“Didn’t...What do you mean he didn’t make it?” Steph asked. Her heart thudded against her ribcage. This was bad, so bad, her mind couldn’t wrap itself around it. “He’s dead?”
Sal nodded.
“How’d he die?” She didn’t know why she needed to know, but she did. Facts had a way of giving her the distance she needed to comprehend what happened.
Eric blinked his tears away. Gary was his buddy. They’d gone to high school together—played baseball together, went to the State Championship. They were tight, always had been.
“He was trying to save the neighbor lady, Mrs. Smithers. They shot him down while he was running to her!” Eric turned, and hit the concrete wall with his bare knuckles. The pain of such an action didn’t even register on his face. He stalked away.
Parker took control. “What happened?” she asked Sal. “Tell us everything you know.”
He didn’t get a chance to answer because the chief of police, Bob Ed Thomas, walked up. He gently placed his big hand on Steph’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
Bob Ed was a big man. He was nearing sixty, getting a big belly, but still a man to be reckoned with. If you put a cowboy hat on his head he was the spitting image of John Wayne.
Parker pulled Sal aside, giving Bob Ed and Steph a moment alone.
“How?” Steph muttered. “How’d this happen?”
“It was a drug deal gone bad,” Bob Ed said. “The two guys that shot at them were Los Zetas out of Mexico City. They were hauling cocaine. Evidently, they intended on keeping the money and the drugs. They shot both the dealers and when they were making their getaway, Gary and Rosa went after them. Gary was hit first. Rosa shot one of them before she went down and Mrs. Smithers shot the other one with her husband’s 12-gauge shot gun.”
Steph tried to steady her breathing. “Where? Where was she shot?”
“Back,” he answered, adding, “Rosa is the toughest woman I know, Steph. She’ll pull through this.”
“She wasn’t wearing her vest,” Steph said. It was more a statement than a question.
Bob Ed shook his head. “They had to move fast. Rosa followed protocol. She called for back-up. According to Mrs. Smithers, the Los Zetas bastards saw they were cops and started shooting. Rosa and Gary didn’t have time to do anything. No warning whatsoever.”
“Is Mrs. Smithers all right?” Parker asked, reappearing with Sal at her side.
“Yep, ninety-two and still kicking,” Bob Ed said. “She’s angry, swearing she’s going to cross the border and shoot up the whole gang.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t have a passport,” Sal said.
Steph blinked hard and pinched the bridge of her nose to keep the tears at bay. She saw Dr. Susan Everett head their way. Susan was Rosa’s long time friend. They’d known each other since college. She had shoulder length dark hair that she usually tucked behind her ears, and blue eyes. She never wore makeup—not because she was making some sort of statement, but because she was much too impatient to take the time to apply it. She was very pretty, but didn’t know she was, which was the best kind of pretty.
Steph rushed at her. “Is she all right? Is she going to be all right?” It was more of a prayer than a question.
Susan took Steph’s hand. “Come sit with me,” she said. She pulled Steph toward a row of plastic chairs.
Bob Ed put his arm across Sal’s shoulders. “Let’s go find Eric before he punches something that punches back.” In Fenton, the police worked closely with the fire department. Everyone knew everyone else, and they were like family. Dysfunctional at times, but still family.
Parker made to go with the men. “No, Parker, please stay,” Steph said, holding out her hand. “I need you right now.”
“Okay, I’m here,” Parker said quietly. She sat next to Steph and squeezed her hand.
“Thank you,” Steph said.
Susan, looking more exhausted than Steph had ever seen her, sat beside them. “How are you holding up?” she asked Steph.
Steph simply sat there. She didn’t know how to answer that. Her emotions seeped in every direction like when you put a paper towel on top of a spill—her whole life spread out in all directions. The one constant she felt was fear. “I’m afraid.”
Susan nodded. “That’s okay. That’s good. It means you’re still with us because Rosa needs you right now.”
Steph sniffed. “I know that.” Even to her own ears she sounded defensive. Maybe she was, Steph thought. After all, her life was under attack right now. Everything she held dear was being ripped away.
