Expired Regrets

by Megan C. Smith

  “No! Don’t be silly! It’s been years since…” I could hear my voice falter as the memories flooded me. I shook my head lightly to clear the thoughts. “…since everything. He’s Grant’s childhood friend. I expected he would be there.”

  If he didn’t abandon you, too.

  I put on my best smile and took a bite of my dinner to justify the silence. After dinner, we headed back to the apartment to get to bed, since they were leaving early the next morning.

  ****

  Tallahassee was awfully lonely now that Leslie had left and Jordan was leaving. The last week had been completely miserable. My phone rang with the tune of “Bridal March.”

  “Hey, Les, what’s up? FYI, I can’t wait till you’re married, and I can change the ringtone you set,” I said with a chuckle at the memory of her insisting I change it.

  “Yeah, Yeah…” She snickered back at me. “Anyway. How are you doing? I miss you!”

  “I know I miss you, too. It’s so lonely here without you dragging me out of the apartment and no homework to do.”

  “So have you heard back from those schools about the positions you applied for?” she asked, cutting me off.

  I sighed. Leave it to Leslie to bring up the very thing I’d been trying to not think about. They’d had said it’d be a few weeks, but I was going crazy with the wait.

  “I’ll take your delayed response as a no.”

  Damn, she can be a pain in the ass. I laughed, loving her even if she knew me too well.

  “So! I was thinking!” She sounded a little antsy.

  Oh, Lord — NEVER a good sign!

  “What did you do, Les?”

  “I ran into your mom and mentioned you’d be here—”

  “Leslie Anne McMillan!”

  “I know — you’re mad. Get over it. She misses you, too, you know! I told her you were coming down next weekend, and she said she’d pay for some extra days at the hotel if you came sooner, have some more bonding time. Plus, I really need my maid of honor here. Things are a bit hectic for me all alone.” She whined a bit more with each word, knowing I was horrible at saying no.

  “I’m not staying at the house, Les, I can’t”

  “She knows — and totally understands. You can stay with Grant and me or the hotel. Your choice.”

  “Is Tallahassee a choice?” I asked with a last-ditch effort that probably had no hope.

  “Nope,” she quickly shot back at me.

  I sighed. “Figured. Fine, I’ll leave tomorrow so I can be at your beck and call. I’ll stay with you guys just to spare my mom some money, but the two of you get too rambunctious, and I’m out.” I thought for a moment before adding one last request. “And, Les, one more thing. No groomsmen over.”

  We hung up, and I headed to my room to pack a bag for my trip to my personal hell. My stomach knotted instantly at the thought of going home for the first time in four years. The thought of seeing Bryant made me completely nauseated. Maybe I could just hit the airport instead and go back to that cute café in Italy; although, I wouldn’t put it past Leslie to have me tracked and murdered.

  Trying to let out some steam, I grabbed a beer and pulled out a small suitcase to pack, determined to take only the bare essentials so I could run as soon as things got too difficult. I grabbed a few pairs of shorts, tanks, and summer dresses and threw them into my suitcase haphazardly. After I decided my bag was good enough, I zipped it up. If she wanted me in anything else, I’d borrow hers, or she could buy it while I was there, since it was her fault my trip had been extended.

  Knowing I was being a pouty baby, I decided it was bedtime and went to lie down. I tossed and turned, watching the digital alarm clock tick minute by minute. Frustrated, I got up and went out to watch television, cartoons to brighten my mood. There is nothing like some magical animation and sing-along songs to cheer a girl up. I settled in, covering myself with the throw, and was smiling in no time. After a few hours, I’d reached the point of the night where every channel only broadcasted infomercials. Unfortunately, with the anxiety of it all, sleep would not be in my foreseeable future.

  I decided it was time to suck it up and deal with it, the sooner the better. I sent a text to Leslie and tossed my suitcase into the back seat. After climbing into the driver’s seat, I pointed my truck to the nearest Starbucks for some caffeine. Damn. The one I ended up at didn’t have a drive-thru so I had to go into the café. I was not thinking when I’d dressed to get on the road and had thrown on some gym shorts and my FSU tank top with my hair up in a messy bun. I ran some fingers through my hair, attempting to salvage it a bit, but there was no hope, so I gave up and walked in. Coffee in hand and back in my truck, I set my GPS for Tampa and hopped on the interstate to head south.

