When Worlds Collide (My Kind Of Country Book 3)

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When Worlds Collide (My Kind Of Country Book 3) Page 3

by M. Lynne Cunning


  Katie put some milk into her coffee and paid the lady behind the counter for both cups, waving off Jillian when she tried to pay Katie back. “You talk, I’ll buy the coffee.”

  “I’ll remember that when we reverse roles.”

  They found a table close to the door. Good, Barry and Mason would find her easily if they came looking. She instinctively pulled her cell out of her pocket, seeing another blinking message from Jay. He could wait.

  Jillian took a sip from her cup, her eyes on the phone. She’d seen the blinking light indicating a message. “You got a call to make?”

  “It isn’t nearly as important as this. Start talking.”

  She watched as the woman set her cup down, shoving her hands under the table. Nervousness; Katie could recognize it anywhere. “Dad didn’t sell Chad’s guitar.”

  “Okay. So, why would Chad say he did?”

  “Because he thinks he did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my dad lets him think he did.”

  So few words had been spoken, but Katie was already lost. She shook her head, spreading her hands out on the table. “You’re speaking in riddles. Why would your father let Chad believe that when it’s not true?”

  “It’s easier to handle than the truth.”

  “Which is?” Katie sounded exasperated, desperate.

  “Chad’s the one who sold it. He did it himself.”

  Katie’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “What? Then why does he think your father—”

  “He doesn’t remember, Katie.”

  She stared at her, silent. She was on the edge of the truth now, her toes curling to keep herself from falling.

  Don’t make me ask you why, Katie pleaded, mutely. Just tell me.

  “He sold it at some pawn shop. For drugs.”

  Jillian could have said anything—anything—and Katie would have nodded, believing her.

  Anything but that.

  “Chad...” Katie stopped herself, though. She wanted so much to laugh at her, to scoff at the idea and tell Jillian that there must be some mistake. “But Chad doesn’t touch that stuff. I mean, he hardly drinks, let alone...” Nothing she was saying could explain away Jillian’s statement. Katie’s mind was so muddled and confused, she couldn’t string together a coherent sentence. “Christ. You’re telling me he did drugs?”

  “Cocaine, mostly. From what I know of, anyway.”

  Katie was shaking her head profusely. None of this fit with the image of the mild-tempered, easygoing man she’d come to know. Come to love. Could she really love someone and not know anything about him? “Damn it,” she whispered. She raised her gaze from the table. “Tell me everything. I’ll just listen. Right now, I don’t think I can form adequate questions, anyway.”

  Jillian took a long drink of her coffee, undoubtedly to fortify her. “Okay. I’m not exactly sure when he sold the guitar, but Dad knew he’d done it. So, when Chad came home one night and got in Dad’s face about it, flat out accusing him of selling it for alcohol, things definitely got heated. It escalated quickly, screaming and yelling. I was in my bedroom, but I could hear doors slamming and—there was just so much yelling.” She took a breath, recollected herself, and began again. “When I came downstairs, I could tell immediately that Chad was high out of his mind. Which was scary enough without the fact that Dad was nowhere near sober.”

  “Your father was an alcoholic. That much was true in what Chad told me?”

  Jillian shrugged, having obviously resided herself to the fact. “He was what some people would refer to as a functioning alcoholic. Always had alcohol on his breath, but never missed a day of work or a social engagement. Belligerent when he wanted to be, though.”

  Katie nodded, willing her to go on.

  “Anyway, Chad and my dad were always at each other’s throats about something, but not like this. My mom was crying, and Chad was screaming about how Dad had sold the only thing he cared about. He deemed that guitar his guaranteed ticket out of town. Twelve years later, look at him now. I guess he was right.” Jillian gave a small smile, her pride slowly giving way to the bitterness that edged her next words. “It wasn’t the first time he’d raked my dad over the coals for not believing in him,” she said in a small voice. “But it was the first and last time he beat him almost beyond recognition.”

  Katie’s hand reached up to cover her mouth, swallowing down the gasp that was stuck in her throat. “He beat your dad?”

