Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  “Sure.” Jena took the keys Laura fished out of her pocket. “Would you like something, as well?”

  Laura looked down at her shirt and smiled. “No. This color is Will’s favorite.” She smoothed her hand over her sapphire sweater. “I don’t have much in this color, and what I have, I’ve worn lately. Just in case he wakes up.” Her eyes filled, and she waved them off, stepping into the room and back out with a spare blanket. Jena went back into the waiting room and shook it over Nicholas, stroking his hair again before meeting Conor in the corridor.

  Conor wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and they left the hospital, driving in near silence until he pulled up in front of a small, white house. Christmas lights and ornaments festooned the trees and bushes in the front of the house, and Jena was startled to realize that she hadn’t thought about the season at all.

  Conor sat looking at the house with a soft smile. “Not quite up to Call standards, is it?”

  Jena squeezed his hand. “It’s home. That’s all you really need.”

  He nodded and squeezed back before jumping out of the car and grabbing a handful of snow, flinging it with impressive accuracy at the head of someone who was peeking out the door of the house. The guy, a shorter, slightly leaner version of Conor, cursed impressively and flung himself out the door, leaping on Conor’s back and flopping him face-first into a snowdrift by the side of the driveway.

  “Boys!” A strident voice called out from the doorway, and Jena looked to see a small, stout woman with curly dark hair standing there, wiping her hands on a towel. “This girl is going to think I raised a pack of animals.” She smiled and beckoned to Jena. “Come on in, honey, before the animals drag you into this mess.”

  Jena stepped out of the car and slipped her way up the walk, leaving Conor to wrestle. As soon as she was inside, Jena was swept into a hug and her cheek was soundly kissed. “I assume you’re the Jena we’ve heard so much about?”

  Jena nodded.

  “Good. It’s about time you got here.” She tossed her towel over one shoulder and wrapped an arm around Jena’s waist, leading her deeper into the small, neat house. “Nicholas is a particular favorite around here, you know.” She chuckled. “I think we scare the hell out of him, but someone needed to love on that boy, heaven knows.” She turned to Jena with an impish grin. “Good to know he’s taken care of filling that job. If he’d waited much longer, one of my girls…” and she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “He’d have never come back then—died of embarrassment, most likely.”

  As she talked, she’d led the way into a tiny, efficient kitchen with an attached dining area. Gesturing Jena to a chair, she bustled over to the stove, poured something into a mug, and grabbed a couple of cookies off of a plate. Sitting them in front of Jena, she sat down in another chair and held out her hand. “I’m Emma Grady, by the way. I talk a lot, so just tell me to shut up if you want to say something.”

  Jena shook her hand and sipped at the cocoa in the mug. “Jena Baker. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Grady. This is good. Thank you.”

  Emma waved her hand in dismissal. “Doctored Swiss Miss. With eight wee ones, I cut corners wherever I can. I never cut the cocoa out altogether, though.”

  Conor came in the back door, laughing and shaking snow out of his hair, followed by his attacker. “Mom, is there—”

  “On the stove.” She smiled at him and then pointed mock-threateningly. “Strip right there, the pair of you. You’re all over snow. Jena will cover her eyes, and you have nothing I haven’t seen before. Well, keep your underpants on.”

  Jena covered her eyes with her hands, listening to their banter and the sounds of heavy, wet clothes plopping on the floor. “That’s better,” Mrs. Grady finally said. “Now go upstairs and change, and send Meghan down to get Jena.” After a minute, she tapped Jena on the arm. “Gone. It’s safe to open your eyes.” Just as Jena lowered her hand, Conor strolled back into the room, still in his boxers, leading a young woman with flaming red hair and a shy smile.

  “Jena, this is my sister, Meghan. Meghan, Jena.” He flashed a grin as they waved at each other and then jumped forward with a screech, holding his side. “Shit, Mom! Why the hell did you pinch me?”

  She shook her finger at him. “Conor Michael Grady, you get yourself upstairs and put some clothes on! We have young ladies present. And watch your language.”

  Jena pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands, trying not to laugh, but lost it when she heard soft chuffs of laughter and looked up to see Meghan’s shoulders shaking.

  Conor walked toward the stairs rubbing his side and muttering, “My sister, for God’s sake. And nothing Jena hasn’t seen before. Crazy old bat.”