  I-75 felt like a never-ending road, and I could feel myself getting drowsy. When I hit Ocala, I jumped off the interstate to refuel the truck and myself with some more coffee and even a bag of gummy worms. I stretched as the gas tank finished filling and then climbed back in the cab of my truck as some sketchy-looking individuals pulled up in a beat-up Honda. Back on the interstate, I set the cruise control a bit above speed limit and dug in to my candy.

  In no time flat, thanks to no traffic, no cops, and a slightly excessive cruise-control speed, I was almost to Lutz — not quite civilization, but a heck of a lot closer than I had been in the last two hours. Ahead, I saw a lot of brake lights as the road became a parking lot where it was under construction. Just my luck. I smacked the steering wheel, ready to be at Grant and Leslie’s apartment already so I could crash on the couch. Frustrated, I cursed myself for not finding a way to go to sleep.

  How can I detour around this mess? I had an idea of where I was from horse shows years ago and decided to hop off the interstate and take back roads to pass by the construction and bumper-to-bumper traffic. I grabbed out my phone to shoot Leslie a quick text and let her know I’d be late but should be there within an hour.

  The downside to back roads in the dark was they didn’t have streetlights, and the road was pitch black. The darkness crept in on me, and I could feel the sleepiness taking over my body. I gave my head a shake to stay awake and turned my music up a bit louder, singing along off-tune. Occasionally, a car would pass by with its lights too bright in the surrounding darkness. Each time I’d have to shield my eyes, or else see the headlights stuck in my vision for the next five minutes.

  I reached for another worm and chewed it up then rolled down my window to let some fresh air in. A sharper bend was coming up, and I could see headlights from an oncoming car hitting the yellow turn signs. The car came around like a bat out of hell with its high beams on, totally blinding me. I tried to hit my brakes quickly, but the road was too slick, and with the turn, the truck refused my request.

  The oncoming car seemed to have had the same reaction, losing control and turning toward me. The headlights felt like they were coming right at me, causing me to pull my wheel. It was too late. The metal collided, causing a horrible crunching noise, sending my truck into a barrel-roll down the road at sixty miles per hour.

  I wasn’t sure how many times my truck flipped and rolled as I listened to the metal crunching all around me. My seatbelt clung to me for dear life, but I was slung around like a rag doll. Glass shards were coming at me with every window in my truck smashed to pieces, and I tried to bring my arms up to shield my face. The attempt was pointless; I was already covered in blood from cuts and scrapes. Finally, the truck began skidding on the asphalt, sounding like nails on a chalkboard, before finally hitting a tree and coming to a stop.

  The truck had caved in around me, and I was pinned to the driver’s seat. I looked around for my phone that moments ago had been in my cup holder, but now was nowhere to be found. My coffee cup was rolling on its side by my head, empty. The gummy worms had abandoned ship.

  Thankfully, I heard footsteps as someone came running up toward my truck. I could make out in the distance the flashing hazards of the other car.

  Oh
man — I need to turn mine on, too.

  A woman knelt by my side, distracting me from my mission.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” she asked with a trembling voice.

  “I… I think so,” I replied, trying to gulp air that wasn’t coming.

  She looked around me with terror filling her eyes, and it made me wonder what she was seeing that was so horrific. I tried to move again but winced in pain. I heard someone yell to her from a distance, asking if I was conscious, and she yelled back to them.

  “Can you get out?” she questioned hesitantly, surveying me hanging upside down in the cab.

  I shuffled my weigh clumsily, cringing in pain. “No, I’m trapped.”

  The person yelled again, so she stood to hear him better and respond. I tried to focus on the fuzzy terrycloth slippers she had on. She must live in one of those houses I’d passed. Her slippers were covered in dirt and grass from running out to the road.

