“Look on the bright side, man,” Jason said. “How bad could it be if she had them call you? I mean, I’m sure if it was really bad they would have called her family.”
My stomach clenched. Jason’s words felt like I’d been hit by a bucket of ice-cold water, immediately dulling my rage. I was all Nola had. No matter what, I couldn’t break down.
I shook my head solemnly. “Nah man, she’s on her own.”
“Where are her parents?”
“Her father died, and her mother…” I thought about it for a second, Nola had never actually said where her mother lived, only that she didn’t care if her daughter was alive or dead. “She’s in the wind, man. She doesn’t have anybody but me.”
“Damn.” Jason shook his head. “Listen, I’m gonna go grab my shit and I’ll roll with you. Don’t leave, okay?”
Before I could answer, the valet brought my car. “It’s cool, Jay. Both of us can’t ditch Fernando. Besides, by the time you run upstairs and get back down here I’ll be halfway to the hospital.”
“You sure, man? I don’t want to have to bail your ass out of jail tonight.”
I bobbed my head thankful Jason always had my back. “I’m sure. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”
“Alright, Scout. Go see about your girl.”
I had never driven through the streets of L.A. so fast in my life. I burned through yellow lights, ran a few reds, and got to the hospital in under 10 minutes. I dropped my car in the parking lot and ran into the emergency room hoping for the best, but expecting the worse.
I rushed to the check-in desk and was met by an elderly woman with tired eyes. She stared at me over her glasses. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I got a call from someone at the hospital about my…” my voice trailed off and I tried to figure out what exactly Nola was. My friend? My girl? My future?
“What’s the patient’s name?”
“Nola. Nola Chambers,” I said, watching the woman’s fingers move across the keyboard.
“She was brought in a little over hour ago,” the woman said, and I winced. An hour ago? “And you are?” She looked at me, her eyes scanning the tattoos crisscrossing my forearms.
I exhaled, emotionally and physically exhausted and on the verge of losing it. I didn’t want to deal with this woman’s bullshit judgments about my appearance, but I couldn’t let it stop me from seeing Nola.
“Her boyfriend, ma’am,” I said as politely as I could through gritted teeth. “I’m her boyfriend.”
The woman pursed her lips. “And are her parents with you?” she asked, still sizing me up.
I rubbed my temples, trying to keep my composure. Nola had clearly told them to call me, but this old lady was giving me shit because of the way I looked. I couldn’t believe it.
“They’re dead ma’am.”
“I see,” she said, pausing to look me over again. “Follow the yellow line through the double doors. It’ll take you to the nurses’ station and they’ll show you to her room.”
“Thank you,” I breathed and sped through the corridor, straining to keep myself from freaking out. My palms were sweaty, my head pounded, and my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. No matter what happened, I told myself I’d be there for Nola and make sure she had everything she needed.
When I reached the nurses’ station I spotted a trio of women dressed in colorful scrubs hovering over a computer. I cleared my throat, startling the women who seemed caught off guard.
“Umm, hi, I’m looking for my girlfriend’s room. The woman in the front said you could point me in the right direction.”
“Sure, honey,” the middle-aged blonde said, her mouth turning up into a sympathetic smile. “What’s her name?”
“Nola Chambers. She was brought in about an hour ago.”
“Ahh, yes. I was here when she was admitted. She’s in 14B. You must be Scout, right? She was asking for you when they brought her in,” the woman said.
I let out a massive rush of air. “So she’s okay? They didn’t tell me anything over the phone and I’ve been so worried…” my voice cracked, surprising the shit out of me. I hadn’t cried in more than a dozen years, but I could feel a swell of tears waiting to flood my eyes.
“Well, we’re still waiting on a few test results, but you can go on back and see her,” she said with a warm smile.
I nodded and trudged down the hallway, counting the numbers of the doors I passed until I got to Nola’s room. When I reached her doorway, I paused to steady myself and say another quick prayer. I hadn’t been to a church since I was 10 and my mother was in AA struggling with her first step, but I hoped God still listened. If not for me, then for Nola.
I entered the room and my heart dropped into my shoes. Nola was laying in the bed with her eyes closed and her arm hooked up to a monitor. There was a bandage on her head and another on her arm, and a machine whirled and beeped, making me even more scared. I walked to her side, and stared at her. She looked peaceful, but vulnerable in a way that made me uncomfortable. I wanted to take her in my arms and hug her to my chest, but I didn’t know if I should move her or not. Instead, I pushed a curl out of her face and kissed her forehead.
Nola startled and her eyes shot open. “Scout?”
I bit back tears. She was still so fucking beautiful, and I wanted to cover her mouth with mine. “Yeah, baby, I’m here.”
Nola reached for her head and winced. “I look that bad, huh?” She tried to smile, but the pain wouldn’t let her.
“No. Gorgeous as ever.”
“Yeah, right,” she managed a small chuckle, then her expression changed. “There was blood everywhere...” Nola closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what, baby? You have nothing to apologize for.”
“The party,” she said, her voice hoarse and strained. “You were with your friends and I…I made you leave and messed up your night.”