  His mother called out to him, “I heard that, son. And so will Father Herrlich. You still have Christmas confession, young man.”

  Conor groaned and started up the stairs when his sister stopped him. “Con, our dear brother Kevin called while you were gone. He says to remind you that you promised to help him lift an engine today.”

  He snorted in frustration. “How am I supposed to do that? I told Mrs. Cooper that I’d pick some clothes up for Nicholas, and their house is way the hell on the other side of town. Fuck a duck.”

  “Enough.” Mrs. Grady’s voice brooked no objections. “Lord, what kind of savages have I raised? Conor, get your clothes on, and I’ll drop you off at Kevin’s. I’ll take Jena to the Coopers’ and get her back to the hospital. I’d quite like to have a chat with Laura anyway, poor love. Get moving, boy.”

  Jena followed Meghan up the stairs to the room she shared with a sister, and Meghan quickly pulled out a pair of heavy jeans and a sweater. “This should get you through today without freezing.” She flopped on one of the beds, looking at the ceiling. Jena quickly changed, relishing the softly scented warmth of the heavier clothes. With a pang, Jena realized that it was the same scent as clothes her mother laundered and remembered that she hadn’t called them in hours. She reminded herself to do that before she was back in the hospital.

  Meghan rose and grabbed a pair of wooly socks out of a drawer and tossed them to Jena. “Boots?”

  “Seven,” Jena answered.

  “I wear an eight, but Rachel has sevens.” Meghan dug through the closet, coming up with a pair of nearly new hiking boots. “I know it’s icka to wear someone else’s shoes, but I promise she doesn’t have a fungus. You’re lucky you haven’t broken your ass or lost toes in those things.” She gestured toward Jena’s Keds disdainfully. She looked at Jena curiously. “So, you and Nicholas, huh?” Meghan shook her head slowly. “I never thought it would happen. I mean, he’s a cutie and all, but…don’t you think he’s kind of a stiff?”

  Jena thought of the Nicholas she knew and smiled. “Not even. Why? Do you?”

  “Well, yeah. He always struck me as sort of untouchable. Even when he brought girls around, you could tell they didn’t mean anything to him. He hugs us way better than he did any of them. Kind of like another brother, but one that doesn’t fart right next to you and laugh when you gag. Or replace your shampoo with dish soap. Jackasses.”

  Jena heard Conor’s guffaw in the hall. “That was classic, Ryan. Really.” She heard different male laughter and smiled.

  Mrs. Grady stuck her head in the door. “Are you ready, Jena?” she asked, and then smiled at her. “Now that’s a good color on you. Almost exactly the shade of your eyes. Shall we?’”

  A few minutes’ worth of confusion reigned as Mrs. Grady clucked over Conor’s coat that Jena had been wearing and located another, smaller coat. Conor tried to give his mother detailed directions to the Coopers’; she replied with an eyeroll. He finally gave up, scribbling down the address and surreptitiously checking before he got out of the car that Jena had her cell, in case they got lost.

  He needn’t have worried. Mrs. Grady barely glanced at the address Conor had jotted down. All the way there, she talked constantly about her kids and her husband and Nicholas, painting a graphic picture of h
ow very reserved he had been when he first started coming to Sunday lunch or dinner, and how he gradually opened up under the combined force of their open friendliness.

  “Your man would just sit back and listen to all of us with the biggest smile on his face,” Emma said, smiling herself, before she pulled the car to a smooth stop in front of a large, graceful house. “Well, isn’t this pretty?” She got out of the car and waited for Jena to do so also before heading for the front door.

  Jena fumbled with the keys Mrs. Cooper had given her, finally locating the one that Laura had indicated just as the door opened and a smiling woman appeared. “Mrs. Cooper called to tell me you would be coming,” she said in softly accented English. “You must be Jena, and you I would recognize anywhere from the eyes. You must be Conor’s mother. I’m Carmen, housekeeper extraordinaire.” She stepped to the side and let them walk inside before shutting the door.

  “Indeed, I am Conor’s mother,” Mrs. Grady said with a smile. “Don’t tell me he’s spread his reign of terror to this beautiful house, too?”