“This is what’s happening. Rosa’s in surgery. Dr. McCoy is an amazing surgeon. Luckily, it was his rotating day at the hospital so we didn’t have to wait. Rosa was shot in her T-12, S-5.”
“Her spine,” Steph said. Her mind reeled from the implications. She was well aware of what a spinal injury could mean.
“Yes. Dr. McCoy is performing an intracanalicular bullet removal.”
“Will she walk again?” Steph asked, her voice quivering. She silently berated herself for allowing her fear to show. Rosa always called Steph her big, butch lesbian. She wasn’t feeling butch right now. Right now, she felt like a wet towel that was left discarded in a heap on the floor.
Parker put her arm around Steph’s shoulders as if sensing that she was on the edge and ready to jump. “Rosa is tough,” Parker said, trying to keep Steph from derailing.
“She is,” Steph said to Parker. “But even Rosa can’t just bounce back from a bullet wound to the spine.” She turned back to Susan. “Be straight with me. Will she walk again?”
Susan studied Steph. “One thing at a time. She’s still in surgery.”
“I know that,” Steph said again. She rose and walked to the glass window that overlooked the parking lot.
Susan said, “She’s alive. Be grateful for that.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” Steph said, her back still turned.
“Her recovery rate is fifty-fifty, at best.”
Steph turned back to Susan. Her cheeks were red. Her fear turned to sudden anger. “Fifty-fifty? She only has a fifty percent chance of walking again?”
Susan stood. “All you’re concerned about is whether or not she’ll walk?”
“Of course not,” Steph said through gritted teeth. “I love her no matter what. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s Rosa. How will she handle not being able to walk?”
“She’ll handle it,” Susan said. “And maybe you shouldn’t see her until you can handle it.”
“You can’t keep me from her!”
“I don’t want you burdening her with your fear. If you can’t support her in the way she needs, then maybe you should stay away,” Susan said.
Steph took a menacing step toward Susan. Parker jumped up and grabbed Steph by the shoulders, saying, “We’re all upset right now. This is… difficult. Let’s take a moment to breathe, okay?”
Susan walked away without another word.
Steph took a deep breath and sat down. She scrubbed her face with her hands. “What the hell’s wrong with her?” she growled.
“She’s as upset as you are. Let it go. Right now, we need to be strong for Rosa and that’s what we’re going to do,” Parker said.
At that moment, Amy and Tess came flying into the waiting area. “Is she…” Amy started to say, but she saw Steph and stopped.
Parker stood up. “Rosa’s in surgery. They’re removing the bullet from her spine.”
Tess knelt in front of Steph and wrapped her in a hug. “She’s strong. Susan said that Dr. McCoy is a great surgeon and she would know,” Tess said.
“Susan’s angry with me,” Steph said. She slumped back in her chair. “We had a… disagreement.”
“Why?” Tess asked. She stood.
“It’s fine. Emotions are hot right now. We’re all under a lot of stress,” Parker said, trying to smooth things over.
“Of course,” Tess said. Tess was Susan’s girlfriend. She had
long auburn hair, green eyes, and pale skin with freckles. She was a social worker specializing in foster care.
“I made her mad,” Steph admitted. “She thinks all I care about is whether Rosa will…” she choked on the words before finishing, “walk again.”
Amy asked, “What did she say?”
“Fifty-fifty,” Steph answered.
That news silenced them all.
“But we have to…” Amy tried to say.
“Look at the bright side, I know,” Steph finished for her. “Be grateful she’s alive.”
They all sat. The silence was thick. After a moment, Parker clapped her hands and abruptly stood. “Coffee. I’ll get us all coffee.”
“There’s a new place in the next building over by the blood lab. They make pretty good coffee,” Tess said dismally.
Tess had evidently been hanging around the hospital, Steph thought. Both Tess and Susan were keeping their new relationship low profile. It was like neither of them wanted to jinx it, especially Susan, who’d been left at the altar while her bride ran off with the wedding planner. Tess was handling her newfound love with kid gloves, afraid to scare Susan away.
