sugar dropped too low, it’s a common condition with pancreatic disease. So, we’re monitoring him and getting him the fluids that he needs. I’d like to keep him here overnight, at least until we’re sure how he’s doing. He’s going to sleep for several hours now. I’d suggest that you go on home and get some sleep yourselves and then come back first thing in the morning when he should be in a lot better condition for visitors.”

  The doctor stood up and I disengaged myself from Lyndsey and followed suit, shaking his hand and saying, “Thank you very much, Doctor. Thanks for letting us know.”

  Lyndsey squeezed my arm and I looked down at her. “We need to see Leesa,” she said.

  The doctor nodded. “I’ll let her know you’d like to talk to her,” he said and then he walked back through the hallways and disappeared into the depths of the hospital.

  * * *

  I waited in the downstairs lobby while Lyndsey met with Leesa. Even in the midst of what had to be the worst day of her life, Leesa had thanked me for helping with Raoul and locking up The Grill for the night. She was a tough woman, and I could tell that Lyndsey relied on her and Raoul a lot more than it seemed from the outside. It made my gut clench when I thought again about Lyndsey not having any family in her life, and now she would lose Raoul too.