  Carmen laughed. “Conor is a joy. He makes Nicholas smile, and that’s worth everything to his parents.”

  Jena remembered Nicholas’s shadowed face, even as he slept, and hoped Conor would come to the hospital. Looking at her watch, she was shocked at how much time had passed. “Carmen, if you could just tell me where I can grab Nicholas some clothes, I’d appreciate it.”

  Carmen nodded and walked through the entry and into an office. She gestured toward the middle of the room. “Everything is still in there. I’m not supposed to move it from where it was set when it was delivered, but I had to clean that floor. I thought I could get it back before Nicholas got home, but…”

  The rest of her words were lost in a rush of sound as blood started to pound in Jena’s head.

  That stupid, stupid box.

  She walked over and opened it slowly. The barest puff of scent, one that immediately said “home” to her heart, drifted out. Things looked like they had been moved around, and a stack of clean laundry rested on top. Her eyes filled, and she blinked rapidly to keep them back. Brushing quickly past the stacked laundry, she dug down until she found a soft, long-sleeve tee and a pair of old jeans. She set them aside, and plunged her hand in again, searching for underclothes. Jena remembered with shame emptying his drawer into a corner of the box before tossing the drawer on the floor. With surprise, she felt slight roughness against her fingertips, and she snagged the item before bringing her hand out of the pile. Pink lace emerged. His prize, reclaimed from her drawer.

  Jena leaned her hand against the edge of the box and dropped her head, trying to keep her shoulders from shaking as she cried. Compulsively shifting things around, she kept the scent swirling around her.

  Low voices spoke quietly, and then she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Jena?”

  “I did this, Mrs. Grady. How the hell could I make it harder than it already was for Nicholas? He probably didn’t think he had a home anymore. I…” Jena shook her head, unable to continue.

  “Sweetie, can I offer you a little advice?” Emma’s voice was gentle as she put her hand over Jena’s where it rested on the cardboard. Jena nodded.

  A strong, work-roughened hand turned her face until Emma could catch Jena’s gaze. The lake blue of her eyes was steady. “No amount of forgiveness you give to anyone else will mean a hell of a lot until you can forgive yourself and live with joy. And a little selective blindness and deafness, of course.” She smiled. “Jena, mistakes happen. People say things they don’t mean, do things they don’t mean. This—” she shook the side of the box “—this isn’t everything about your relationship. Not the whole story. Unless you let it be.” She brushed the tears off Jena’s cheeks with her thumbs. “Now. Let’s get over to see that man of yours. I’m sure he wants you.”

  “He said he did,” Jena said quietly, turning to pick up the clothes she’d dropped. “I don’t know…”

  “Was that today?” Emma asked, and Jena nodded once. “Well, then. You have your answer. Let’s go.”

  The drive back to the hospital was quick, and they were out of the car and struggling through the snow toward the entrance within minutes. As soon as they got close to the ICU, Jena spotted Nicholas. He looked tense as a bowstring as he paced the hall between his father’s room and the waiting room, running his fingers restlessly through his hair. Jena saw him raise the phone in his hand, hesitate, and then drop it back to his side.

  “Nicholas?” Jena said, and he turned his head. Relief flooded his face, and in a couple of strides she was being held tightly.

  “Please…don’t do that again,” he said roughly. “When I woke up and you were gone, I—” He chuckled jaggedly. “At first I thought maybe I just dreamed you were here.” Jena could feel his heart pounding. “Just…please don’t disappear on me again, okay?”

  She rubbed his back and squeezed him in return. “I’m sorry, Nicholas. I thought we’d get back before you woke up. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  He drew back and kissed her forehead. “Worry doesn’t even cover it. You scared the ever living shit out of me.”

  “Why didn’t you call when you woke up? I had my phone.” Jena ran her hand over his jaw as she studied his face, relieved that some of the shadows had disappeared from beneath his eyes and his color was better.

  “Didn’t want to seem desperate. Kinda blew that one just now, huh?”

  “Yep. Your cool factor just plummeted into the dirt, my boy. Now come hug me.” Emma’s amused voice came from behind Jena, and she jumped. She had almost forgotten Mrs. Grady was there. Now, five feet of energy was standing next to them, holding out her arms to Nicholas. With a final squeeze, he let go of Jena and hugged Emma, dipping his head to listen to her murmured words before he nodded.