  Jillian just nodded, her eyes never leaving the table in front of her. “He beat Dad unconscious, then collapsed himself.”

  “My God.” Tears were stinging Katie’s eyes. Her emotions had been running high before their conversation. Finding out this, though? She didn’t even know where to begin in dealing with it.

  “Yeah, I know,” Jillian nodded, wrapping her hands around the cup again. “What makes it all so crazy, being here right now, is this isn’t Chad’s first time being in a coma.” Her eyes rose to meet Katie’s gaze. “My mom had to call two ambulances that night. One for Dad, and one for Chad.”

  “This can’t be real.” Katie never meant to say the words out loud, but there they were, in a hushed, disbelieving whisper.

  “I wish it wasn’t, trust me.” Jillian straightened her posture. “It’s a horrible story, I know that. But some good came out of it, too.”

  Katie’s eyes widened, and Jillian immediately held her hands up in surrender.

  “Wait, just hear me out,” she said. “Yeah, Dad was beaten badly, and he walks with a limp now. But, Katie, my father never—not once—had another drink after that. Never.”

  Katie reached up to run her fingers through her hair, realizing for the first time that her coffee was mostly untouched. “I guess something good did come out of it, then.”

  “I know. And Chad, he was in a coma for almost two months at that time. Cocaine overdose. When he came out of it...”

  “He had no recollection of the fight,” Katie finished for her.

  “Those entire few days were lost to him. He didn’t know what happened to his guitar, didn’t know about the fight with Dad...and had made it through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms while he was in the coma.”

  “Chad had been two months drug-free,” Katie said it like she was talking about someone else other than Chad Kirkwood. In essence, she was. She didn’t know the Chad Kirkwood that Jillian spoke of, and she prayed to God she never did.

  “He had a clean slate. A second chance. A chance to start over.” Jillian stated. She was proud of Chad, and who he’d become. That was obvious.

  “But he and your father...”

  “When Dad realized that Chad remembered none of it, he swore us all to secrecy. He refused to tell Chad what happened to the guitar and let him think whatever he wanted to, which is that Dad’s the one who sold it and that he didn’t care about Chad’s desire to become a singer. After that, he got him out of town the only way he knew how, with a wad of cash and a bus ticket to Nashville. Anything to keep him away from the old life he’d led.”

  “Chad never forgave your father for what he thinks he did.” It was a sad fact, and even to Katie’s own ears, it evoked an unnecessary loneliness.

  Jillian nodded. “Exactly. He thinks Dad paid him off to get the hell out of town, and I guess he technically did. But not for the cruel reasons Chad thinks he did.”

  There were so many questions Katie wanted to blurt out, but she didn’t even know where to begin. “There’s one thing I’ve got to know. You’ve talked to Chad sporadically over the years. Does he even know he had a drug problem when he was younger? He must.”

  “Honestly? He’s never mentioned it. Not once.” Jillian chugged a mouthful of coffee, which, by now, must be ice cold. “Do I think he knows? Absolutely. On some level, anyway. But it’s a dark place for him, something he doesn’t ever want to have to think about again.”

  Katie opened her mouth to respond, but a shrill, off-pitch sound erupted from close behind her chair, startli
ng her. If there hadn’t been a lid on it, she’d have spilled her coffee all over the table. She turned to come face to face with Mason, his smile so big his eyes were squinting. He held up the harmonica and laughed again.

  “You and that harmonica,” she laughed, pulling the boy in for a hug. The faint smell of cinnamon came from him, and Katie idly wondered what Barry and his wife had let him eat for breakfast this morning. “How was your impromptu sleepover at Barry’s house?” She gave a small wave toward Barry, who was getting himself a coffee, then she pushed Mason away gently to look him over. He was still in the same clothes he’d donned the night before, but he seemed content enough, and that’s what mattered.

  “Good. I brought the recording I made for Chad.” Mason pulled a plastic case from inside his zip-up sweatshirt. A shiny compact disc showed through the transparent casing, the words ‘For Chad, Love Little Man Mason’ scrawled across it in typical shaky, uneven childlike writing. “How is he, Ms. Mom?”