“Shhh, don’t worry about that. I wanted to be with you anyway, baby. What happened?”
“I fell.”
“At work?” I asked, gently stroking her palm.
“No…” Nola looked away like she was embarrassed, “On the bus.”
“The bus? What the hell were you doing on the bus? I thought you were getting a ride.”
“Don’t be mad, Scout, okay?” Her eyes were pleading with me, but I was pissed. Not at Nola, but at myself. I should have been there to pick her up from work, not suffering through an unwanted lap dance from an overzealous stripper. “Tara had to leave early and I was going to call a cab, but then I heard the bus coming, so I just jumped on it.” She gazed at me again. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said kissing her fingers, “I could never be mad at you.” Nola still looked doubtful, so I leaned over and tipped her chin in my direction. “Okay?”
She nodded.
I took another breath. I wanted to know every single detail about Nola’s accident, but I was afraid it would make me feel even guiltier for not being there for her.
“How did you fall?”
“About halfway home my heart began pounding out of control and I started to feel really lightheaded. When I stood up to get off at my stop I fainted. Apparently, I hit my head on the corner of the bus seat and was out of it until the ambulance came. The doctor says I have a concussion, but they don’t know how severe it is yet. They ran some tests as soon as I got here, but I’m still waiting on the results.”
Nola’s words detonated in my brain. She needed me and I wasn’t there. Fuck!
“This is all my fault.”
“What?” she gasped. “Scout, this isn’t your fault at all. How could you even think that?”
“If I would’ve been there…” I put my head to her chest and cried. It was like a valve had been opened and all of the anguish I’d been holding onto over the years came gushing out. I cried for the little boy who didn’t feel important enough to his parents; I cried for the young man
who’d spent most of his life consumed with rage; and I cried for the woman I’d fallen for, but couldn’t keep safe.
“If I would’ve been there this wouldn’t have happened, Nola. I fucked up.”
The one thing I wanted to do more than anything else was look after her, and I had failed, miserably. I’d do anything to make it up to her.
“Scout…” Nola brought my face to hers, leaving only wisps of space between us. “This isn’t your fault, okay? This is my fault. Mine.”
She was trying so hard to convince me that I hadn’t fucked up, but I knew better. If I had just gone with my gut and picked her up from work like I planned she wouldn’t have ended up in a hospital bed. Nola was trying to make me feel better, but I knew the truth.
“Scout, do you hear me?” she said, dragging me out of my thoughts. “This isn’t your fault. I was so stupid. I should have known better, but I was just so exhausted I got desperate.” She shook her head and tears flooded her eyes. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Nola said, admonishing herself. “I should have known…”
Nola started to sob and it broke me opened; I didn’t know what the hell to do. I rubbed her back and tried to console her the best I could, but Nola’s tears ripped at my heart.
“Shhhh, baby, calm down. It’s not your fault, okay? You’ve been working like crazy and your body just couldn’t take it anymore.” I kissed her forehead and tried to get her to calm down. “Nola, you’re going to be okay, you hear me? We’re in this together, baby, remember? Everything will be fine. I’ll never let you down again.”
17 Nola
“Wake up sleepyhead.”
I opened my eyes to see Scout leaning over me stroking my face. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep, but the room was fairly dark. Scout looked different than the last time I saw him. He’d changed out of his jeans and polo shirt and was sporting a pair of sweats and a tank top that showed off his muscular arms.
I had pictured Scout naked more times than I would care to admit, but the real thing—well, at least what I saw anyway—was way, way better. Scout’s biceps looked like they’d been chiseled out of a chunk of stone, and his pecks flexed under the opaque fabric while he talked.
“Hey...how long have I been out?” I glanced out of the giant French doors and caught a glimpse of the orange sky, but I couldn’t tell if it was dusk or dawn.
“A couple of hours,” Scout said, cupping the side of my face with his rough hands. “How are you feeling?”
I struggled to sit up, my head still throbbing from the gash to my forehead. According to the nurse at the hospital, I’d caught the side of the bus seat and opened up a cut that needed four stiches to close.
“I’m okay, my head hurts, though. I think I need the nurse to bring me some Tylenol or something.”
“Okay. Be right back,” Scout said before dashing out of the room.
I relaxed back onto the pillow, enjoying the way it felt beneath my head. I pulled the colorful duvet up around my chest and snuggled further into the bed, and then it hit me: I wasn’t at the hospital anymore.
“Scout,” I attempted to yell but my voice felt like it got mangled in my throat. I tried again, taking in a breath before I called him. “Scout!”
He raced into the room, panicked. “What? You okay? Need me to call the doctor?”
“No, I’m fine…but where am I?”
His eyebrows knitted in concern. “You forgot?”
I looked around the large room trying to latch onto something that would jog my memory, but I came up blank. Nothing in the space looked familiar.
“I….I don’t know. I know we’re not at the hospital, but…” I paused, gazing at the mahogany dresser, ornate mirror, and seafoam blue walls. “Where are we?”
He sighed and stroked my hand. “Home.”
“Home?” I asked, perplexed. “But I don’t live here.”