Steph didn’t feel like coffee, but knew Parker was doing what she did best—fixing things. Coffee would be a distraction for them all and Parker knew it.
Parker looked at Amy. “Want to come with me? I can’t carry them all.”
“Sure,” Amy said, glad to have something to do besides wait.
***
Parker and Amy held hands as they walked out the doors of the hospital. Parker turned the corner and pulled Amy into an embrace. There was nothing like seeing another person’s tragedy to make you appreciate what you had.
“I love you so much,” Parker whispered in Amy’s ear.
“I love you too. Are you okay?”
“Seeing what Steph is going through made me realize how I couldn’t bear losing you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Amy reassured her. She placed both her palms on Parker’s cheeks and forced her to meet her gaze. “Listen to me. It took me this long to find you, I’m not letting go now.”
Last year, Amy had moved back to her hometown of Fenton after living most of her adult life in New York City. She came home when she found out her mother was ill. Her mother had burned the kitchen of her home and had to be put into Brookside, a home for those suffering the effects of Alzheimer’s. She had hired Parker to renovate her mother’s house and their love had blossomed. Parker was Amy’s rock, her touchstone. She never would have been able to handle her mother’s death without Parker by her side.
Parker brushed Amy’s brown bangs off her forehead and gazed into her deep brown eyes. It was those eyes that had captivated Parker from the very beginning. It was as if, when Amy looked at her, she saw the real Parker, the Parker inside, the Parker hidden beneath her skin. She saw all her flaws and loved her anyway.
“Is Rosa really going to make it? Or are we all kidding ourselves?” Amy asked. “I didn’t want to ask that in front of Steph.”
“She’ll make it through surgery. She lost a lot of blood, but the response team got there fast,” Parker said. She’d gathered all this from Sal when Steph had been talking to Chief Bob Ed. “The bullet went between her vertebrae and missed her spinal cord. That doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot of damage.” Sal had told her this, also. He’d been in the Iraq war as a medic and understood the implications of bullet wounds to the spine.
“What about Gary?” Amy asked.
Parker looked away. “He didn’t make it.”
Amy inhaled sharply. “Poor Rosa. He was like a brother to her.” They were silent for a moment, then Amy whispered, “Oh, no. His wife. He has a daughter.”
Parker nodded sadly. “At least the men who did it are dead.”
Amy was silent. There was a part of her that still couldn’t believe what had happened. It seemed so unreal. Or was that just a defense mechanism of her brain when it didn’t want to process what had happened?
“So, what’s next?” Amy asked.
“We get coffee,” Parker said.
They walked toward the coffee shop, still holding hands. They didn’t care if the people of Fenton, Missouri disapproved of two lesbians showing public displays of affection. That was the furthest thing from their minds right now. All they knew was that they were afraid to let go of each other.
“What happened between Steph and Susan?” Amy asked. “Steph said they had a disagreement or something?”
“They both took their anger out on each other,” Parker said. “Steph lashed out at the first thing she could find. Unfortunately, that first thing was Susan. Steph’s not too good at being helpless. Anger is her go-to emotion.”
“I can understand that,” Amy said. She had felt helpless most of her life and knew how hard it was.
“When Rosa gets out of surgery, they’ll only let Steph go in to to see her. Then we’ll go shopping.”
“Shopping?” Amy asked incredulously.
“I need supplies. For building ramps.”
“Ramps?”
“Rosa is going to be in a wheelchair for a while, maybe longer…” Parker stopped. “Maybe always. Their house has steps in the front and back. Rosa is not going to abide being lifted in and out of the house. She’ll want independence. The ramps will give her that independence. At least partially.”
Amy understood that this was Parker’s way of fighting. It was how she was going to cope with her own helplessness. “Okay. We’ll go shopping. I can help.”
Parker and Amy entered the coffee shop. The inside was all glistening chrome and modern furniture. It looked like somebody’s idea of futuristic.
