by Bailey B
Logan said he had things to do and left too. He was worried the first hour or so, but then spent the rest of the time on his phone, texting. His sister is fighting for her life. And. He’s. Texting.
The only person who seems as worried as me is Mamma T. She’s a mess. Pacing back and forth. Talking to the police—who she insists I’m not ready to talk to yet—she’s right—and making various calls. Apparently, Piper doesn’t have insurance. She’s stressing about the money, trying to track down Monica to make her help with the bill. Monica’s a waste of life. I don’t need to hear their conversation to know she’s not going to contribute even a penny. I’ll tell Mamma T not to worry about it after I’m done dealing with this.
“I flew all the way here. You can’t ignore me.”
I groan, half acknowledging her existence. Why not? Isn’t that what she’s done the last eighteen years? I look up at the woman, who I’ve seen twice this year, and attempt to smile. Nothing happens. I can’t even fake being happy to see her. “Hello, Mother.”
She clutches the handle of her monstrous purse against her knee length white dress. Dark hair similar to mine, perfectly curled under a matching white hat, falls to her shoulders—longer than the last time I saw her. My mother’s a beautiful woman. I understand why my dad puts up with her antics, but I don’t see her enough to let her beauty justify her actions or lack thereof towards me.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been meaning to come visit for a few weeks now,” she says twisting the handle between her fingers. “Let’s grab a bite to eat.”
“This isn’t a fucking social call, mom!” I stand and point down the hallway. “My girlfriend’s in the fucking ICU and we aren’t allowed back yet. If you think I’m going to miss my chance at seeing her to go eat with you, you’ve lost your damn mind.”
“Rex,” Mamma T puts her hand on my shoulder. “Piper still has a few more hours of monitoring before they’re allowing visitors. Go. I’ll call if anything changes.”
“Let’s run to the house. We can’t go anywhere with you looking like that.” Mother wrinkles her nose.
I know I look like shit, probably smell like it too, but I’m not going home. Not yet. “We can eat in the cafeteria downstairs.”
“Rex, I—”
I cut her off before she can insult everyone busting their asses here. Years of overpriced dinners and self-entitled behavior has made my mother’s filter for anyone not rolling in dough nonexistent. I’m not about to have her piss someone off with her rude comments and risk them taking their anger out on Piper. I honestly don't think that would happen, but I’m not leaving anything to chance. “I’m not leaving the building. Take my offer of the cafeteria or leave.”
“If you insist.”
“Go get us a table. I’m going to the bathroom to wash my hands.” My hands are as clean as they’re going to get without a real shower, my face too. This is nothing more than an excuse. The thought of being trapped in an elevator with my mother, even for a few minutes, makes me want to puke.
I hate her. I hate her for abandoning me to a stranger when I was a kid, for never showing up at a hockey game or on my birthday. But most of all, I hate her for being here now. I don’t have the energy or the patience to deal with her bullshit.
“Rex…”
“Bye, Mother. See you there.” I take the stairs instead of the elevator to keep her waiting. When I finally make it to the basement, the cafeteria is closed. She’s sitting at a small iron table outside of an also closed gift shop with two Cokes and some chips.
“I paid the woman fifty bucks to let me buy these. She was already closing up but agreed. Here.” She pushes one of the Cokes and a bag of chips to me as I sit down. “Have you eaten anything?”
Nope. Haven’t even tried. My stomach’s been twisted in knots, worried about Piper. “Haven’t been hungry.”
She nods. “I’m sorry about your girlfriend. Will she live?”
“She better fucking live.” I’ll kill that bastard myself if she doesn’t. Speaking of bastards, where the fuck is Bane? I pull out my phone and shoot Cooper a quick text to go check on him. I find it hard to believe Bane wouldn’t be here if he knew what had happened.
“We need to talk, Son.”