  I looked at my emergency flasher button and tried to reach for it to turn it on. Isn’t that what you do in a wreck? I felt like something was in my throat, and I coughed to clear it, feeling something warm that tasted like copper on my lips. My eyes blinked to bring my vision back into focus. I could see her shift her weight and squat back down, but it was too late. My life draining, I gave in, closing my eyes and succumbing to my exhaustion, ready for the pain to stop and willing to join my baby girl in heaven.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Bryant

  What a night! The calls were coming in back to back for our unit. My partner, Greg, and I were sitting in our rig on the outskirts, trying to quickly eat the subs we’d picked up before we’ got a call. The dispatcher came over the radio for us, and I set my sandwich down to radio back in. Greg shook his head after he heard the call and wrapped his sandwich up. He buckled his seatbelt and hit the lights. We headed toward the accident scene.

  When we got there, the fire rescue truck was already getting out the Jaws of Life for the overturned truck. It had happened on a hairpin turn with two vehicles involved. The car nearest where we’d parked had a crunched-up left front end from impact and the air bags had deployed. The red truck was mangled and looked almost cylindrical. It had obviously rolled a lot before skidding to a halt on its roof and looked like the tree in front of it had finally stopped its momentum.

  Jeez!

  I headed for the car that was closest to me as Greg went to the truck. We needed to see how things were progressing and to evaluate the condition of the person or persons inside. I looked back over my shoulder at the truck that felt all too familiar. Weird. I shook my head to focus on my job. The accident could get bad fast, and I knew I needed to stay on my toes. I approached the car, noticing the man who’d been driving was visibly shaken up.

  “Hello, sir, how are you doing? My name is Bryant. I’m a paramedic. Can you tell me your name?”

  The guy rattled off the answers to my questions and said he felt okay, just a bit sore. I looked him over and didn’t see any visible injuries as he moved to step out of the car.

  “Sir, I’m going to just have you wait there.

  “The girl — is she okay?” he asked with a panicky voice. “I was just coming around the curve and forgot to kill my high beams — so I went to hit the switch, but my wheel jerked — and then I was hitting the truck by the door — and then it was flipping. Oh my God, please tell me she is okay. The lady who called you guys was screaming about blood and her being unconscious.”

  Shit. Unconscious and blood is never a good sign.

  “Sir, my partner, Greg, is over there right now evaluating her, and she has a fire-rescue team to help get her from the vehicle. She is in the best possible hands.” I tried to sound reassuring, but not knowing the condition of the other driver, I didn’t want to give him a false hope in case she didn’t make it.

  “I’m fine. Can you go check and tell me what’s going on?” His voice shook as tears dripped from his eyes.

  “Yes, sir, you hang tight, okay? I’ll go check and be right back to get you out with the rescue team. It looks like your driver door won’t open, so we will most likely have to carefully pull you from the passenger side. Don’t move.”

  I stood to head toward the ambulance as Greg was making his way toward it as well, shaking his head solemnly.

  “So what’s the story over there?” he asked, tilting his head toward the guy’s car.

  “Male, mid-forties. I see no visible injuries to him. Looks like the car protected him. There was only minor damage, and the airbags deployed. He says he feels fine, but I’ll bet he is sore later,” I rattled off to Greg, hoping to move on to what he’d seen. “What about the person in the truck? The guy in the car is pretty shaken up. Apparently, the female bystander had been yelling about the injuries and such, so he is freaking out. Told him I’d get the assessment and let him know.”

  Greg had a grim look on his face, and I knew instantly, after being his partner for over a year, that whatever he’d seen wasn’t good.

  He pulled in a big breath as he pulled a bag out and quickly shut the compartment door while giving me the rundown.

  “Come on, walk with me,” he demanded, “Female, twenty-three, they said. She is unconscious with blood coming from everywhere. I did some quick stabilizing and was coming to grab you. There is another rig coming that can help with your guy, and I’ll put an officer with him in case anything changes. I’m going to need two sets of hands on this other one. It’s bad, Bryant. Get ready.”

