by Jody Day
Scott stumbled out of the front door and onto the ground, gasping for breath. He cradled something in both arms. Two firefighters ran to him and helped him up, getting him away from the house. They put an oxygen mask on him, but he waved it away.
Tears of relief flowed freely down my face as I ran to him. He handed me my grandmother’s journals, photo albums, and the little letter box.
“You risked your life for this? Don’t you know that if you had died, none of this would have mattered to me?” I had both my hands on his shoulders and shook him silly. His eyes widened and tears made tracks down his sooty face. He started to speak, but wrapped me in a smoky embrace. He turned my head away from the burning mansion.
My mother let loose a blood curdling scream. “There’s someone else inside the house!”
We all turned.
A gasp stuck in my throat. My heart raced. Darryl struggled against the flames, trying to break the great room windows with a chair. I held my breath. Firemen raced to the scene. They chopped him out and pulled him, coughing and gasping, a safe distance from the blaze. First responders dashed over with a gurney.
As they rolled him past our little group, I stared down into his pain-seared face. Terror emanated from his eyes. I prayed silently as they put him in the ambulance.
“Bailey, there’s nothing more we can do here now,” Mom said. “I’m going to the hospital. He doesn’t have anyone here.” My mother switched into her nursing zone and headed for her car.
In spite of everything, I felt terrible for Darryl. I’d never seen him need anything before. Our whole relationship had been a farce, but I couldn’t leave him alone in this. I pulled away from Scott and took a step to join my mother.
Scott grabbed my hand. I turned to look at him. His eyes questioned me, but then he nodded understanding. I clutched my grandmother’s things to my heart and whispered,
“Thank you.”
The second story of the mansion crashed and crumbled to the ground. I heard Gran’s voice whisper to my heart, “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
I’m not there yet, Gran.
~*~
“Bailey.” My mother’s voice gently woke me. I’d fallen asleep in the hospital waiting room. I sat up and blinked the sleep from my eyes.
“How is he?”
“A rough night for Darryl.”
“Have they transferred him to the burn unit in Dallas?”
She shook her head. “It looks like mostly first degree burns on his arms. Although he looked black all over, it was mostly soot. His burns are mostly superficial. It’s a miracle, but…” She sat and put her arm around me.
“But what?” Had he been hurt in some other way? The numbness in my head cleared. Why did I even care?
She lowered her voice. “He will recover from his burns, but I’m afraid he’s in serious trouble.”
“What kind of trouble? You mean the fact that he is in debt to loan sharks and perpetrated a fraud against me that has caught up with him?” I whispered back.
My mom blanched at this announcement. I hadn’t had a chance to tell her all that had taken place in Mr. Ballard’s office. I briefly filled her in.
“Whoa, that’s crazy. I guess it doesn’t matter now, though. The police think Darryl started the fire.” She held me tighter.
I stared back at her in shock. Why was I so surprised? Had he seen Pinewood Manor—his way out of a half million dollar debt—slipping through his hands in my lawyer’s office? If he couldn’t have it, neither would I? This was more than my tired brain could handle. I couldn’t even cry because it made my head pound harder.
I needed to think about something else. I’d called the insurance agent. My eyes glazed over as I thought about what a long process we’d have to go through. So many decisions to make. I mentioned it to Mom.
“At least we have the list of contents and everything in Mr. Ballard’s office. Still, it’s going to take some time. They will send an adjustor and…” Mom continued to explain what would likely happen next. I knew the importance of it all, and that it was my responsibility, but my head swam. The loss was more than I could take in.
“Bailey, are you all right?” Mom put both her hands on my face.
“I’ll take her home, Mrs. Brown.” Scott stood in the doorway. He gave my mother a hug and took me by the hand.
“I’d appreciate it.” Mom hugged me. “She really needs some rest.”
“What about you, Mom? You must be exhausted.” I reached up and caressed her tired face.
“Just a few more hours in my shift. I’ll make it. You go on now.” She turned me around and gently pushed me out the door.