  “Still sleeping. He needs time to heal, Mase.” Katie didn’t know what to tell him. She suddenly remembered Jillian was still sitting across from her, and she pointed toward her. “Mason, this is Jillian. She’s Chad’s sister.”

  Mason cocked his head to one side, his stare rising and falling back toward the floor as he assessed the woman before him. “I can tell. You kind of look like Chad.”

  “And you kind of look like your mama, too,” Jillian offered him a soft grin, holding out her hand as though he was an adult and not the bright-eyed young boy he really was. It’s been mentioned to Katie on more than one occasion that her son acted very mature for his age. She didn’t need anyone to remind her of that.

  At Jillian’s statement, Mason glanced sideways at Katie and scrunched up his nose in distaste, making both women laugh, then he shook her hand quickly. His face lit up at having had the chance to be the joker in such a solemn atmosphere. “Everyone says that,” Mason replied finally. He looked from one woman to the next. “Can I go see him?”

  Mason’s glance landed on Jillian as he asked the question, and the startled, blank expression on her face told Katie two things. The first was the Jillian didn’t have much in the way of experience with children, and the second was that she didn’t like the idea of a child so young being subjected to the cruel reality of Chad’s current condition. Wisely, though, she raised her eyes to Katie, silently pleading for her to come up with the right answer.

  “Visiting hours aren’t until later, Mase. Maybe then, okay?” She wasn’t sure she wanted him to see Chad yet, either.

  A few doctors and nurses had come into the cafeteria while they chatted, and Katie looked up in search of Barry, only to see Hayden and Elaine heading in through the double doors of the entrance. The couple looked worn out, deflated, and they’d only been here a matter of hours. It pained Katie to think that, no matter how hard this was for her, it was their son laying in that hospital bed fighting for his life. The grief, the gripping fear that must be coursing through their veins right now...

  Katie stole a quick glance in Mason’s direction. No, she just could not imagine what Chad’s parents must be going through. And by the sound of it, they’d already been through so much as it was. Now, to have something like this happen? She reached out and pulled her own son against her, mostly because she could.

  “Did you tell her...the truth?” Hayden’s voice wasn’t gruff, exactly, but Katie did pick up on the fact that he’d referred to her without the use of her name or even a glance in her general direction. He seemed even more rigid in posture than previously.

  Jillian leaned back in her chair, offering her father a curt nod. “Katie knows, Dad. After all these years, someone other than the four of us knows what actually happened that night.” Chad’s sister nodded in Katie’s direction, the intentness in her eyes meant solely for Katie. I hope you know how monumental that is, her stare announced.

  “And does that change anything for you?”

  It took Katie a moment to realize that Hayden was addressing the question to her, and she abruptly raised her eyes steadily to meet his. “Everything, actually. But, in a way, it also changes nothing at all.”

  Every pair of eyes were on her, quizzical. Hayden opened his mouth to speak—Katie assumed he was about to ask what in God’s name she meant by that—but Jillian interjected first.

  “Everything changed,” she said. “It was the best thing and the worst thing to ever happen to our family.”

  As Katie watched her, she idly wondered if Jillian realized she was speaking out loud. Suddenly, she lifted her head and stared sadly at her.

  “We got our Chad back from the throngs of his addiction,” Jillian said. “But we lost him, anyway.”

  It was Katie’s turn to arch a brow at her in askance. At that moment, however, the overhead paging system suddenly rang out loudly throughout the cafeteria and hallways.

  Code Blue, ICU, Room 204. I repeat, Code Blue, ICU, Room 204.

  The doctors that sat around one of the tables on the other side of the room didn’t hesitate, leaving their Styrofoam coffee cups and paper plates were strewn across the table. They disappeared out of the room in a rushed huddle, but a pin drop could have been heard amongst the momentarily stunned faces of the Kirkwood family and Katie.