“I do, Nola. This is my home.”
I glanced around again. There were no leather couches, oversized TVs, or stripper poles in sight. The room was well appointed and looked like it had been professionally designed; a far cry from the stereotypical bachelor pad I figured Scout lived in.
“Your house?” I asked even though he just told me where we were. “Why am I at your house?”
“The doctor said I needed to check on you every couple of hours for the next two days to make sure you don’t lose consciousness. He also said you need to take it easy for the rest of the week,” Scout shrugged, “so I brought you here.”
I sat up a bit too quickly and immediately regretted it; my head felt like it was going to explode.
“Do you have any Tylenol?”
“Yeah, here.” Scout pulled a small bottle out of his pocket and shook out a couple of pills, then handed me some water.
I took the pain meds, settled back on the pillow, and closed my eyes.
Eventually, the pain subsided and I took another peek at my surroundings. Scout was lying on a pillow next to me looking completely at ease. I needed to pee, so I got up to find the bathroom. I stumbled into an expansive walk-in closet that was bigger than my living room before finally locating the facilities.
When I was done, I splashed water on my face and tried to figure out what time it was. There wasn’t a clock in the bathroom or the bedroom, so I ambled down the hall and descended the stairs into an oversized great room. There was a gigantic marbled fireplace on one wall, a row of windows on the other, and the most beautiful view I’d ever seen.
Almost instinctively I drifted toward the glass, mesmerized by the auburn-colored sky. I unlocked one of the sliding doors and wandered out onto the patio and into the grass, watching the sun as it dipped lower over the horizon. I hugged myself as the cool air prickled my skin and I noticed I was only wearing an oversized t-shirt that skimmed the tops of my thighs. Still, I didn’t go back inside. It had been months, maybe even years since I’d stopped to watch a sunset; it held too many memories of the times my dad and I would wake up and marvel at the sun.
I missed my father dearly. I missed giggling with him over cartoons; I missed watching him dance with my mother; I missed eating his freshly cooked fried plantains. A day rarely went by that I didn’t think about something he said or did or how he made me feel when I was a little girl. It was always the smallest things that triggered his memory. A few notes of a Bob Marley tune, a man dribbling a soccer ball, the smell of freshly lit weed. I’d spent the last few years trying to avoid anything that reminded me of my father, but somehow, no matter how hard I tried, he was always right there.
Maybe that’s why my mother was so restless. She’d spent a dozen years tagging along with my father around the world, watching him perform in tiny towns and rickety bars all over the globe. There were few placed they hadn’t gone, so getting away from his memory no doubt proved impossible. But she kept trying, dragging me along for the chaotic journey that did little to heal my broken heart and everything to shatter it even more.
“Nola?” Scout appeared at my back, surprising me. “What are you doing out here, baby?”
“Just...thinking.”
“Come inside, you’re gonna get sick.”
“I will, but I want to watch the sunset first.”
“But you’re shivering,” he said, running his hand along my arm. “We should go inside.”
“In a minute, okay? It looks so…beautiful.”
Scout wrapped his arms around me and I leaned into his warmth, feeling a familiar sensation radiating through my body. It seemed impossible, but even though I’d only known Scout for a short while I felt completely at ease with him, like I’d known him forever, like he was home. The whole scene made me feel nostalgic.
“My dad and I used to do this, you know. When we were down at our house in Saint. Ann’s, he’d wake me up super early in the morning to watch the sunrise.” I thought about the last time I’d seen my father alive. He was tucking me in for the night and promising to see me in the morning. “Those were the best times of my life.
”
Scout kissed the top of my head and I nestled further into him. “This is the first time I’ve actually watched a sunset.”
“Seriously? Ever?”
“Yeah. I guess I never really slowed down long enough to pay attention.” Scout tightened his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder. “But you’re right, this is beautiful.”
We stood there until darkness fell around us and the sky filled up with stars. Scout rubbed my arms to keep my warm, but he didn’t try to get me to go inside. As I watched the city twinkle below, I suddenly realized I’d been there before.
“The party,” I turned to face him, “this is the same house from the cocktail party. You live here?”
Scout nodded, but didn’t say a word.
“So, you’re…rich?” The word tumbled off my tongue like an accusation.
He studied my face. “You could say that.”
“Wow,” I said, wondering why a guy like Scout—a rich, gorgeous, hunk of a man who could have any woman in the world—was standing there with me.
It couldn’t be my looks; I was cute but unremarkable, and probably a far cry from the women he was used to. And I wasn’t glamorous, or wealthy, or well heeled like most of the sought-after women in L.A.
I could never understand why Scout lavished so much attention on me until that moment.
“Wow…” I said again, breaking away from his embrace. “I can’t believe this.”
I rushed into the house and began making my way up the stairs, gobsmacked by the realization.
How could I not see why Scout was being so nice to me? How could I not figure out why he’d always offer to pay for things, or why he’d given me a huge tip the first time he came into the restaurant, or why he was always being so kind? How did I miss the signs? Scout was a standup guy who’d grown up dirt poor and somehow made it rich, now he was paying it forward.
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