I sat in the passenger seat while Scott drove. “Where to? Your mother’s, your apartment, or…”
I looked into his eyes and knew he understood. This trauma had established some kind of unspoken bond between us. He headed toward Shelley’s Heart as a soft rain began to fall.
I apparently fell asleep on Scott’s shoulder because I woke in his arms, being carried up the porch steps toward the front door. Rain still misted the air.
I’d always wanted to be carried by a romantic lover that way, but the dream would always come crashing down because I would imagine the prince huffing and puffing because of my weight. Scott didn’t seem strained. His air of protection and concern warmed me to the bottom of my heart.
“Here you go.” He lowered me to the ground by the door, holding me until I found my balance, and then he kissed me on the cheek. “Go to bed, sleepyhead.” He took off his cap and rubbed his head, tousling his hair into a mess. I noticed then how tired he looked. He must have been up all night as well.
“Bad night?” I smoothed his hair and kissed him back on the cheek.
“I went back to the fire and stayed until it was all over. There’s some house left, but not much. The guest house in the back is still standing, but even that’s smoke damaged. You did have insurance, right?” He unlocked the front door and stood with the screen in hand as I slipped past him into the house.
“Of course. Quite a large amount actually.” Those last few words came out in a wide yawn.
“Whoa, better hit the hay, little lady. I’ve got to check on Dad.” He yawned as well. “Also, gotta make sure the Pearson brothers have the washout under control.”
“Try to get a nap yourself, OK?” I put my hands on his cheeks and looked directly into his eyes. “I mean it.”
“Sure, I will.” He grinned, deepening those dimples. I knew he wouldn’t get a nap at all.
“Scott, why did you risk your life for my grandmother’s things?”
“We’ll talk about that later.” He smiled and then kissed the air. “Go to bed.” He gently shoved me behind the door and closed it.
Too keyed up to sleep yet, even though I couldn’t stop yawning, I walked around the bed-and-breakfast. I marveled at how much more at home I felt here than at my apartment. I wandered into the kitchen and fixed myself a glass of water. A light rain tickled at the kitchen window. I opened the back door and let the cool breeze and misty spray coat my face and blow my hair. The image of a destroyed Pinewood Manor sharpened against the muddled fatigue in my brain.
What now, Lord?
Gran’s house was gone. My house, my future home. Should I rebuild? Maybe there was enough insurance coverage to help me take care of Mom in her old age. I’d always planned to do that. It’s my fault she’s alone, anyway. If I hadn’t been so stupid in the first place, there never would have been any Darryl, any fire. What would happen to him now?
I knew I reverted to my old, self-destructive thought processes, but strength eluded me at that moment.
Then, Gran’s words settled on me. “Sometimes the godliest thing you can do, Bailey, is get some sleep.”
Yes, ma’am.
I fairly melted into the bed in the Adirondack Room. Sleep finally welcomed me, deeply.
I dreamed of Scott, his face black with soot and streaked w
ith tears, holding out the box that contained the letter from my father. I recoiled as though it were a snake. The sound of axes crashing into the windows of the burning house startled me awake.
No, someone knocked violently on the front door of Shelley’s. I shook the dream from my head and the sleep from my eyes.
“Just a minute,” I called toward the front room and checked to see if I was presentable.
Tracy reached for me as I opened the front door. “Bailey, can you come? Peeps has had another stroke.”
14
“Scott?” I whispered as I tiptoed into Peeps’s hospital room.
Scott knelt beside the hospital bed, his head resting on his father’s hand. He looked up at me with a pained, exhausted wince. “No way to tell yet.”
He rubbed his father’s hand in both of his. “They’ve done tests but won’t know anything until he regains consciousness. Please, sit down, Bailey. Did you get any rest?”
“I’m afraid to ask whether you did.” I gave his shoulders a gentle rub before sitting down in one of the two chairs beside the bed.