  “Thanks, Emma. Dad woke up a little while ago and talked to Mom for a few minutes, but he’s sleeping again.” He tried to smile. “He still recognizes us, so that’s a good thing, right?”

  Mrs. Grady hugged him again. “You’re the doctor, Nicholas. If you say that’s good, I’ll take your word for it. Now, go change before you start to smell like a corn chip. I have boys; I know what’ll happen. Jena isn’t going anywhere. I’ll tie her to me if that’ll make you feel better. No one moves Momma G if she doesn’t want to be moved.”

  Nicholas laughed before taking his clothes from Jena. “True. I’ll just be a minute, Jena.”

  “Take more than a minute, my boy,” Emma called after him as he walked toward the men’s room. “We’ll still be here.”

  “Jeez, Mom, I think they could hear you at the front door.” Conor startled his mother by slipping quietly behind her and lifting her off her feet. Mrs. Grady squawked, and he chuckled.

  “What are you doing, you big eejit?” she scolded. “Hospital, remember? Sick people?”

  “Sad people who need a laugh, too,” Laura said, and Jena looked over to see her leaning in the doorway of her husband’s room with a tired smile. “Will’s sleeping soundly.”

  Conor lowered his mother shamefacedly and stepped to the side as Mrs. Grady walked over to Laura and took her hand. “I feel like I know you already, sweetie.” She pulled Nicholas’s mother into a tight hug. “You know Conor, of course. Shall we go have a chat? Conor, go get us coffee.” Without looking to see if her command was being followed, Mrs. Grady led Laura into the waiting room.

  Conor sighed. “I guess I have my orders. You want anything, J?” Jena shook her head, and he headed down the hall again, whistling.

  Jena slid down the wall to sit on the floor a few feet from the waiting room door. A hand stroked her hair, and then Nicholas slid down to sit on her other side, taking her hand. “Thanks for coming, Jena.”

  She waved a hand.

  Before he could answer, Mrs. Grady poked her head out the waiting room door. “Is my son back yet? We need coffee. And why are you sitting on the nasty floor? Come in here and sit down on the questionable couches.”

&n
bsp; Conor came walking down the hall, juggling three cups of coffee. He handed two to his mother as he kissed her on the cheek. “Here, you little dictator.” He handed Nicholas another cup. “Good to see you not looking like an extra for a zombie movie.” Extending a hand to Jena, he smiled. “Shall we go sit on the lumpy damned couches?”

  Nicholas laid a hand on Jena’s arm as she reached for Conor’s hand. “Just a second, Jena.” He looked up at Conor. “We’ll be in there in a minute, okay?”

  Conor looked at him curiously. “Sure.” He followed Emma, shutting the door softly behind him.

  Leaning back against the wall, Nick took a sip of his coffee and set the cup carefully to his side before taking Jena’s hand again. He turned it over so it was palm up in his hand and started tracing around her fingers with the index finger of his other hand, looking down with a serious expression.

  “Nicholas?” She dipped her head, trying to catch his gaze.

  He glanced up quickly and then dropped his eyes again. “Are we okay, Jena? Really?” he asked in a low voice. “Because I’ll probably act like an ass again. I’ll try not to do that, but…I’m sure it will happen at some point.”

  “Yeah,” Jena acknowledged.

  Nicholas started tracing the lines in the palm of her hand. “Jena, if this is going to work, you need to call me on my fuckery, okay? I don’t mean that you have to put up with it,” he said hastily, finally looking steadily into her eyes and flushing slightly. “I don’t expect that at all. I just need to know that you won’t shut me out again, okay? ’Cause this is too fucking hard to go through again.”

  Jena sighed. “Is that what the ‘you have all the power’ comment was about?” She shook her head quickly as she saw guilt and apology rise in his eyes. “Don’t. You were right. I acted like a kid again, and I’ll probably do it again, at some point. I’ve had it pointed out to me a lot lately that it’s a coping mechanism for me. My parents say hi, by the way.” Nicholas chuckled and pulled Jena’s hand into his lap, still playing with her fingers. Jena leaned her head against his hard shoulder, feeling his warmth. “I suck at communication, apparently, according to them. And Leisa. And Conor.”