I twist the cap off my Coke and take a sip. My stomach cramps, finally realizing it hasn’t had anything all day. I grab the chips and open the bag, instantly starving. “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
I crunch on the salty potatoes. They taste like heaven. I don’t normally eat this crap because of my training regimen. Even in the off season I try to eat well, only having a few beers, but never getting drunk. Right now though, I’m hungry and don’t give two shits about my diet.
“There’s no easy way to say this, but your father is cutting you off.” Mother doesn’t even bat an eye. The sentence sounds rehearsed, like I’m one of Dad’s employees she’s letting go. Do I mean that little to her that she can’t even sound remorseful?
“Excuse me?” I say with a mouthful of chips. I swallow then take a sip of my soda to clear the bits that got stuck. “You pick now of all times to tell me this shit? What the fuck mom! Why?”
She tucks her hair behind her ears. “Well, because he’s not your real father. I…I don’t know who your biological dad is.”
Another rehearsed line, with zero emotion. This is huge news. She should be crying or nervous or something, but no. Like usual, my mother has no heart, whereas mine was shattered today and now stepped on by shiny red heels. “What the literal fuck, Mom!”
“Watch your mouth! Kip may not be your father, but I’m still your mother and you will show me respect.”
I roll my eyes. She’s not my mother. My mother is back at my house doing Lord knows what because my egg donor wouldn’t let her come to me. “Whatever. So that’s it. You're here to tell me I’m fucked.”
“No, Rex. Never.” She reaches across the table for my hand. I let her touch it for a split second then pull away. “We’re giving you the house here and the one in New York. I figured you’d want a place to stay while visiting Gretchen. I’ve already given her the signed titles. They’re notarized, so all you have to do is take them to a real estate agent to finish the process.”
“How thoughtful,” I mumble.
“And you have your savings, which is more than most people have in their lifetimes. And of course if you need anything, I will always help you.”
“Good. I need something.”
“Anything.” She sounds desperate, fearful she’ll lose the fractured relationship she believes we have. At least it's something, better than the emotionless robot I had a minute ago.
“I need you to pay all of Piper’s medical bills. She doesn’t have insurance and I don’t want her to wipe me clean.”
Mother sits back in her chair, one eyebrow raised. “You really care for this girl, don’t you?”
“I love her mom. And if you love me, you’ll do this for us.”
“Us?”
How fucking dense is my she? “Yeah, us. If Piper pulls through, I plan on marrying her.”
Mother wipes a tear from her eye. She’s got this proud parent look, that she doesn’t deserve. “I’ll stop by the insurance office before I leave and put my card on file for her. She’ll probably need rehabilitation services to. Call me when your girlfriend is ready and I’ll get her into the best facility.”
I set my hand on the table, palm up. A peace offering. Mother smiles and squeezes it, then stands. “I should get going. My flight’s in a few hours.”
As pissed as I was to see my mother, we were having a moment. Our first one in I don’t know how many years. I’m kind of disappointed she’s leaving so fast. “You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah. You don’t need me here. Gretchen’s at the house. She’ll take care of you.” With a quick hug, Mother turns away. I watch her follow the signs to the payment area then make my way back to the ICU waiting room. There’s no change in Piper’
s condition. So, under the insistence of Mamma T, I head home.
31
Rex
The house smells like spiced meat, peppers, and onions when I walk in. I drop my keys on the counter and saunter over to sit at the kitchen island. I rest my head on my arms amidst the bowls of sliced peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, and cheese. Today was a disaster of epic proportions. My girlfriend is fighting for her life and I’ve been disowned by my father because I’m not actually his kid. I want a drink but refrain from making a Jack and Coke because I need to be clear headed. I can’t drive to the hospital if I’m drunk, even if it does make the pain go away.
“Ay, Dios Mio, my love. You look like death has become you.”
I lift my head. Gretchen—who only started learning Spanish last year—crosses the room and wraps her arms around me. Her tiny arms envelope me until the tears I’ve fought all day break free. She holds me until they dry up, and she keeps holding me until I finally pull away.