“I actually did sleep for an hour. But Dad woke me, hollering in gibberish. I ran into his room, and he appeared to be having a seizure. The ambulance came right away. He lost consciousness somewhere along the way. I hope this isn’t the end for him. I don’t think I can handle that. Not now.”
He slid into the chair beside me. Every inch of his face showed the strain of the last few months. Shelley’s death, Peeps’s initial stroke, working twenty-four-seven, not to mention trying to help me. He looked on the verge of breaking.
Something rose to attention inside me. I knelt before him, taking both hands in mine. Scott’s chest heaved a heavy sigh. I kissed his hands, then stood and reached over to hold Peeps’s hand, as well.
“Father, these men need You so much right now.” The weight of the situation brought tears to my eyes, and I struggled to pray. “Lord, could You pour out Your strength into them, give them healing and wisdom.”
Scott choked a sob. His body heaved slightly.
“We don’t know what else to do except put it all in Your hands.” I stopped, weeping quietly. A few moments passed as we sat in silence. I leaned over and kissed Peeps on the cheek.
Scott breathed easier now. “Thank you.” He relaxed a bit, rubbed his neck, and moved his head from side to side.
I took him by the hand and pulled him to a stand. “Come on.” I tugged him toward the door.
“Where are we going?” He caught the doorframe and stopped us before I could get him into the hallway. “I can’t leave him.”
“Trust me, Scott.” I pulled again. He looked back at his father but let me lead him down the hall to my mother’s office. I opened her closet door and retrieved a blanket and pillow. Her couch made into a bed. After folding out the bed and arranging the pillow and blanket, I took Scott by the shoulders and sat him down on the makeshift bed.
“I’ll stay with your dad. You get some rest.” He stood to protest.
“No, I mean it. If anything happens, his room is just down the hall, and I’ll come and get you. Now lie down.” I kissed his cheek and gently shoved him down.
“I don’t think I can sleep.” The worried furrow on his brow broke my heart.
“Close your eyes. I’ll come get you. I promise.” I turned out the light and left before he could protest any further. I closed the door behind me and then leaned against it to take stock.
How could I help? What would he be doing today if it weren’t for this? I heard his cell phone ring. I whipped the door back open. “Don’t answer that.” I snatched the device from his hand. “If it’s important, I’ll let you know.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed one eye, peering at me with the other. I winked at him and left the room again. The cell continued to ring. Toppy’s name filled the screen.
“Hi, Toppy.” I tried to sound cheerful. “Is everything OK?”
“How’s my brother-in-law?” He spoke tightly, as though he was having a hard time not sounding stressed.
“It’s hard to tell, but he’s resting comfortably.” I hoped the calm in my voice would assure him. “When he regains consciousness, they’ll be able to know more.”
“When he regains…or if?” I heard a lot of customers in the background.
“When, Toppy, of course. When. No ifs, OK? What’s all that noise? Are you all right?”
“Full house today. Two school buses this time. I guess that preacher spread the word. It’s a blessing because we need the paying customers, but it’s just me and Tracy. I feel like I should be with Scott and Paul instead of flipping hamburgers. I need to go.”
“I’ll see if I can get you some help. You’re right where Scott and Peeps need you, Toppy. Hang in there. I’m praying for you.”
“Yes’m. Adios.”
Mandy and Macy would no doubt have classes today, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. I punched in Mandy’s cell number. After giving her the same report about Peeps, I asked them if they could go and help Tracy and Toppy.
Mandy spoke to someone on her end of the line then returned to me. “Sure. We’ll be happy to help. We can leave right now.”
“Will you have to skip class? I’d hate to ask you to do that.”
“No, we’re both off this afternoon. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Glad to help.” Mandy whispered details quickly to Macy then spoke to me again.
“Bailey, I’m so sorry about Pinewood Manor. Are you OK? How’s your mom?”
“We both have something else to occupy our time just now. Of course we’re sick about it, but not much we can do. I’ll tell you about it later. Gotta go.”
