To-Do Him List

by Denise Marie

  A firm hand on his back encouraged him to sit on the edge of the couch and lean forward, head between his knees. “If you don’t get a breath in, you’re gonna pass out, and I’ll let you fall on your face. There is no way in hell I’ll be able to hold your dead weight on my own.”

  Drew. It was Drew’s voice. He fisted his hands over his face, and took a deep breath. His body vibrated from head to toe. Water hit his fingers, the spasms throughout him a result of his sobs. “I have to get to her.”

  Drew dislodged the paper from his fisted hand, but didn’t leave. “Brett, Zander. Get your asses in here.”

  Thumps from their feet as they dropped to the floor drew him out of his breakdown. He still couldn’t bring himself to glance up at their concerned faces.

  “We need to get there, now.”

  Paper crumpled in the distance. He took another breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. His senses returned to normal, but pain still radiated through his chest.

  “Tell Tony to cancel whatever shit he has planned for us indefinitely, until he hears otherwise. Get us on the first flight to Tampa, that hospital.”

  He sat back in the seat and used the hem of his booze-stained shirt to wipe his face. Through blurred eyes, he scanned the lounge. He sat in her seat, empty since the day she left. When he tore his attention from anguish strong enough to consume him at any moment, he raised his chin up to Drew, who stood helpless, with a tear tracking down his face.

  He spun around, wiped it away with the back of his hand, and kept his back turned. “Is she okay?” he whispered.

  “No. She just collapsed and was rushed away by ambulance.” He slammed his hand down on the pillow beside him and threw it. It knocked over empty beer cans on the table, shot glasses, and a pair of bright red panties floated to the floor. He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll make it there in time. The jet?”

  Drew huffed and sat beside him. “First of all, you aren’t going alone, we love her, too. The jet? Shit. It’s still in for repairs, man.”

  He stood up, weaved his fingers through his hair, and squeezed his hands, along with his hair, into fists. The sting didn’t replace the absolute worst pain in his heart. He stormed out of the room, stopped in the aisle, and braced himself on the nearest bunk. Brett and Zander were already packing. He took in Drew’s sympathetic smile over his shoulder.

  “I told ya dipshit, get packed.”

  ****

  “Shit. Did you not hear Carol when she said drive carefully?” Taryn yelled, and latched onto the armrest beside her when the car they’d just cut off blared its horn.

  “Yeah well, too bad.” Katherine gripped the wheel tighter. Taryn had a point, but if the idiot she pissed off had ever experienced this helplessness, he’d understand. She glanced up in the rear view mirror at Abigail, now with her attention out the window. Tears streamed down from under her sunglasses.

  The three women sighed when a close parking spot was vacated as they drove into the lot. She didn’t care. It would have been worth the tow to park right in front of the emergency room doors. They ran for the door. Only minutes had passed, but it seemed like hours.

  The doors swooshed open and cold air hit her in the face. Each woman halted in shock. Busy hustle swirled around them. Loud beeps and cries of pain came from all directions. Katherine scrambled for Taryn’s hand and didn’t need to actually see it, to confirm that Taryn had done the same with Abigail. They stood, frozen, searching the room using only movement from their eyes. Sweat formed between her and Taryn’s palms.

  “Over here, girls.” Carol waved them over to the counter and then resumed the paperwork in her hand.

  “Where is she?” Katherine asked, out of breath.

  “They took her up for a CT scan. She still hasn’t regained consciousness. They need to know what they’re dealing with.” She handed the nurse back the forms and pointed toward the elevator. The girls followed.

  The elevator doors closed. Abigail stared at the buttons, motionless. “Two.” Carol placed her hand on Abigail’s shoulder and offered all of the girls a motherly glance that didn’t reveal much.

  Katherine took a breath, couldn’t read Carol’s expression, but it wasn’t one she’d seen before.