  Code Blue. She’d heard the words so many times during her years as a nurse on the oncology ward but never had they evoked so much fear in her as they did now. The code stood for a medical emergency, usually cardiopulmonary arrest, and right now that patient was in Room 204.

  Chad’s hospital room.

  She grabbed Mason firmly by the hand and followed in the wake of the doctors, breaking into a run by the time she reached the doorway.

  Chapter Four

  One of the nurses intercepted Katie’s attempt to get into Chad’s hospital room, using her most polite and soothing voice to try to calm her down. The nurse’s firm grip on her arm and less-than-gentle push away from the ICU doors said more than the woman’s words could. Katie didn’t know what she planned to do if she made it into the room, anyway, but she’d already tucked Mason behind her to obstruct his view. She may not have been able to do anything more than the doctors and nurses were, but she damn well wanted to be in there with him.

  From where she stood, she could hear stern voices shouting orders. A female voice announced a soft blood pressure reading, her voice tight with seriousness. Monitors bleeped wildly, and for a moment, Katie was thankful she couldn’t see what was happening. If it was anything like the image forming clearly in her mind, it would petrify her even more.

  “What’s happening?” she demanded, but Katie knew the nurse couldn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know. Chad was on a controlled dose of anesthesia to induce coma, and he’d had multiple surgeries in an attempt to repair his multitude of injuries. As strong as she knew he was, he was in a fragile state. His body was working hard to repair itself, while numerous potent medications were being pumped into him for anesthesia, pain control, and infection prophylaxis. She would be a fool not to see how many things could actually go wrong in such a compounded situation.

  “As soon as I know, you will, too,” the nurse assured her.

  She listened for another moment, craning her neck as though somehow she could see around corners, and was surprised at the sudden light touch she felt on her elbow. Katie turned to face Elaine, tears brimming on her bottom eyelids.

  “Come and sit, honey. Let those doctors do their job. We need them to focus on him right now.” Elaine wasn’t forceful or brash, but she got her point across. There was nothing Katie could do for him, no matter how badly she wanted to. There was nothing any of them could do for him.

  Katie guided Mason, wide-eyed and fearfully quiet, to the end of the hallway to the waiting room. She vowed, after all this was said and done, once Chad was released from hospital, if she ever saw the inside of another hospital waiting room, it would be too soon.

  Elaine gestured to her to take the seat between
her and Jillian. Hayden, it seemed, meant to sit across from them on the other side of the room and concentrate on staring blankly in the direction of Chad’s room. He obviously didn’t do too well with helplessness, either.

  An awkward silence ensued, with frequent glances toward the hallway to see if the doctors were coming to tell them what was going on. Mason lowered himself onto the floor in front of Katie, his back leaning against her knees. There were other chairs he could sit in, but something told Katie to leave him be. If he found any sort of comfort in being in close proximity to her, then she wouldn’t begrudge him that; not at a time like this.

  “What did you mean—” Elaine began to speak, but Hayden had obviously had the same inclination.

  “At least we lost him for the right reason before,” Chad’s father mumbled. “But this way...”

  Katie looked at Jillian, then to Elaine. “The right reasons?”

  For the first time since sitting down, Hayden turned his attention to Katie. “Losing him to an overdose; I couldn’t have lived with that. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. Losing him to Nashville, though?” The man’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “I’d like to think that I made the right choice on that. Like this, though?” He waved a hand toward the hallway where Chad’s room was located. “Losing him like this; this could be the worst.”

  Guilt washed over Katie again at the thought that this all happened because Chad had been searching for her. She squeezed her eyes shut, giving herself a second to pull herself together. She opened them again and saw clearly that neither Jillian nor Elaine intended to respond to Hayden. Looking at him, it didn’t seem that he expected a response. He’d already gone back to staring down the hallway.

  Another bout of tense silence plagued them, and Katie glanced sideways at Jillian. “Where does Liz fit in all of this?”

  “Funny, we’re still trying to figure out the same thing about you, my dear.” The amusement was hidden from Elaine’s face as Katie whirled around to face her, but the older woman’s eyes shone with a determined pleasantry that made Katie’s face heat up.

 

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