The Washout Express number was next. I don’t know which of the Pearson brothers answered the phone.
“Is everything all right there?” I asked.
“It’s been one truck after another today. Feel like we oughta be with the boss, though. How’s it going?”
I gave him the report. “You’re right where they need you to be. I’ll keep you posted. Please call me, not Scott, if you have any problems. Talk to you later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Third time I’d been called that today. I was beginning to feel like the Queen o’ Sheba. My heart caught in my throat when I remembered my first meeting with Peeps when he called me by that name, three times in succession. Lord, please don’t take him yet. Please let him stay with Scott…with all of us a while longer.
Phone calls made, I headed back down the hall. I passed the critical care unit on the way back to Peeps’s room. I thought of going in and checking on Darryl, but changed my mind. Had he really started the fire?
I tiptoed into Peeps’s room and sat down. The clock on the wall approached seven. The doctor would be making his evening rounds soon. The chair felt good to my weary bones. What had it been, nine days since I took Exit 477? My life had spun a hundred and eighty degrees since then.
Fired, betrayed, humiliated? Yes.
Blessed, temporarily employed, included on Exit 477? Yes.
Devastated, clueless, worried and possibly…loved? Yes and maybe. Surely. Too tired to think about it now.
A soft scruff of rubber soles on the hospital room floor announced my mother’s arrival. “I see you’ve put your man to bed in my office,” she teased as she picked up Peeps’s chart from the foot of his bed.
“Maybe, we’ll see.” Was I blushing? My face certainly felt warm. Mom took the chair beside me. We held hands, gazed at Peeps, and I silently prayed.
“Why don’t you go get a cup of coffee, Bailey. I’ll stay in here for a while.”
Not a bad idea. I walked into the hallway.
“Bailey!”
Oh no. Taylor Trent from the Marshall Gazette stood at the nurses’ station. I’d known him since high school, and I also knew how persistent he could be. No doubt, he wanted to talk about the fire. He rushed me as soon as he saw me.
“Can I ask you a few questions about the fire at Pi
newood Manor?”
“Not now, if you don’t mind. I’m sitting with a sick friend.” I answered in a hushed tone, hoping he would take my cue. No dice.
“Just a few questions. How do you feel about the burning down of your grandmother’s house? Is it true it was arson? Is it true your fiancé set the fire?”
Still trying to process that possibility, I certainly didn’t want to comment to the paper about it.
My mother came into the hallway. “Shhh!”
I looked Trent squarely in the eye. “I have no comment at this time. Please leave.”
“Certainly, if you’ll answer a couple questions. Was it a lover’s quarrel?”
I stepped forward and met the man face to face. “If you don’t get out of here, I’m going to call the cops. When and if I make a statement, I will do it on my own time, and not while I have a gravely ill friend. Now please leave!”
He backed away, eyes wide. “Yes, Bailey, but…” He continued to back down the hall. When he was a safe distance from my wrath, he tried again.
“Just a few words, please. The town is mourning the loss of one of its landmarks. If you’d just…” He backed right into Scott, who stood with sleepy eyes, messed up hair, and in sock feet.
Scott stepped up to the reporter and stood practically nose to nose. “What part of what the lady said do you not understand?”
The reporter fled.
“Thanks, Scott,” I said. “What a pest.”
We went back into Peeps’s room.
Scott sat on the bed at his father’s feet. “Sounded like you were doing just fine on your own.” He winked at me. “Any change?”
“Not yet. The doctor should be here soon. Want something to eat?”
“I’m good for now. I need my cell phone. Need to check on the troops.” He reached for his phone, which I was still holding in my hand. I dropped it into my purse.
“I’ve talked to everyone, and all is well. You focus on your dad. I wish you’d slept a little longer.”
“Couldn’t, and I’m glad I didn’t miss you giving that reporter what for. Way to go, Bailey. You were a veritable…”
“Queen o’ Sheba, Queen o’ Sheba…” we both began.