  “They’ll take her into emergency surgery once they have a better understanding of her condition. They don’t get the sense her scan will show good news, that’s for certain. There’s a lounge where we can wait. The doctor will update us as much as he can.” She faced the corner and raised her hands up to cover her face, her body shook.

  Katherine and the girls surrounded her, held her up.

  Dr. Peterson was pacing the hallway when the elevator dinged and the door opened. He held his hand out in the direction of the waiting room. His dress shoes tapped the floor behind them, a sound she would never forget.

  “Ladies, please.” He held the door open.

  Once inside, he closed the door. Carol took a deep, anticipatory breath, and waited for the doctor with unshed tears in her eyes, a state she’d never seen Carol in before. Ever.

  “Carol.” He hugged her and then stood back. “The scan shows the tumor is placing pressure on her brain, more than it can handle. It hasn’t grown too much in size, which is good. Dr. Harris will perform the surgery, he’s the best.” The breath he took next was a clear indication it wasn’t good. “I must be honest. I am sure she filled you in with the odds?”

  The women all nodded at once and fastened their hands together.

  “That hasn’t changed.”

  Katherine tilted her head and glared at the doctor. “Dr. Peterson, I get the impression you’re attempting to lighten the blow. Stop it and just tell us, please.”

  The doctor shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay. The surgery is typically done with the patient awake. This allows the surgical team time to do tests throughout, for any signs of impairment. She hasn’t regained consciousness. We are forced to go in blind.”

  She ignored the doctor, and let her gaze follow Carol as she plodded with cautious steps to the row of uncomfortable blue chairs and sat. Her skin drained of color, as pale as Isabelle’s had been on many occasions.

  “Yes, get comfortable.” He raised his eyebrows to the rest of them as if to say you, too. “Dr. Harris has estimated a ten-hour surgery. I’ve cancelled my office appointments today and will observe. I’ll come out and update you as much as possible, but like I said, with Isabelle not able to show signs of deterioration, we won’t know much until after the surgery if—”

  When the doctor swallowed rather forcefully, Katherine sat beside Carol.

  “She regains consciousness. I’m sorry Carol, girls. I’ll be back when I know more.”

  Everyone sat in the chairs and stared at the closed door. She scrambled through her purse when her phone rang. It’d be him. “Hi Cole.”

  Everyone glared at her, but smiled when she shrugged without regret. He needed to be there.

  “We’re at the airport. I won’t be able to get there for at least three hours. Damn it.”

  In the background, the guys ordered him to calm down. “That’s okay. She’s going into surgery now and the doctor estimates at least ten hours. You aren’t going to miss anything other than us wearing out the floor.”

  His breath hiccupped. “Katherine?”

  She closed her eyes, expected the next question. “Yes.” Abigail sat down in the empty chair beside her and laced their fingers. Tears warmed her face.

  “Is she going to make it?”

  Taryn squatted in front of her, with the same tear-smeared face. “It doesn’t look good, but there’s no way to tell. I’ll explain more when you get here. Be safe.” She hung up. The torture in his voice only fueled her tears.

  “It was him who called last night, wasn’t it?” Abigail asked with a low voice.

  She couldn’t form words, just squeezed Abby’s hand and closed her eyes, tight. This horrible nightmare needed to end.

  ****

 
“Come on.” He flipped up the empty tray in front of him; a tiny piece of hard plastic broke free and flew into the aisle.

  His patience had worn thin on the tarmac, cooped up tight and at the mercy of another plane that disembarked before theirs. His jaw clenched, he surveyed the guys, also on the edge of their seats.

  “This is bullshit.” Zander’s anger wasn’t any better.

  Drew scrubbed his face and huffed. “A public spectacle isn’t going to make our exit out of here any faster, assholes.”

  His self-control had drained throughout the long flight and the many fake smiles for fans who requested pictures. Everyday life now cornered him in his own sense of hell. The plane finally steered into place, but he wasn’t interested in the attendants’ instructions for everyone to wait their turn. He led as they shoved their way to the exit door, toward the angered flight attendant. Brett marched beside him and flipped her off when she mumbled behind them. Tony would probably hear about it, but he didn’t care.

