by B. N. Hale
“It’s about time you showed up.”
Tears blossomed in Reed’s eyes and he hugged her back, the embrace breaking the barrier in his heart. For several seconds he held onto the woman like she was a lifeboat and he was drowning. When they parted the man growled.
“Sheila,” he said. “He did this to her.”
“Harold,” she said, “sit down before you have an aneurism.”
He grunted and snatched his book before sitting down. Glaring at Reed, he folded his arms and muttered under his breath. Sheila turned her attention to Reed and offered them seats, which they accepted.
“This is Jackson,” Reed said. “My roommate, and the one who dragged me down here.”
“So he’s the one to blame,” Harold said with a grunt.
Sheila ignored him. “Thank you, Jackson. I always knew it would take a lot to get Reed to come back—especially after what Harold said to him.”
Harold jutted his chin out. “He’s the reason—”
“Harold,” she snapped. “He listened to her die. He’s suffered as much as we have.”
He grunted and stood. “I’m getting some coffee,” he said, and stomped out.
Sheila sighed, her eyes on his disappearing form. “It’s been three years but he still blames himself, not that he’d admit it. He’s not really mad at you, Reed.”
“I deserve my share of the blame,” Reed said.
Her eyes settled on him. “A drunk driver deserves the blame—all of it.”
“But I—”
“Did everything you could,” she finished with a nod. “Without you, she wouldn’t be alive. She frowned. “The doctors may disagree on that point. They say she’s dead already and want us to pull the plug. Of course, they don’t use those words. They say things like ‘very little brain activity’ and ‘chances of waking up are astronomically small’ and all that. Doesn’t make a difference. She’s still breathing so we keep praying.”
“I expected her to be thinner,” Reed said.
“Most coma patients gradually lose muscle mass, so when they do wake up they can’t move very well. The doctors here are using some sort of muscle stimulation to keep Aura in shape. I don’t know anything about it, it’s all doctor speak to me. They might as well be speaking Greek. But at least she seems to be doing better.” She picked up a set of crotchet needles and returned to the project she’d been working on. “It’s good to have you here.”
“Can she hear us?” Reed asked, his eyes on Aura.
“The doctors say no,” she said. “But I think she can.” She reached out and patted Aura’s arm. “Don’t you agree?”
Aura didn’t move, but Sheila smiled anyway. Reed and Jackson exchanged a look and Jackson shrugged. Reed wasn’t sure of what to say so he stayed silent. Content to sit, Sheila continued to work, the crochet needles clacking.
“How often do you come to the hospital?” Jackson asked.
“Every day,” she said. “Harold works on the weekends now. You should have come on the weekend to avoid him.” She laughed to herself and Reed and Jackson grinned at each other, the comment easing the tension.
“It’s good to see her,” Reed said.
“She’d be happy you came,” Sheila said, and then looked to Jackson. “Reed’s house was just five houses apart from ours. Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t,” Jackson said, and then glared at Reed. “He didn’t even tell me the whole story until a few weeks ago.”
“Can’t blame him for that,” she said. “After what he went through, I can understand why he doesn’t talk about it. But Reed and Aura were like two peas in a pod for more than ten years. They did everything together, spent every minute side by side. But it wasn’t until they were oh, sixteen? Then he started to like her for real.”
“You knew?” Reed asked.
Sheila laughed. “I always knew. You didn’t act on it, of course. You were afraid it would change your friendship. You didn’t ask her on a date until it was too late, and she was already dating Tim. Of course, this was before Reed changed, before he figured out how to date.”
“How do you know how I date?” Reed asked.
“I keep in touch with your mother,” Sheila said, a sly smile flashing across her face. “But if that wasn’t enough, I’ve been watching the website of your dating life with Kate. You make a good couple.”
Reed looked to Jackson, but he shrugged helplessly. Reed wondered how he could have forgotten Sheila’s intelligence. She may have looked like a grandmother, but he’d been a professor of psychology until Aura’s accident, when she’d retired.
“My favorite was the color war,” Jackson said. “I’ve already signed up for next year.”
The needles stopped clacking. “You’re the Jackson mentioned in the posts. You’ve done good work, especially bringing him to Miami. Reed needs to get over Aura so he can be with Kate.”
“What?” Reed asked. “You want me to be with Kate?”
“Of course,” she said, resuming her crochet. “You can’t very well wait for my daughter. She might never wake up.” She patted her daughter’s leg. “I don’t mean it dear. I know you’ll wake up.”
“I don’t understand,” Reed said.
She lifted her project and examined it for flaws. “You’ve carried your crusade long enough. It’s time to let her go.”
Harold shuffled back into the room and sank into the seat like he wanted to punish it. Then he unfolded a sandwich and began to eat, his eyes never leaving Reed. The seconds ticked by but Reed did not look away.
“I’m sorry,” Reed murmured.
