“Harper!” Behind me I heard Molly’s voice.
“Ignore her,” Andrew said against my cheek.
“Harper!”
I stepped from Andrew as Molly broke through the slow dancers, bearing toward us, waving my cell phone.
“You have a text,” Molly said.
Andrew had the good grace to laugh. “Seriously?”
“I’m kind of busy,” I said. “I’ll check it later.”
She shook her head. “It’s Ridley.”
Andrew tensed beside me. “I’ll talk to him later.”
“Your phone was on the table and it kept ringing. Then when it beeped with a text, I picked it up to check it. Here.”
Emmie’s burning up with fever. Tried everything to get it down. No idea what to do. Call me.
“I need to call Ridley,” I said. “I’ll be back.”
Andrew’s face as I walked away reminded me of an angry grizzly, but all I could think about was Emmie. Ridley must be worried out of his mind.
Ignoring the warnings of two parent chaperones, I walked outside where I pulled up Ridley’s number and called.
He answered on the third ring.
“Ridley? What’s going on?”
“Are you home?”
“No. I’m at the dance.”
I heard his muffled curse. “I forgot. I’m sorry. Have a good time.”
“No, wait! Is Emmie okay?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“I wouldn’t have called if I’d remembered the stupid band dance. I just . . . I just didn’t know what else to do. I’ve been with her all day, doing everything I was supposed to. And the fever’s not budging. My mom hasn’t been around. I’d thought you could ask your mother what to do. I think I need to take her to the emergency room.”
“What’s Emmie’s fever—”
“A hundred and four.”
“I’ll grab my dad and be there in fifteen minutes.” Grab my dad? Where had that come from?
“Don’t be crazy. Stay at the dance. I’ll handle this myself.”
Like he did everything else. “See you soon.”
“Do not leave that dance or—”
I ended the call and made another to my mom. But it was my dad who picked up, as if he’d known I’d thought of him first.
“What’s wrong?”
I filled him in, my stress decreasing. He would take care of it. I knew it.
“Your mom’s out with some friends. I’ll be right there, Harper.”
When I turned to go back inside, Andrew stood at the door, his face bathed in the overhead light, his hands shoved in the pockets of his dark slacks. The autumn night air stirred, blowing Andrew’s hair across his frowning forehead.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I have to go.”
“Ridley.”
“His baby sister is very sick. He can’t find his mom.”
“So he needs you to take care of it?”
“He’s a friend, and he’s scared.” Andrew had no idea what it was like to be on your own, to need a parent, but not have one who clocked in for the job.
“We still have the bonfire.”
“My dad’s on the way.”
“I could’ve taken you home.”
“No, I want you to stay.”
“You’re the only reason I’m here.”
A pinprick right to my heart. “I’m sorry.”
Andrew reached for my hand, warmed it in both of his, and gave a mirthless laugh. “From dogs to people, saving is just what you do, isn’t it?”
I didn’t know if that was a quality he liked or one he wished I’d overcome. “I had a great time.”
He leaned in and kissed my cold cheek. “Call me later.”
I had just ditched my new boyfriend.
To be with Ridley Estes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Tell me again why you’re leaving your date to go help Ridley Estes?” Dad turned onto Cherry Street and into Ridley’s neighborhood.
“Because his sister—”
“I get that his sister needs help. But why you?” Dad pulled into the drive of the little gray house. “Where’s Ridley’s mother?”
“She’s out of pocket.”
Dad turned off the car and just looked at me. If he had any more questions about Ridley’s mom, he kept them to himself.
I had no more opened my car door than Ridley met us on the porch. He wore a black T-shirt, half-untucked, jeans with a stain of something on the thigh, and dark circles beneath his haunted eyes. In his arms he held his baby sister, who rested against him like a limp doll.
“Hello, Ridley,” Dad said.
“Coach O’Malley.”