Parker ordered four lattes with three shots of espresso each. As the woman behind the counter began to make the coffees, Amy said, “Is that much caffeine a good idea? We don’t want to be bouncing off the walls.”
“That’s exactly what we want. Sitting is the worst thing for Steph. I’ll get her walking the halls. We have a long night ahead of us.”
“Right,” Amy said, picking up two of the cups while Parker paid.
As they carried the coffees back to the hospital, Amy said, “You’re a wonderful friend, you know that? Steph’s lucky to have you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you do things and you do them selflessly,” Amy said.
“It’s just coffee,” Parker said. Her tone suggestd that she wished she could do more. Parker switched both coffees to her left hand and opened the hospital door.
“It’s more than that,” Amy said. “A lot more.”
“They’d do the same for me.”
In the waiting room, they found Tess on the phone and Steph staring out the window. There was nothing to look at but a parking lot full of cars. But Steph wasn’t really looking outside. She was caught in a place where time was suspended and the only thing she could see was Rosa’s face.
Parker gently tapped Steph on the shoulder and handed over her coffee. “We should’ve brought the cookies you made.”
Steph gave her half a smile. “I wonder if Rosa ate hers…”
The unfinished thought hung in the air.
Parker stood next to Steph and gazed out the window. On the far side of the parking lot were a few trees, planted by Up with Trees, a non-profit forestry organization. The leaves were turning late this year, but the oaks and maples were doing their best to put on their bright colors.
After several moments of silence, Steph said, “Rosa and I were going to drive up to the mountains and hike the Hodsen Trail, take pictures of the leaves. Did I tell you Rosa got a wild hair up her ass and signed up for a Continuing Ed watercolor class at the college?”
“No, you did not.” Parker tried to imagine Rosa painting. The artist inside the cop.
“Yeah, it’s supposed to be good stress therapy. Like the coloring fad. She talked Eric into taking the class with her.” Steph chuckled. “Can you imagine that hulk holding a paint brush? They
tried to talk me into it, too. No way. I have as much artistic talent as a, I dunno, a rock or something.”
Parker took it as a positive sign that Steph was pushing her sadness away and struggling to get her sense of self back—the one that laughed, kidded, and exuded positive vibes.
“I figure painting will be good for her while she recuperates. I’ll get Eric to come over and we’ll set up some still lifes, you know, with fruit and bottles and stuff. Hell, I’ll buy out the damn art store if it’ll keep her busy and happy,” Steph said.
Tess walked up to them. She held her phone in her hand. “I got an emergency call. I have to go.”
Steph nodded.
“Emergency?” Parker asked. “Doesn’t sound good.”
“Remember that nine-year-old boy we put in foster care, the one whose mother left him for two weeks by himself with no food and he got caught shoplifting?”
“Yeah?” Parker said.
“The mother finally showed. And, guess what? She wants him back,” Tess said. “I’ve got to go talk her out of it, for the boy’s sake. He’s settling in nicely with Jeb and Clementine. The mother is angry, says he’s her boy and she’ll raise him without charity from strangers.” Tess’s eyes flashed angrily.
“Some people should not have children,” Parker said hotly, remembering her own past. Her drug-addicted parents hadn’t been any better than the mother of this boy. But at least they hadn’t left her alone to fend for herself. They had dropped her off at her grandmother’s before they took off for parts unknown. To this day, Parker had no idea where her parents were, or even if they were alive.
“My sentiments exactly. I hate to leave you, Steph,” Tess said, seeming to ask permission.
“No, you need to go. I’ve got these guys,” Steph said.
Tess gave Steph a goodbye hug. “I’ll call later for an update,” Tess said before hurrying off.
“I’ll be right back,” Steph said to Parker. “Restroom.”
“I’ll go with you,” Parker said.
Steph shook her head. “I’m completely capable of going to the bathroom by myself.” She walked away, leaving Parker and Amy the only two in the waiting room.
Amy, lost in thought, picked at her paper coffee cup. Little bits of paper fell to the floor at her feet. Parker sat next to her.
Straight from the Heart Page 3