To-Do Him List

by Denise Marie

  She bustled through the door with a couple bags; the rest could wait. “Mom, I’m home.” Silence “What is it with the damn silence.”

  She dropped her bags in the doorway to the living room, organized with its usual furnishings only hours ago, but now cleared out. Air mattresses, blankets, and pillows scattered the floor.

  She pivoted, glared at everything else kept in its usual place. Yep, she was in the right house. “Mom?”

  “Out back, honey.”

  Her errands had taken a lot longer than expected and night already darkened the sky. She tiptoed through the French doors and stood on the porch. A small fire blazed in the middle of the yard, with four female silhouettes huddled close to it. Her mother, Taryn, Katherine, and Abigail came into view as she neared, with roasted marshmallows, and wine in their hands. The image couldn’t be more perfect.

  She smiled when the smell of the burned wood drifted her way. “What’s going on?”

  Katherine handed her a glass of wine. “Slumber party. Carol’s brilliant idea.”

  She smiled with appreciation at her mom and mouthed the words “thank you.” She did that a lot these days with the people she loved.

  Carol nodded and dropped her attention to the orange flames.

  She fixed her gaze on her wine glass, now aware that her mother may have missed out on things while she made life perfect for her. No challenge dismayed her mom, troubles just disappeared.

  The fire cast the only glow of light around them. She studied the area around her that offered so many memories, not able to stop the tears as her gaze landed on the people who meant the most to her. With her free hand, she placed it to her heart. It still ached with need, for him.

  “Hey, did you show Carol your tattoo?” Taryn smiled.

  She brushed her tears away and glanced over at Taryn with wide eyes. “Not yet, thank you. Maybe we should take this party inside, where we can all show her.” She tipped her head to the side. That reveal included them as well. Thanks to him.

  They changed into their pajamas with tank tops that displayed their tattoos. Carol got out the camera and took pictures, all night. Even the girls snapped some with their phones. She smiled for all of them, but a knot in her throat made it difficult to talk at times. She could guess why this night took place; they’d remember it.

  The girls, Carol included, laid on the air mattresses and photo albums littered the room. She slammed a few books closed and hid them under her pillow. The ones from college she’d forgotten existed and her mother had never seen before.

  Carol gave her the look. She huffed and handed them over. She stared at her mother’s grin while she explored the past, nothing she did was wrong in her mother’s eyes tonight.

  She held up her hand and shook her head to stop Abigail when she passed her the album of her and David. Katherine shuffled over to sit beside her, made everyone laugh each time she faltered as her feet sunk into the mattress. Her focus was on the wine and book in her hands, which she saved from unwanted release with each unsteady step. She didn’t recognize the book. She folded her hands, and stared down at the lime-green album Katherine propped in her lap.

  Katherine nudged her in the shoulder. “Please open it, sweetie. I made it for you.”

  She sighed, set her wine down, and picked up the book. With her hand on the cover, she shook her head at the many anticipatory smiles, even her mom’s. Hesitation controlled her pace as she drew the cover open. Her gaze fell to the picture before her, the Scandals, her included. The pages were full of the pictures she texted while on tour with the band, their girls night out, and even the ones from the trash rags, as he put it.

  The last picture in the album filled the page, the day he kissed her at the airport for everyone to see. Goose bumps formed on her skin when she touched the picture and closed her eyes, felt again his lips on hers.

  ****

  Katherine took a long swallow from her wine while her best friend remembered, was reminded about a love unlike any other. When Isabelle closed her eyes, she could only imagine what Carol battled, to witness her only child suffer so much loss. Her glance up to the ceiling to hold back tears and a hasty retreat to the bathroom to hide, confirmed just how hard it was. Carol never hid.

  Katherine’s gaze snapped from the hallway to the familiar ring that sounded from her purse over in the corner. She stumbled to race for her phone, didn’t want Isabelle to be distracted from the memories she needed to process. Not find any reasons for regrets.