“It’s weird hearing you speak Spanish” I say wiping my nose with the corner of my shirt sleeve.
“And it’s weird seeing you so torn up. Are you hungry?” Her tired eyes search my face. I don’t know what she sees but she pulls me in for another hug. “I missed you after you left. That big house isn’t the same without you making messes in it.”
I try to laugh, but it’s choked on a sob. I did make messes. Huge messes with my friends. We ate everything in sight, partied like there was no tomorrow and never cleaned up. I knew Gretchen would take care of it but didn’t realize until now how fucked that was. Gretchen’s pretty much my mom, not my maid. “Sorry about all that.”
She pushes me upright and walks around the counter, fixing me two hard tacos. “Don’t be. Kids are supposed to make messes and have fun. When you get to my age, fun is watching a movie at home with a glass of wine then going to bed early.”
A memory of curling up on the couch with Piper, her falling asleep on my lap during the first movie we watched together, pops into my head. I bite my lip, forcing the tears to stay hidden, and swallow the knot in my throat. I’d trade everything, the money, my career, hell even my life to do that again with her. The thought of moving on is crippling. I don’t think I can do it. “That sounds like a good night to me.”
Gretchen slides the plate across the island to me. “She’ll be fine, Rex. Piper’s doctors know what they’re doing. She. Will. Be. Okay.”
I nod and reach for a taco. I’m not hungry anymore. Mother’s announcement was the icing on the shit cake that is today. But Gretchen has a rule, if she went through the effort to make it, then you're eating it. The shell crunches in my mouth. Tacos may seem simple, but right now, they’re the best damn tacos I’ve ever had. Hungry or not, these suckers taste amazing.
My phone dings, then dings again, and again.
Cooper: Found Bane. His dad did a number on him but he’s alive.
Cooper: Barely.
Cooper: Following the ambulance to tell the nurses everything I can.
Mamma T: Piper’s through the worst of it. They’re pulling her out of the coma soon.
I drop my taco and stand. Without saying anything I turn, crossing the kitchen in three long strides to grab my keys.
“Where are you going?” Gretchen asks dropping her dishtowel on the floor.
“They’re pulling Piper out of her coma. I’ve got to go.”
I shove my phone in my pocket and reach for the handle, but Gretchen slips her hand on it first. I forgot the woman’s a damn ninja. “No.”
“No? There is no, no. I’m going.”
“Rexroth Anthony Montgomery, you are not leaving this house.” Gretchen gives me that look, the one that says she means business and not to cross her. “You look like shit and smell even worse. Go upstairs and take a shower.”
I groan. “I don’t have time for a shower!”
“And those doctors aren’t going to let you see her like this. Look at yourself! There still flakes of dried blood in your hair. Not to mention you smell worse than your hockey bag, and that says something.”
I sniff my pits and wince. She’s right. I smell terrible. Stress sweat with no deodorant is a toxic mix. But it’s not like I was thinking about personal hygiene when I rushed out of the hotel room this morning. I hang my keys back on the hook and take a step back. “Okay.”
“Good boy.” She pats my shoulder. “You get cleaned up. I’ll pack this food in some containers. I’m sure Piper’s family hasn’t left her side and are hungry too.”
My shower takes longer than anticipated, but the warm water felt too good to leave, melting the tension from my muscles. Almost an hour passes by the time I reach the hospital again. The ICU waiting room is smaller than the surgery waiting room we were in. There’s a handful of people waiting on loved ones, but the only person around I recognize is Cooper.
“Hey, Man,” I sit in the god awful waiting room chair next to him. The fluorescent lights make Cooper’s sun-kissed skin a sickly color. I try not to think about Piper, lying unconscious, and how her ivory skin is probably comparable to a vampire’s under these lights. A vampire who drinks blood. There was so much blood. “How is she?”
He shakes his head then leans back in his seat. “I don’t know. Mom’s back there now. They took Piper off the coma drugs, but she hasn’t woken up yet.”
