by Tawna Fenske
“Holy shit.”
He didn’t think. Just stepped back and smashed his foot right through the window. Kayla gasped as Tony stuck his arm through the jagged hole and unlocked the door.
Heart thudding in his head, he charged into the house, broken glass crunching under his shoes. He moved through the living room with blood whooshing in his ears. He was conscious of Kayla behind him, conscious of his mother lying facedown on the floor. Dropping to his knees beside her, he pressed his fingers against her throat and held his breath.
“She has a pulse,” he breathed as Kayla hit the floor beside him. “Jesus, she’s burning up.”
Kayla whipped out her phone. “I can call 911.”
“No.” He said it too abruptly, hating how she flinched. “It’ll make it worse if there’s an ambulance bill. Help me get her in the Jeep.”
She didn’t question his decision, even though he knew it might not be a good one. But there was no blood, and his smokejumper training had given him enough First Aid experience to see her neck wasn’t broken. He could get her there faster himself.
Scooping his arms under his mother, he lifted her up. She weighed almost nothing. It was like she’d been vanishing little by little in the years since he’d left.
You should have tried harder. Should have forced her to leave.
“I tried. Goddamn it, I tried.” The words slipped out without his permission, but Kayla didn’t ask questions. Just ran ahead to the Jeep, using his keys to unlock it.
“If you set her in the middle, I can brace her against my shoulder,” Kayla said, prying the door open and shifting Fireball’s crate to one side. “Careful, there’s a curb there.”
“Thanks.” He handed her gently into the back of the Jeep, grateful to Kayla for running around to the other side to help fasten the seat belt.
His mom stirred but didn’t open her eyes. “Bud,” she mumbled, brow furrowing. “Dinner’s ready soon.”
Tony cursed under his breath as he ran around to the driver’s side. Kayla was already in the backseat, pressing a damp cloth to his mom’s head. When had she grabbed that?
“We’ve got you now.” The soft murmur of Kayla’s voice was almost enough to soothe Tony’s jangled nerves. “Just rest.”
“You’ll be okay, Mom.” He started the engine, hating how the word Mom snagged in his throat. “We’re taking you to the hospital.”
This time, her eyes fluttered open. She looked around frantically, pale blue gaze unfocused. “No hospital,” she choked out, fumbling for her seat belt. “Too expensive.”
“Fuck that.” Tony gunned the engine and pulled onto the road, aiming toward the hospital. “I’ll cover it. You need a doctor.”
His mother shook her head, but her eyes had already drifted shut. She didn’t even scold him for cursing.
“Hunting,” she mumbled, and Tony thought for a second she was delirious. “Season just opened.”
“Goddamn it.” He glanced at Kayla, whose eyes were wide and fearful. “That’s Bud for you. His wife’s on death’s doorstep, and he decides it’s a good time to go elk hunting.”
“My God.” Kayla moved the cloth from his mom’s forehead to the back of her neck, murmuring words of comfort.
Tony’s heart clenched painfully as he forced his eyes back to the road and accelerated. His mother’s house was normally ten minutes from the hospital.
They made it in five.
Kayla was already unbuckling his mother’s seat belt when he came around to the passenger side. “I’ll run in and see if they have a wheelchair.”
“Stop.” His heart stalled in his chest as he caught her right hand. “What happened to your other hand?”
She glanced down at the angry stripe of blood trickling off her left thumb. “It’s just a scratch. Probably banged it on the broken glass from the door.”
If he thought he couldn’t possibly feel shittier, he’d been wrong. “We should get that looked at. You might need stitches or—”
“I’m fine, Tony.” She pulled her hand free. “Let’s focus on your mom.”
As she scurried away to find a wheelchair, his mom’s eyelids fluttered again. Her gaze fixed on him, and for the briefest instant, he saw a glimpse of the mom he remembered. The one who taught him to moonwalk in fuzzy socks across the hardwood floor. The one who tickled him ’til he fell over in the grass, laughing as Joel toddled through the flowers nearby.