  She could recall many of her own with little effort. She stared at the display screen with her eyebrows scrunched together, glanced up to the clock and then down to her phone again. It was late and she didn’t recognize the number. With her thumb over the button, she peeked at the girls, now with their attention on her. Typically, she’d ignore it, but the urge to know who needed her would keep her awake tonight.

  She waved everyone off when they caught sight of her hesitation. “Hello?”

  “Katherine?”

  “Yep, who’s this?” She shrugged at the room of curious women.

  “It’s Cole Davies.” His voice had a sadness in it similar to Isabelle’s.

  She held the phone away from her ear, covered it with her hand, and pointed to the door. “Work. I’m going to take this outside.”

  They chattered once again, pointed with fondness at the pictures, and sipped their wine. She closed the door and glanced through the window to make sure no one followed. “Hi Cole.”

  “How is she?”

  She took a breath and leaned against the rail. Her best friend’s trust was not something she’d ever betray, but she wouldn’t let someone important slip away either. “Hang on a second. I’m going to send you a picture. Call me back when you get it? You can see for yourself.”

  She hung up and searched through the pictures she took out at the fire. Izzy didn’t think anyone caught her, but she did. The flame lit her face perfectly, showed the tears she hid with the quick tilt of her head. She captured it though, Isabelle in a weak moment. Her innocence created such beauty, but she couldn’t fathom it when others spoke of it. Revenge nagged at her to cause him pain, similar to what haunted her best friends’ eyes. She sent the picture and waited.

  Her phone rang again. “Well?”

  “She’s beautiful. Why is she crying? I can’t stand to be so far away from her, not hold her.”

  “She has decided to move back home with her mother. We are all here for a slumber party, of all things.” She laughed. “She’s torn. Her surgery is scheduled for two weeks from today and part of her still has a broken heart.”

  She wasn’t going to take it easy on him; he didn’t deserve that.

  He sighed. “She doesn’t know the story behind my relationship with Alexis. How she found out—” silence “I should have been the one to tell her.”

  She gripped the post beside her. If someone called her an ass right now, they’d be right. “I’m the one who told her. I don’t think you’d be surprised that a reporter for a tabloid would’ve heard gossip over the years.” She sat down on the step, the weight of that drunken night with her once again.

  “I understand you protected a friend whom you care about. What you and all other reporters don’t know is the truth. I haven’t rebutted the stories on purpose to shield Alexis from the pain I know too well, because of the tabloids. I don’t want to be disrespectful to you. I have read your work and you are good at your job. But, it’s your job that has given many males in my lifestyle challenges when it comes to trust, all because of the wrong camera angle.”

  Very true, how could she fault him for that? She placed her hand to her stomach. “I’m sorry. You are very right. I fight my boss daily about those stories, even refuse to write them. It’s a business I am not always proud of.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. If I tell you something, will it be in tomorrow’s cover story?”

  Gah. She sprung off the steps and paced the yard. The tone of his voice broke her
heart. She had a gut instinct he’d done nothing wrong, and the way she’d led Izzy on hurt them both. “I have given you no reason to trust me, but you can. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt Izzy.”

  He was quiet.

  “Alexis and I dated in university. It was a relationship full of wild rides and turmoil. She was the type of young, untamed, and immature woman men fantasized about. I’d reached my limit the second time she attempted to kill herself, or so I’d concluded, but I guess not. When I found her giving my roommate a very enthusiastic blowjob it damn near killed me. I didn’t know what to expect from day to day, high or low? When me and the guys hit it big, it was a blessing, I got to leave. Our first show back in New York, she was there to explain. Bipolar disorder. She still struggles but is in therapy. We are friends, nothing more.”

  Well isn’t that just peachy. For years, he wears a bad reputation, all to protect a woman. He is perfect.

  “I had no idea. I’m sorry I misrepresented you. You kept that secret very well. She needs to know.”