  Their smiles got them through security fast. No effort at disguise produced a crowd in record time and the employees worked double time. Each of the guys passed through, put on their sunglasses and hats, kept their heads down, and proceeded as Derek had trained them to for years—prudently. Drew took the time to explain they needed a quick exit and why.

  He stood with his hands in his pockets. A security guard rushed in their direction to usher them to a door away from the crowd. Someone explained to the mob of disappointed fans that they were sorry, but due to an emergency, they were unable to hang around.

  He knotted his hands in his lap and his knee bounced on the short cab ride from the airport. The guys were in rough shape, too, unable to remain still or speak.

  The car slowed in front of the emergency room door and Drew threw a wad of money at the driver. “Keep it.”

  They rushed out of the car but needed to slow down. The least helpful thing would be to get kicked out of the hospital. He texted Katherine just as they entered the lobby. He startled and swore under his breath when someone screamed.

  Hey, we’re here. Where are you?

  Send.

  Oh good. Second floor, turn right off elevators. OR Waiting Room #1.

  He kept his voice calm as he spoke to Brett and Zander. “Second floor, Waiting room one. I’m sure the girls could use some coffee and snacks by now. Can you take care of that?”

  The guys spun around until a sign for Starbucks caught their attention.

  Brett hit Zander in the shoulder. “Score. No cafeteria sludge for us.”

  Drew yanked on his arm. When the elevator doors closed, he jabbed two and then punched the wall. “Fuck.”

  Drew slapped him on the shoulder. “There’s a roomful of women who don’t need to see that shit, man. Get it together. She’ll be okay.” His gaze fell to his feet. “She has to be.”

  The hallway was quiet when they stepped out of the elevator, their destination only a short distance away. He and Drew stood outside the door, stared at it as if they would receive an electrical shock on impact. He took a deep breath. “Please God, give her back to me.”

  He opened the door and placed his hand over his stomach, where his heart landed. Four women sat there, silent, blank stares on their faces.

  A young, attractive woman with brown, curly hair jumped from her chair and ran to him, hugged him. “Thank God you’re here.”

  He smiled and hugged her back. A chuckle escaped him. “Bartender, reporter, or workaholic?”

  The beautiful redhead stood up and glared. “I’m not a workaholic.”

  Laughter filled the room. Each beautiful woman’s shoulders relaxed and smiles formed. If there were nothing else he and the guys could offer, it would be that.

  “Yes, you are.” Another attractive woman stood and hugged the cynical redhead before making her way over to him and held out her hand.

  He pried his arm out of the brunette’s embrace and shook it.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Cole, I’m Katherine.” She pointed to the woman who still clung to him and laughed again. “That would be the bartender and fan, Taryn.” She pointed at the redhead. “Abigail, the workaholic. It seems Izzy has given you a rather accurate description of the people who love her.”

  “Cole?” An older woman with many similarities to Isabelle shuffled up to him with puffy, red eyes. The same likeliness he imagined she had the day she left him. “I’m Carol, Isabelle’s mother.” She held out her hand, but he separated himself from Taryn and wrapped his arms around her.

  ****

  The tattoos and rough appearance screamed rocker, but he was gentle. She now understood what Isabelle explained to her yesterday. She relaxed and hugged him back; the smell of his cologne reminded her how long it’d been since she’d been held by a man.

  He leaned into her ear. “Thank you for giving me the most extraordinary woman. I love her more than anything in the world, even vanilla cookies.” He chuckled. “I’ll let her explain.”

  She took a step back and the passion in his eyes for her daughter took her breath away. “Let’s hope,” she whispered back.

  He pointed over his shoulder to the tall, thin, but well-built man behind him. “This is Drew. Any news, yet?”

  She held onto his warm, large hand and shook her head.

  The door opened and two more attractive, tattooed men rolled in a cart littered with coffee and snacks galore. “We didn’t know what everyone liked, so we bought at least one, um maybe more, of everything they had.”