“It’s me, Mom.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Tony.”
Her brow furrowed. “Bud. He’ll be so angry.”
The words sliced through his heart like a dagger. “We’re at the hospital, Mom. Let’s get you inside.”
“Too expen—”
“I said I’m paying.” The words came out in a snarl, and he ordered himself to tread more gently. For God’s sake, she was sick. “Don’t worry about the money, okay?”
She didn’t answer, which was just as well. Footsteps made him turn, and Kayla came sprinting through the door, clutching a fresh wad of gauze to her injured thumb. Behind her were two nurses, both in scrubs. The male nurse pushed a wheelchair as the female pulled on a pair of sterile gloves.
She got right up to the Jeep before Tony recognized her. “Nyla Franklin?”
“Tony?” She stepped closer, sympathy clouding her eyes. “You’re here. Leo said he’d seen your mom. She’s worse?”
He nodded and stepped aside, grateful to see his old classmate. As the two nurses got busy unloading his mother, he stepped back beside Kayla. “We went to school together,” he explained, watching as they helped his mother into the wheelchair. “Nyla’s sister, Mandi—she’s my friend Leo’s wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Nyla called over her shoulder as they hustled his mom toward the hospital doors. “You’ve been gone a while.”
“No kidding.” Tony closed his eyes, gut twisting with pain.
He’d been gone too long.
He hadn’t been gone long enough.
The memories washed through him, icy and dull, as painful as if he’d never left at all.
Chapter Eighteen
Three hours later, Kayla sat alone at Connie’s bedside.
That was the woman’s name, though Kayla wasn’t sure whether to think of her as Connie or Mrs. Glockman or Tony’s mom. The few words Kayla had heard her speak hadn’t left her with a solid impression of who the woman was or how she’d want to be addressed.
Tony was speaking privately with the doctor, so Kayla had volunteered to stay with his mom. As it turned out, Kayla’s sliced-open thumb required four stitches, which was hardly a big deal.
But Tony’s reaction was like he’d backed over Fireball before taking a flamethrower to Kayla’s camera gear. He’d fussed and worried, in between tending to his mother and dragging his hands through his hair until it stood up on end. Kayla finally ordered him out of the room so he could go confer with the medical team while she stayed with his mother.
In the time they’d been here, they’d diagnosed her with pneumonia and an acute bronchial infection. She was resting now, which was more than could be said for Tony.
That look. The one in Tony’s eyes when his mother had spoken of Bud. It wasn’t just haunted. It was a mixture of fury and betrayal and something Kayla couldn’t place but never wanted to see again as long as she lived.
“You can read to her if you want.”
Kayla turned to see the nurse—was it Nyla?—standing in the doorway. She wore pale blue scrubs and a tentative smile as she gestured at Tony’s mom.
“I saw the book sticking out of your purse.” Nyla stepped into the room, her metallic cheetah-print clogs flashing under florescent lights. “Some studies show that unconscious patients benefit from auditory stimulation.”
Kayla glanced at Tony’s mom, then back at Nyla. “I might feel awkward about that. We’ve never
even had a conversation. Besides, it’s one of those woo-woo self-help books, and I’m not sure it’d be her thing.”
“Gotcha. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Nyla moved closer and checked one of the monitors attached to a pole at Connie’s bedside. The nurse was pretty, with long, dark curls and deep blue eyes, and Kayla caught herself wondering if she and Tony had ever dated.
Then she kicked herself for being shallow at a time like this. For God’s sake, Tony’s love life should be the least of her concerns.
“Are you close with the family?” she asked as Nyla held Connie’s wrist to check her pulse.
“With Tony’s, you mean?” Nyla shrugged. “Tony is older than me, but Joel was in my grade. Tony’s brother? They had a lot of dinners at our place. Small town and all—everyone kinda knows one another.”