  “I know. We have nonstop shows for about a week and a half. I plan to come to her after, to make it right. I just hope she will forgive me.”

  She chewed on her nail, a habit broken a long time ago. “She’s booked her surgery, two weeks from today.”

  A thud, as if he’d hit a wall, echoed through the phone. “I’ll make it. I have to. Thank you. If anything changes, please call me, day or night. I don’t sleep much anyway.” His voice faded, as if he’d lost the strength to talk.

  She faced the house and spied on the girls. They talked, laughed even, but her heart hurt for him. “Okay. I have to get back inside. Take care. Same goes for you, day or night.”

  She hung up and stood, admiring the stars that shone bright on such a gloomy night. Anger unlike any other bubbled inside her, that this perfect man hadn’t come to her best friend sooner.

  She took a deep breath and rejoined the group of women as if nothing happened. But it had. Her best friend might die, and no amount of handholding would have the same effect as a man who loved her.

  “That took forever. What juicy story was that about?” Taryn grinned and rubbed her hands together.

  She scolded her with a glare and trampled over the bedding to the wine bottle with her empty glass. “As I have said a million times, Taryn, wait and see.”

  ****

  She peered at Katherine, who filled her glass, and then downed it. Something bothered her. What were best friends for? They notice things, like the nail biting and pacing out the window.

  Everyone settled into bed and said their good nights, but as the fast approach of another headache would determine for her, it wouldn’t be a good night at all. When peaceful, even breaths sounded, she crept over to the armchair in the corner of the living room and curled up under a blanket. The window view showed the calm glow of embers still ablaze in the backyard.

  She startled to a bang from the kitchen, still in the chair. It wasn’t much sleep, but she’d take it. The smell of bacon was always the best part of waking up in her mother’s home. Carol believed a successful day started with a full stomach. The girls smelled it too, hummed delightful noises of hunger, much different from the hungover moans on the bus.

  She sunk in her chair, lifted the blanket up to her chin, and waited for her best friends to come to life. She didn’t sleep well herself, but the fact they had comforted her.

  “Time to get up, ladies. Even though it’s the weekend, I know some of you have to work today. Breakfast first. Buffet style at the dining room table. Help yourselves.”

  The delicious aromas were a clear indication her mother outdid herself. They made their way, slowly, to a feast worthy of men. A pain, much like the stab of a knife, struck her head. The pressure she applied to it with her hand dulled it, a little. The chairs that scraped on the floor didn’t help but the sight of all the delicious food distracted her. It reminded her of the breakfast that had created such pride in his eyes. Guess there was more of her mother in her than she figured. She grinned. That must be what drummed up the pain.

  She sat back in her chair and held her stomach, didn’t want to break it to her mother that her appetite wasn’t as agreeable as it used to be. Her body gave her the, “are you kidding me warning signs,” but she ignored it and stretched for the dish of bacon.

  Many groans from the overindulged women filled the room while they sat back and enjoyed the coffee that would start their day off right. Carol relaxed in her chair at the end of the table, sipped her coffee, and stared at the women around her. It was as if she needed to brand it on her memory. She did love all the girls in her home, said often that she viewed them as daughters.

  She shook her head. A strange weak sensation traveled through her body, one she wasn’t familiar with. Her stomach churned. That she did recognize well. With her plate in her hand, she stood, but the room hazed in her sight.

  “Thank you so much, Mom. Have I told you lately I love you?” She shoved the chair with the backs of her knees and strode out of the room, fast.

  When she entered the kitchen, she opened her jaw wide, to pop her ears. She wasn’t too far from everyone, but they sounded so distant. She stood beside the kitchen island, rested her hip to the counter, but was no longer able to shift her feet.

  “What the…”

  ****

  A loud crash of dishes came from the kitchen. Carol, Katherine, Abigail, and Taryn flung their chairs back. Some fell over as they shoved to the kitchen, to the noise.

  “Call 911!” Carol yelled as she rounded into the kitchen first.