Harold wiped his mouth with a napkin and put the sandwich on the bed.
“Not on the bed, dear.”
He picked it up with a scowl and moved it to the table.
“You should have called faster,” he said. “They would have been able to—”
“No they wouldn’t,” she hummed.
“Woman, will you let me speak?”
“No,” she said firmly. “This boy has been hurting just like you and me. He doesn’t deserve your anger. He deserves an apology.”
“You want me to apologize?”
“Yes.”
Harold’s frown deepened and he looked out the window. Reed opened his mouth to say the man didn’t need to apologize, but Sheila’s eyes flashed dangerously. He shut his mouth. Jackson hid a smile.
“I shouldn’t have to . . .” Harold began, and then growled and stabbed a finger at him. “You know what . . .” he shook his head. The seconds passed until he looked to his wife and she nodded. Then he seemed to wilt. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the muscles spasming in his face.
Tears formed in his eyes and he wiped his face in shame. Then he turned to the bed and wound his fingers into Aura’s hand, more tears flowing down his cheeks. In silence, he cried, all the while massaging her hand.
“I’m so sorry . . .”
Reed stood and moved to him. Unable to speak, he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. He expected Harold to shrug him off or lash out, but he stared at Aura until he wiped his eyes. Then abruptly Harold stood and wrapped his arms around Reed, holding him like he wanted to crush the life from his lungs.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for saving my girl.”
The room blurred through new tears. The emotions Reed had buried for years burst from his chest and he hugged Aura’s father, yearning to fix what had happened yet knowing it could not be fixed.
Abruptly the man pulled away and sniffled. He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and then clapped Reed on his shoulder. Beyond him, Sheila rose to her feet and folded her project neatly.
“Now isn’t that better?” she asked.
Harold didn’t answer, but he met Reed’s gaze and nodded. Sheila came around the bed and took Harold’s hand, pulling him towards the door. He didn’t resist, and followed her past Jackson. Then he seemed to realize what was happening.
“Where are we going?”
�
��Time to leave,” Sheila said. “Let’s go to lunch.”
“I already have a sandwich,” he said, gesturing to it.
“I know,” Sheila said. “But we need to go.”
“Why?” Harold asked, taking another step towards the door.
“Don’t you see?” she asked, meeting Reed’s gaze and offering a small nod. “He’s here to say goodbye.”
Chapter 4
Harold met Reed’s gaze and then turned and walked out. With a final nod, Sheila departed, leaving Reed and Jackson alone in the room. After a moment’s hesitation, Jackson stood and walked to the door.
“Jackson?” Reed asked.
He smiled and gestured to Aura. “I brought you this far, but I think you need to finish on your own.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Talk to her,” Jackson said. Then he walked out and shut the door.
Reed stared at the barrier, afraid to look at Aura. It seemed stupid to talk to an unconscious person but words bubbled up, the words he’d been afraid to speak, the words that had swollen in his chest.
“I should have come sooner,” he said softly.
Reed sighed and took Sheila’s chair, shifting it so he could look at Aura. It had been three years since he’d seen her, and the last time she’d been in a hospital bed as well. After the accident he’d come to see her every day. Then the diagnosis had been given and Harold had threatened him if he ever returned.
Reed leaned back in the chair. “I met a girl,” he said. “Her name is Kate and I really like her. You’d like that, if only because it meant I wasn’t still in love with you.” He grimaced and looked away. “But then, I never did tell you how I felt.”
“I should have,” he said. “When I took you on that date the moment came and I tried. But deep down I knew you didn’t feel that way for me and I was a coward. I know you didn’t want to hear it but I should have told you the truth. Then maybe you wouldn’t be lying in that bed.” He sighed, his thoughts drawn to the last time she’d been alive.
Three Years Earlier
Reed checked his hair in the mirror and then raced to his car, waving to his mom as he walked out the door. She hardly noticed his departure, her eyes glued to Dancing with the Stars like it was the moon landing. The Camry he’d had since high school groaned to life and he pulled onto the road.
He hadn’t seen Aura in two years, not since he went to Colorado. He’d tried to catch her on previous trips, but she’d been off at her own school in Gainesville. This time he’d planned a day specifically for when she would be home, and convinced her to go on a date.
He rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants and looked in the mirror. Did it look like he was sweating? He cringed and turned on the AC, blasting it in an attempt to cool off. He’d hoped going to school in Boulder would help him move on, but his feelings had only grown in her absence. And the last few months she’d responded less and less to his calls.
The widening gap had been painful, but she wouldn’t explain. Every time he asked what was going on she laughed it off and just said she was busy. It was a lie and they both knew it, but Reed didn’t want to call her out. He didn’t want the answer—at least not over the phone.