Kayla nodded, following along as best she could. “I guess the boys haven’t been back here much.” She tried to make it sound more like a statement than a question, but the uncertainty in her voice gave her away. “To see their mother, I mean.”
Nyla seemed to hesitate. “I can’t talk with you about a patient,” she said. “Privacy laws and all.”
“I wasn’t—”
“But I can talk with you about Tony.” She offered a small smile. “There’s a little coffee nook right outside. My shift just ended, and Tony said I was free to talk with you about—well, anything.” She gave a funny little laugh. “I’m sorry. This is coming out weird.”
Kayla smiled, charmed by the other woman’s awkward candor. “I’d love to grab coffee.” She stood up, glancing back at Tony’s mom. “It’s okay to leave her for a couple minutes?”
“More than okay. It’s good for her to rest. The monitors will alert the on-duty nurse if she needs anything.”
“Okay.” Kayla turned and followed Nyla out of the room, still trying to piece things together as they walked toward the coffee stand in the corner. Why did Tony send Nyla to talk to her?
Oh. Wait. “Did you two used to date?”
Nyla stopped with her hand on the coffeepot. “You mean Tony and me?” She laughed and shook her head. “No, not at all. He dated my sister for a few weeks in high school, but they weren’t serious or anything.”
“Oh. I see.” She didn’t, though.
Nyla poured coffee into two mugs and handed one to Kayla. “How’s your hand?” she asked.
“Fine.” Kayla glanced down at her bandaged thumb. “Throbbing a little, but it really doesn’t hurt.”
“Good.” Nyla took a deep breath. “I talk too much.” She gave a self-deprecating little laugh and gestured to the table beside the coffee station. “I don’t mean to, but I do, so the people who know me best make it a point to tell me when I should and shouldn’t blab.”
“Oh. And Tony told you to…blab?”
“Not blab, exactly. Just that it was okay to speak freely. Answer any questions you might have.”
The sentiment struck a tight, poignant chord in the center of Kayla’s chest. As she settled into a chair, Nyla took the seat beside her.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Kayla said.
“Sorry it’s not better. There’s a café downstairs that has the good stuff, but the manager closed it early today to run home and take care of her sick dog. He ate a wad of paper towels and has to have emergency surgery.”
“Yikes.” Kayla thought about her own dog. The mysterious Leo had met them outside to swoop in and take Fireball back to his place, promising to keep him fed and walked while she and Tony stayed at the hospital.
He’d vanished before she could even say thank you. Kayla was still trying to connect the dots on how everyone was related.
“You said Leo is your sister’s husb—er, ex-husband—right? And that he keeps an eye on Tony’s mom?”
“That’s right.” Nyla smiled and sipped her coffee. “He’s one of those guys who’s always looking out for everyone. Doing yard work for elderly folks or grabbing groceries for someone in a wheelchair. That sort of thing.”
“I can see why he and Tony would be friends,” Kayla said. “The whole kindhearted-hero thing.”
“Right?” Nyla smiled, but the smile seemed to dim as she continued. “He hasn’t minded doing it. Leo, I mean. If Tony’s worried about that, he shouldn’t be. We all understood why Tony couldn’t stay here. Why he needed to get out.”
Kayla nodded, not understanding herself. “What do you mean?”
Nyla nibbled the edge of her lip, considering her words carefully. “Sorry, I maybe shouldn’t have said that.”
“You did say Tony encouraged you to speak freely.”
“Right, that’s true.” Relief washed over Nyla’s face, and she took another sip of coffee. “He tried so many times to help his mom get away. To leave her marriage, leave town—just leave. But it’s not as easy as you’d think.”
“Bud, you mean?”
“Yeah.” Nyla glanced toward the hospital room, but they were far enough out of earshot not to matter. “I take it you haven’t met him?”
Kayla shook her head. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Nyla grimaced, though she seemed to fight it. “He’s…different.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t say more. We’re veering back into patient-confidentiality territory.”