“Look at this sweet girl.” Dad pressed his hand to Emmie’s red cheek. “You’re going to be just fine. We’ll get you better in no time.” His voice remained gentle, the same tone I heard whispered over me in the hospital years ago—calm, reassuring, safe. Dad turned his attention to Ridley. “What’s her temp now?”
“Still a hundred and four. Has been for most of the day.”
“Is she drinking anything?”
“No.”
With a frown, Dad tilted his head and inspected Emmie. “Tell me what you’ve tried.”
“Everything. Cold baths, meds, rubbed alcohol at the bottom of her feet.”
“Alcohol?” I asked.
“Old remedy,” Dad said. “You’ve done a good job, Ridley.”
“She’s just lifeless.” The self-assured football hero was gone. In his place stood a brother whose voice held a tremor of fear, his face etched with lines of frustration, alarm. “This isn’t like her. Normally she can’t sit still. Her eyes are so vacant.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I said. An overwhelming urge to wrap Ridley in my arms pulsed through me, foreign and strong. Me, who barely tolerated hugs. And now I just wanted to draw Ridley and Emmie near and take some of that pain.
“I think we need to get her to the ER,” Dad said.
“Where’s Faith?” I asked.
“At a friend’s.” Ridley pressed a kiss to his sister’s hair. “If my mom has insurance on the girls, I can’t find it. What if they won’t see us?”
“A doctor will see your sister,” Dad said. “I’ll make sure of it. Don’t worry about the cost.”
“I’ll pay you back,” Ridley said.
“No need.”
“I will pay you back.”
Dad hesitated for only a moment. “If that’s how you want it. We should probably go.”
We moved the car seat to my Dad’s truck then flew to the hospital. Ridley sat in the back with Emmie, his hand caressing her hair, her little hands. He spoke to her in hushed croons, the passing streetlights revealing the shadows of fear on his face.
The wheels of the truck seemed to barely spin as the minutes yawned along the ten long miles to St. Vincent’s Hospital. I took a deep yoga breath as we finally arrived, and Dad pulled up to the sliding front doors.
Ridley already had Emmie out of the car seat, and he covered her head with her pink blanket to block the wind and rush her inside.
“I’ll see you in there, Dad.” I followed Ridley.
A woman at the front desk quizzed Ridley about the whereabouts of Emmie’s legal guardian. The lady had to be as tall as Ridley’s six feet, though her shoulders could’ve been twice as wide. She had a hint of a mustache above her top lip, and I had a feeling she had missed her true calling of wrestling or operating heavy machinery.
“My mom’s out of town. I can’t get hold of her.”
“I have paperwork I need her to sign.”
“I’m Emmie’s brother.”
“And I’m the receptionist. Neither one of us is this baby’s mama.”
“Just give me the paperwork,” Ridley said. “She needs a doctor now.”
She harrumphed but slid over a clipboard. “Fill this out.”
“When can a doctor see Emmie?” R
idley asked.
“There’s a long line of folks ahead of you. It’s probably gonna be a while. So take my clipboard, your baby sister, and go sit down. We have a lovely selection of magazines for you to peruse while you wait.”
I sat in a navy chair and watched Ridley scribble the info onto the form. “Do you want me to take her?” He could barely write for holding Emmie.
“No.” He filled in three more lines, then put down his pen, his gaze finding mine. “Thank you.”
I slowly smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t mean for you to do this.”
“I care about her too.” And you.
“I didn’t know who to call.”
“I’m glad you called me.”
He twisted the cap on his pen. “I’m sorry I ruined your date.”
“I wanted to be here.” He watched me closely, and I wondered what was going through that head of his. I reached over the chair arm and placed my hand on his. “She’s going to be okay.”
He watched our joined hands. “She has to be. If anything happens to her—”
“It won’t.”
“Why are you still in the waiting room?” Dad asked, appearing beside me like an angel ready to do battle.
“Secretary Smiley said there’s a wait,” I said.