  I put up the mental wall I’d had to use for so many accident scenes where the outcome hadn’t looked good to stay detached and try to save the person’s life.

  “Do we have any I.D. on her?” I asked as I grabbed another bag we’d probably need. I made my way behind him, looking at the truck.

  Jeez, this thing is smashed up. It’s amazing she is even alive.

  As I got closer, I could see a Seminole logo and had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Stepping a little closer, I saw a vinyl decal of a horse jumping a fence, and the air in my lungs left entirely.

  OH SHIT!

  A firefighter hollered something, but I couldn’t hear him over the saw cutting the metal. I hustled past Greg to the truck and dropped to my knees beside the woman in the driver seat, who was unconscious, cut up, and bleeding.

  I could see where Greg had done some basic work to evaluate what was going on and, even though she was covered in dirt, I recognize her beautiful face. Rose! Greg stepped up next to me, not realizing my heart rate had increased exponentially, and started talking to me about where fire rescue was with the extraction and what we needed to do. I reached up to place my fingers on her jugular and felt a very weak pulse in her carotid.

  “Yeah, I told you it was bad. I don’t even know how she is alive.”

  Cause she is a fighter! I blinked my eyes to try to internally reset myself and put on my game face. I didn’t want to get pulled off the scene, and nobody would fight harder for her and not give up than me. She needed me — now.

  When Rose was finally freed from the vehicle, we put her on a backboard, carefully removing her from the vehicle. The injuries were extensive. She had a broken arm — and leg, it looked like — and a gash that would definitely need stitches on her head. Bruising that covered her abdomen had probably caused some internal damage as well. I brushed the hair from her face and cleaned up the massive amount of blood so I could see what needed our primary attention and what could wait until she got to the hospital. Greg had stabilized the broken bones and was strapping her to the gurney.

  “Man, if this was anywhere else we’d be calling in the ‘copter.”

  I nodded, knowing he was right, but pushing that from my mind. Greg’s crazy driving would have to be enough. Rose was strapped on to the gurney, while I was at her head as Greg and I started moving her to the rig to get her to the hospital.

  “Dude, haul ass, we got no time to waste here.” I knew he knew, but somehow saying it made me feel better.
/>
  Almost to the hospital, she had coded twice I was pushing meds and had needed to do a needle decompression for the hemothorax from the internal injuries. I fought back the tears that I knew would fall soon and reached for my phone to text Grant to call me.

  During the ride it hit me; of course she was here. Rose would be Leslie’s maid of honor and had been driving down for the wedding. Why she was driving at four A.M. was beyond me. Had she even slept at all before leaving Tallahassee?

  Just as we pulled in to the ER entrance, her alarms sounded again. Rose had completely flat-lined. I began CPR, instantly repeating all my training over and over to stay focused on what I needed to do to save her life. Even if she hated me, I couldn’t lose even the little bit of her I still had. I sent up a prayer to our baby girl, telling her I knew I’d failed them both four years earlier, but that I needed her mommy here. Probably selfish — but damn it! I couldn’t handle Rose dying, too.

  Ten minutes later, I was sitting in the ER waiting area with my head on my hands, elbows resting on my knees. Greg walked over with bottled water and our subs and took the seat next to me.

  “You know her, don’t you?” he asked, obviously knowing the answer even before I’d shaken my head yes. He huffed loudly at me in disappointment.

  I turned my head toward him to see his expression. “Why didn’t you say something? You know you shouldn’t have touched her then.”

  I reached up, subconsciously rubbing the tattoo on my left arm, and Greg’s eyes followed my movement.

  “No! Rose?” he said with a mix of shock and horror.

  A year of sitting in a rig had allowed a lot of down time, where I’d spilled my life story to Greg. He knew all my demons. I just nodded in reply, and he patted his hand roughly on my back in a manly gesture of sympathy. I went back to staring at the tile, listening to the click of the clock’s second hand as I counted the flecks in the tile between my boots.

  “I’m going to go call dispatch, let them know what’s going on and that you’re done for the night,” Greg informed me as he got up and headed outside toward the phone.