“I understand.” She rolled her cup between her hands, warming her fingertips. “Did you know Tony’s father?”
She shook her head. “He was long gone before I met Joel and Tony.”
“I see.” Kayla tried to recall how old Tony had been when his dad left. Young—maybe four or five? “Do you have both your parents?”
Nyla nodded, looking relieved to be stepping out of the minefield of patient confidentiality. “They’ve been together for like a bazillion years, and they’re too adorable for words.”
“That’s great.” Kayla smiled. “Mine, too. Sometimes I wonder if having parents with this beautiful, textbook-perfect marriage maybe set me up to expect too much. Like maybe that’s why I’m still single.”
Nyla cocked her head, considering. “I never really thought about that.” She smiled as she caught Kayla glancing at her ring finger. “I’m not married, either.”
“Do you want to be?” She shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get too personal.”
“No, it’s okay.” Nyla shrugged and sipped her coffee. “I’d like to get married eventually. I was engaged once, but it didn’t work out.”
“I feel ya. Not the engagement, but the relationships that never really work out. All my sisters are married with kids, but I can’t seem to get there myself.”
She thought about her conversation with Tony in the bathroom. The things he’d said to her before his phone rang.
I love you.
I want you to know I could get there. With you, I mean.
Had he meant it?
“Dating’s hard.” Nyla said. “And family dynamics make it even harder.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
Nyla’s gaze flickered over Kayla’s shoulder and brightened. “Tony. Hey, buddy.”
Kayla felt him behind her, felt the warmth rippling up her arms. She turned to look at him, searching his face for clues how he was feeling. Fatigue pulled at the muscles around his mouth, making him look older than he ever had. His eyes met hers before dropping to her injured thumb.
“I’m so sorry.” His jaw clenched, and Kayla slipped her hand under the table and out of sight.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, hating the tortured look in his eyes as he lowered himself into the chair beside her.
She nudged her coffee cup in front of him. “You look like you need this more than me.”
“Thanks.” He took a sip and glanced at Nyla. “Is she resting okay?”
“Fast asleep.” Nyla’s e
yes darted between them. “Kayla and I were talking about your family situation. I know you said it was okay to share, but I felt weird saying too much.”
Tony smiled fondly and looked at Kayla. “There’s a saying around here that if you want something shared and you don’t know how to say it yourself, tell Nyla Franklin.”
“Hey.” Nyla laughed and swatted his arm. “Not wrong, but also not nice.”
“We love you for it,” he assured her, turning back to Kayla. “I felt bad leaving you alone and figured you could use someone to help bring you up to speed.”
“I appreciate that. Did your meeting with the doctor go okay?”
Tony’s brow furrowed. “Yeah. He thinks she’ll be fine but that she should have come in days ago.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to catch his meaning. If Bud had just left town, he damn well should have known his wife was in trouble. “How long will she be here?”
“A couple days, at least,” Tony said. “They need to get more fluids into her. And she needs rest.”
Nyla set her cup down. “She’ll be in great hands. The nurses in this wing are outstanding.”
“Present company included,” Tony said. “Thanks again for looking out for her.”
“Don’t mention it.” Nyla polished off the last of her coffee and stood. “I’d better run. Family dinner. If you need a hot meal or a place to crash, you’ve got my number.”
“Thanks.” Tony stood to give her a hug, and Kayla stood, too. “We’ll probably just eat something in the cafeteria.”
“I appreciate you keeping me company,” Kayla said, hugging Nyla herself. “And filling me in about the situation.”
“No problem.” Nyla turned. “Take care.”
They watched her walk off down the hall. Tony was silent, jaw tight with tension. Kayla waited, not sure how to act. Should she hug him or take his hand or keep a professional distance?
When his gaze swung back to her, the exhaustion in his eyes had multiplied. “Are you hungry?”