“What?” My voice bounces off the white walls around us, waking some lady across the room. She shushes us then attempts to go back to sleep. It’s late, if I wasn’t so stressed out, I’d be tired too. This woman has hopefully received some good news, allowing her the comfort of a good night’s sleep. I wish I was her. I hold up my hand as an apology, but I’m pretty sure she’s ignoring me. “Why not? What happened?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.” Cooper snaps. He’s irritated, and I get it. It’s been a long day, for both of us, but he doesn’t have to be a dick. He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, trying to find the same peace the lobby woman has. Good luck with that.
I get up and walk to the nurses station. A tiny blonde who looks like she still belongs in high school sits behind the counter, typing away at her computer. “Excuse me?”
She looks up, bright-eyed, with a smile. “How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if you could give me an update on Piper Lovelace?”
Her face twists together, almost apologetically. “Are you on the release form? I can’t tell you anything if you’re not.”
“I…” I scratch the back of my neck. Am I? I don’t remember filling out any paperwork, but it’s been such a long day I might have. I hope I did. “I don’t know. Can you check?”
“Sure!” This girl’s too chipper for this time of night. She needs to lay off the coffee, or maybe I need some. “What’s your name?”
“Rex Montgomery.”
She types something, each key on the keyboard clicking. “Yup, here you are. What do you want to know?”
I let out a breath of relief. Mamma T must have added me to the form knowing I’d be asking questions. Fucking woman is a saint. “Everything. Tell me everything.”
“Okay,” The nurse scrolls through Piper’s file, which feels miles long by how long she’s quiet. Finally she says, “As I’m sure you’re aware, Piper was shot in the shoulder.”
“Yup, I was there for that,” I say. The girl looks up at me, eyes wide then quickly looks at the screen again. “What else?”
“Looks like the bullet nicked an artery and she fractured her humerus. On the bright side, they were able to pull it from her subacromial space with minimal complications.”
Speak fucking English! I’m not a doctor, I don’t know what half that shit means, woman! “Why did they put her in a coma?”
“Hard to say. Probably because of all the blood she lost. I’m not a doctor, so that's just my guess. But they did pull her out of it a little over an hour ago which is a good sign.”
“How long until she wakes up?”
The nurse shakes her
head. “I don’t know. Comas are tricky. Sometimes patients come to in hours, others take days, weeks even.”
Weeks? Piper could be unconscious for weeks? I can’t go weeks without hearing her voice. It’s nowhere, not even on her voice mail. And what about graduation? Surely Principal White won’t make her repeat the whole year. What if she wakes up and forgets who I am. I saw that in a movie once. The girl had major trauma and forgot years of her life. How in the hell would I make her fall for me again? That can’t happen. Won’t happen. Piper will be fine. Everything will be fine!
The nurse reaches out, resting her hand on my arm. “Sir, are you okay?”
32
Rex
Two days. Two days of rotating shifts with Mamma T, Cooper, and Logan and Piper finally wakes up. It was the longest two days of my life. At first, I was pissed, her eyes fluttered open when Logan was in the room, not me. But I quickly got over it. As much as I would have loved to have been the first person Piper saw, I’m just glad she’s awake.
A few hours after waking up and running a million tests that required no visitors, the doctor transferred Piper to a regular room, which is great because we can all be in there with her. That one person at a time business was bullshit. I stop in the gift shop after lunch now that we’re cleared to go in and buy the biggest bouquet of flowers they have and a blue get well bear—I know how she feels about pink.
The sweet sound of Piper’s laugh carries into the hallway. I lean against the wall outside her door and listen. She and Cooper are reminiscing, with Mamma T adding her own memories. I can practically hear a smile in Piper’s voice. It’s melodical, beautiful and should be soothing my nerves, but it only makes them worse. The last time Piper and I saw each other she was trying to leave. What if that mess with Gerald was only an excuse? What if she doesn’t want to see me?