  Taryn ran for the phone but Katherine and Abigail stood there as Carol knelt on the floor, with Isabelle’s head in her hands. Her body convulsed. Seized.

  Carol jerked her head up, only long enough to make brief eye contact. “Abigail, go unlock the front door so the paramedics can get in. Katherine, go find a pillow for her head. We c-can’t do anything other than insure she doesn’t h-hurt herself.”

  She shouted out orders, ignored the warm tears that streamed down her face. She had to keep them busy; they shouldn’t see her this way, and she needed time to gather herself. Her throat tightened with each swallow as her daughter’s pale body bounced in her hand.

  Please God. Not yet.

  She could fall apart with ease, scream. If it were just her and Isabelle, she would, but she needed to be strong.

  Taryn ran in with the phone and knelt down beside her with the dispatch through the speaker. “911, what’s your emergency?”

  Taryn`s hand shook. “Taryn, please hold her head for me, j-just like this.” With slow motions, she showed Taryn what to do. “D-don’t let her head hit anything. Can you do that for me?”

  “Okay.” Taryn wiped the tears from her face, handed over the phone and got into position.

  Carol shut off the speaker and held the phone to her ear. “My daughter is having a seizure. She has an atypical meningioma, a brain tumor. We need an ambulance.”

  She gave the address but never averted her eyes from Isabelle. The trembles that shook her daughter’s body subsided, but she hadn’t regained consciousness either.

  She held the phone between her shoulder and ear, and placed her into the recovery position as directed by dispatch, just in time for her to vomit.

  She took the pillow from Katherine and set it under Isabelle’s head. Abigail ran out into the hallway and returned with a towel. She didn’t clean it away, just covered the vomit the best she could with nervous hands much like Taryn’s. It was the least of their worries right now. She mouthed a thank you, to Abby.

  She and Taryn stayed on the floor, stimulated Isabelle with touch, and checked her pulse while Abigail and Katherine paced. The paramedics couldn’t get there fast enough. They all cried.

  “Where is the damn ambulance?” Katherine yelled through her tears.

  No one responded; there was no point. They were all with her on that one. Just then, the sirens approached, fast.

&nbs
p; It wasn’t easy to stand back, let them take her. The women stood there, helpless. She answered questions but other than that, there was nothing they could do. Abigail held her own stomach as Isabelle’s lifeless body was wheeled away on the stretcher, secured in straps, and taken down the driveway, out to the ambulance. Taryn and Katherine squeezed each other’s hand for support. Not even her children, but she paid attention, always.

  “Girls?” She made eye contact with each of them. “I’m going in the ambulance with her. Get yourselves dressed and drive carefully to the hospital. Bring my purse, please. It’s on the floor beside my bed. If there is anything you think she may need, gather that too. Like I said, drive safe.” She climbed in the back of the ambulance, didn’t wait for the girls to respond. The short distance to the hospital didn’t offer much time to breakdown.

  ****

  Just as the paramedic tapped twice on the back of the closed ambulance door, Abigail hurried for the bushes, and heaved. Taryn sprinted into the house, not in any better shape.

  Katherine snagged her phone from her pocket. Why she kept it close by after her conversation with Cole last night was no longer a mystery; she would need it. She dialed his number and held the phone up to her ear. His life would never be the same.

  “Katherine, what’s wrong?”

  His voice sounded rough, sleepy. “C-Cole, she collapsed. The a-ambulance just took her away. It doesn’t look good.”

  “I’m leaving now. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Which hospital?”

  Now his voice grew strong, awake, and full of fear. After she gave him the information he needed, she hung up and closed her eyes to say a silent prayer.

  Please Izzy, not yet.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dear Diary,

  _______________________

  He held the scribbled paper in one hand and his chest with the other. His feet crashed into every sharp corner while he stumbled out of his bunk to the back lounge; he couldn’t breathe. The room spun, and faint voices trailed behind him.

  “Breathe, Cole.”