“I’ll take care of this.” Dad disappeared as fast as he arrived, beelining toward the front desk. The woman’s eyes widened, and I knew the second she recognized the infamous Coach O’Malley. This was either going to go very badly, or Ridley was going to get the St. Vincent’s version of first class.
Whatever Dad and the lady discussed, it involved lots of hand motions on her part. Finally, the woman waddled over to us. “Exam room four. Follow me.”
Ridley scooped up a whining Emmie and let the receptionist lead the way.
Dad plopped down beside me in the seat Ridley had just vacated.
“Thank you,” I said.
He slid lower in the seat and leaned his head back. “Want to tell me the real story on his mom?”
I could’ve lied, but I didn’t. “No.”
“I assume that kid takes care of his sisters?”
Dad probably couldn’t know the depth of that statement. “Ridley chose USK because it was the number one football program,” I said. “But also because it’s important he’s near his family.”
Dad pulled a pack of gum from the pocket of his track pants and held it toward me. “How long’s he been the man of the house?”
“I think forever.”
“What happens to his sisters if he moves to a different college?”
I looked toward the metal doors that Ridley had carried a pale Emmie through. “He’s going to make sure they never find out.”
An hour later, Emmie was admitted to the hospital. The children’s wing was decorated with brightly colored zoo animals, but it did nothing to cheer up Ridley.
“Emmie has a virus,” the doctor explained after they settled her in a room the color of butter. “Probably the strand of crud that’s been going around.” He pointed to the IV that was connected to her tiny arm. “She just got dehydrated. It’s more common than you’d think. You did the right thing bringing her in.”
“How long until she feels better?” Ridley asked, staring down at his sister sleeping in the bed.
“We’ll watch her tonight, see how she feels in the morning. Fever ought to break anytime now.”
The doctor gave Ridley some final instructions, shook my dad’s hand, then left.
Dad, Ridley, and I stood around Emmie’s bed. Her cheeks were no longer as pink, and her little forehead no longer pulled into a frown.
Ridley checked his phone, only to stuff it right back in his pocket. His mother still had not checked in. This was too much for someone Ridley’s age to deal with, and it angered me that his mom was so absent.
“Do you need anything?” Dad asked.
“No,” Ridley said. “I’ll stay here with Emmie. We have all we need. But I’m grateful for your help.”
“I’m just glad the doctor was an Eagle fan,” Dad said. “If he was an Aggie, we’d still be in the waiting room this time tomorrow.” Dad glanced at his sports watch. “Sis, it’s after one. You ready to go?”
I looked at Ridley. Then back at my Dad. “I . . . I think I’ll stay here too.” Dad started to protest. “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Trust me.”
“You can stay for a few hours.” He reached for a strand of my hair and gave it a small tug. “Call me when you’re ready to come home. I’ll be right here.”
I’ll be right here.
I didn’t know whether it was from the fatigue or my dad’s words, but my eyes misted, and I had to look away.
“Anything else you need?” Dad asked Ridley.
“I hate to ask, but I left the house open. Any chance you could swing by and lock up? I don’t exactly live in the safest neighborhood.”
“Consider it done.” Dad gave Emmie one more assessing peek, an atta girl wink to me, then shut the door behind him.
A faint light radiated through the room, as if bathing it in moonlight. The sounds of beeps and hisses from far away filled the silence as Ridley and I had nothing to say for the next half hour. He just sat in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, and watched his sister sleep.
And I watched him. His body became so still, I thought he had fallen asleep. Until I heard his voice.
“Sometimes I have this dream.” His words sounded hoarse, raw. “I dream that something’s coming for Faith and Emmie. It’s dark and big, and I don’t know what it is. But I can’t get to them in time.” He tunneled his hands through his hair. “I wake up in a sweat. Sometimes I go check on them, just to reassure myself they’re still there, they’re okay.”
My throat thickened. “You’d never let anything happen to them.”