  The younger one maneuvered the cart in and raised his hand to the door to close it but it resisted. The doctor jostled his way into the room. She smiled, and covered her mouth when the doctor’s eyes widened as he scanned the room. It didn’t faze the men whatsoever.

  Katherine stepped forward. “Dr. Peterson. This is Cole Davies, Drew Michaels, Zander Mills, and Brett Young.” She pointed to each of them as she spoke their names. “Also known as the rock group Scandals, and close friends of Izzy’s.”

  They stared at her with the same wide eyes as the doctor. She shrugged and smiled at Katherine, in awe of her protective nature. She would never have let Izzy leave with strangers. She probably had more information about them than they would want her to have.

  “Well then.” She appreciated the doctor’s dumbfounded stare.

  “Ahem.”

  She liked Cole already.

  The doctor slid the pale-blue cap from his head and held it in a tight fist at his side. “She’s still in surgery, of course. There isn’t much to say. Dr. Harris is doing the best he can, given the circumstances. There’s been a little more blood than he’d hoped, but he will manage it.

  “After the surgery, they’ll give her medicine that will place her in a coma. There will be swelling to monitor, which is normal to a certain extent, and then the rest will be up to her.”

  He stared down at his feet on his way to the door, offered everyone a solemn smile over his shoulder with his hand floundering in search of the knob. “I will let you know if there is any further information.”

  Silence filled the air, the only sound the door as it closed. There were no words, nothing to make it better.

  “I need some air.” What Carol really meant was I need to break down.

  Cole put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll come with you.”

  His attention to her every movement told her he didn’t want to leave her side, as if his connection to her daughter would help the two of them through this. A nice idea to hold onto. He was the man who’d completed her daughter; how could she ever repay him for that?

  They made their way in silence outside to the gazebo and sat on the bench. She covered her face and her body shook while sobs, sure to leave her a mess, consumed her.

  He tucked her into his side, even kissed the top of her head. “She’ll be okay. She has to be.”

  She wiped her face with the back of her hand and admired his handsome, caring eyes. Her daughter always did have a good head o
n her shoulders and wisdom in the choices she made.

  “Oh, I have something for you.”

  From the shock on his face when she dug out the book, he’d seen it before. The journal.

  She handed it to him. “I’m somewhat sure she would be okay with you reading this. I have no clue what’s in it. But if I were to guess by the memories written all over your face, you have a pretty good idea.” She smiled at him and sat with her hands folded in her lap.

  He took the journal, stared at it. A single tear fell from underneath his sunglasses. She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed. Before she was tempted to join him in his torment, break down too, she sat back and delighted in the world around them. The ambiance of Tampa could revive anyone.

  Sunday, a day of rest, would never be the same for her again.

  “If we’re lucky, she will wake up and hate me for letting you read it. I can live with that.”

  She didn’t want to peer over his shoulder, quicken his pace as he battled with his emotions. Just as the rest of them, though, the urge to help happened to be too difficult to ignore. She placed a supportive hand on his leg.

  He sat there for a long moment, just gawking at it. He sighed and opened the cover, would now find out what he meant to her daughter. The desperation on his face when he entered the waiting room told her he needed to know.

  He took his time. She could imagine that in his head her voice spoke the words as he read. When he finished, he closed the book and held it to his chest. The sun streaked his face through the gazebo slats above as he tipped his chin up. His eyes closed tight behind his glasses.

  “Well?”

  He wiped his face and sat up straight, but his knee bounced. “I can’t thank you enough. I am only sorry her time with me took her away from you.” He nudged her shoulder. “She talked very highly of you, a lot.”

  She smiled, hadn’t expected that. “I’m not sorry. There were moments yesterday when I was sure she thought about you. The longing in her eyes…” She rubbed her arms and he laughed, hard. She shook her head. “She does it too, hey?”

  “She was happy with David.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m glad.”