“You’re right, though—I can’t always be there. You have no idea how that thought chills me. I’d die without those two.”
I slid my hand up his back, felt the warmth there, the strength beneath my fingers. “They’re lucky to have you.”
“I think about what you said a lot. That I can’t keep pretending to be the parent. But Harper, it’s all I’ve known. And the thought of them split up, or living with some other family— without me.” He lifted anguished eyes to mine. “That’s worse than any nightmare I’ve ever had.”
My hand fell back to the armrest, and he reached for it. Pressed my palm to his cheek and leaned into it. My heart swelled and gravitated within my chest. My feelings for Ridley . . . I feared they were shifting and morphing into something I couldn’t tame. And that couldn’t happen. He was a friend. That’s all we could be. I had sworn my romantic allegiance to Andrew. And I couldn’t let someone so undeniably wrong for me get in the way of that.
I let my hand drop back to my lap, studied my fingernails, wondered why I felt saddened by the loss of my skin on his.
“Did Levin kiss you tonight?” His question could barely be heard above the drip of the IV, the faraway blare of an alarm.
“Yes.”
Ridley slowly nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Was it everything you hoped for?”
No.
It was night to Ridley’s day, moon to Ridley’s sun. A small fuse to the liquid lightning that had been Ridley’s mouth on mine. But this boy was out of my league.
And maybe I was out of his.
“I think,” I said, “it was all that I needed.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A bolt of lightning crashed into the tree outside my window. I coughed as the smoke filled my lungs and my eyes watered with the sting. In vain, I banged on the door, but no one was coming. The door was warm to the touch, and I quickly moved away.
“Help me!” I yelled. “Someone help me!” But there was no use. The rain fell in torrents, but somehow the fire raged on. I was trapped in my house.
Alone.
I would die alone.
“No!”
I sat straight up in bed, my panting breaths barely audible above the storm blowing outside. A tree scratched against my window, and I clutched my pillow to my chest, tears streaming down my face, desperately trying to bring the room, my mind in focus.
I was safe. In the O’Malleys’ house.
And I wasn’t ten.
Sweat dotted my forehead, and I crashed back into my pillows as thunder shook my walls.
I was so tired of this. Tired of never knowing when my past would reach out and tap me on the shoulder, whispering memories in my ear like a phantom enemy.
My bedside clock read six a.m., and I knew it was no use trying to go back to sleep, though my head ached and swelled with fatigue.
I had lain down mere hours ago. Taking up my dad’s offer, I had called him at three in the morning to pick me up from the hospital. Ridley’s mother had never shown, but Emmie had stabilized, improved even, and Ridley had finally convinced me to go home.
The weird thing was, as draining and frightening as last night had been, I’d had fun. With Emmie sleeping soundly, Ridley and I had watched old movies on TV before breaking out a pack of cards someone had left in a bedside drawer. I’d taught Ridley gin rummy, despite his initial request to play strip poker. He’d made me laugh, and we’d talked for long stretches of time before falling into a comfortable silence. The kind that didn’t poke at you to fill it.
I’d sent Andrew a text last night, but he’d yet to respond. I would deal with him later.
I brushed my teeth and threw on a sweatshirt and pajama bottoms before trudging downstairs. My stomach hadn’t awakened yet, so I skipped breakfast and mopped the kitchen floor instead. Grabbing a feather duster, I walked down the long hall, trying to find something peaceful about the sound of the falling rain.
I swept the duster over the black frames that held our family pictures. Dad with his arms around a smiling Mom. The five of us all in white linen shirts on the beach in Gulf Shores. Cole and Michael’s baby picture. A black-and-white of my adoption day.
“Cristy?”
I jumped as Dad’s voice came from his office at the end of the hall.
“It’s me.” I stepped inside his man cave, a room that both fascinated me and made me long for the Pottery Barn fairy to have her wicked, girly way with every wall.
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