He pulled into Aura’s parents’ house and turned down the AC. Then he got out and walked to the door, irritated that he was already hot. He hoped she wouldn’t notice his nervousness. Their friendship had always been easy, and acting like he was pining would sink him before he had the courage to speak.
He took a breath to steady his nerves and then knocked on the door. A moment later Harold swung the door open and smiled, motioning him inside. He called out to Sheila and she appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Reed,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel so she could give him a hug. “Where have you been?”
“Still in Boulder,” he said. “Just classes and work, the usual.”
“It’s been too long,” Harold said as Sheila stepped away. He offered his hand, which Reed accepted. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Dinner,” he said. “Then a movie, I think. Is Galaxy Diner still her favorite?”
“It closed down a few months ago,” Sheila said. “Didn’t you hear?”
Reed’s smile faded. “I didn’t, actually.”
“Take her somewhere nice,” Harold said. “Maybe you can talk her out of dating that trashbag—”
“Dad,” Aura said, appearing at the top of the stairwell. “You promised you wouldn’t call him that.”
They all turned and Reed sucked in his breath. Aura was radiant, with a sleek black shirt and blue jeans. Her blond hair was curled and hung down her cheeks, falling in ringlets onto her chest. She smiled at Reed, and he could have melted into the floor.
“Hey, Reed,” she said, coming down the stairs. “It’s been too long.”
“Far too long,” Reed agreed.
She opened her arms and he stepped into the embrace. The press of her body was soft and warm, and he breathed deep of the scent of her hair. How could it be so intoxicating after so long? How could it bring back so many memories?
They parted and stood awkwardly for a moment as Reed wracked his brain for something to say, but the power of speech had abandoned him. As he mentally cursed his weakness, Sheila picked up Aura’s purse and handed it to her.
“What time will you be home?” she asked.
Aura shrugged. “Whenever. Reed and I have a lot to catch up on.”
“That we do.” Reed smiled, immensely grateful that words had returned to his lips.
Aura tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped to the door. “Goodnight!”
Reed nodded to them, but Harold’s expression was almost a grimace. His gaze was on Aura’s back, suggesting the animosity was not directed at him. Then Harold caught him looking and shook his head.
“Remember what I said,” he muttered.
“Harold,” Sheila said, swatting him with the towel. “Leave them be.”
He grunted and shut the door. As Reed walked to the car he wondered what had set Harold on edge. Reed knew Aura was dating someone, but hadn’t realized her family did not approve. They climbed into the car and Aura shifted in her seat to look at him.
“What?” he asked, turning the car on.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” she said. “Same car, same clothes. Even same hair.”
“Is there a compliment hiding in there?” he asked. “And for the record, my clothes are new.”
“You look good,” she said with a smile.
“You look great,” he said, causing her to laugh.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I was going to take you to Galaxy,” he said. “But your parents said it shut down?”
“A few months ago,” she said with a nod. “A lot’s changed in the last two years, and every time I come back it seems more different.”
“How about the Olive Garden?” he asked, voicing the first restaurant that came to mind.
“I’m always up for Italian.”
“How are classes?” he asked.
As he drove into town they shared stories of classes and work, filling in the gaps of the last two years. Their friendship had always been perfect, and they talked about current and past events. As they passed old haunts they laughed about old stories.
Despite the closeness, Reed sensed a rift between them, an unspoken canyon that put them miles apart. He guessed it had to do with the guy she was dating, but she hadn’t spoken of him, and he wondered if he could ask. He was nervous and hoped he wouldn’t start sweating again. As he parked at the Olive Garden she smiled.
“Are you going to ask or not?”
“Ask what?”
“Who I’m dating.”
“I am curious,” he admitted.
She laughed lightly, the sound warming his chest. “His name is Tim.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s a good guy,” she said.
She described him as a football
player from Kansas, and talked about his looks and his smile. But Reed noticed she said little about his character, and her smile seemed a little forced. It was the same smile he’d given his mom when she’d asked how his class was going. He’d said good, but it was a lie.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
“I am,” she said, and the fixed smile appeared.
Reed smiled as well, but it was one of hope. If Tim really was a trashbag, then Reed had a chance. He got out and hurried around to open her door. She opened it first and shut it, smiling at his effort.
“It’s a date,” he said. “Am I not supposed to open your door?”
She laughed. “I already have a boyfriend. I can’t call this a date.” Then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Even if it should be.”
His hope soared.
Chapter 5
Their dinner was a trip down memory lane, each story eliciting laughter. Throughout the meal he watched her, gauging her reaction, trying to find the right time to tell her how he really felt. One opportunity came but his courage failed him.
“Do you remember when we met?” Reed asked, mentally cursing his weakness.
She smiled and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Miss Perkins’s classroom, third grade. We were paired with each other and began to draw. The desk became a casualty and she had to separate us.”
He grinned, recalling that the artwork had sprawled across both desks. “I thought it was magnificent, but to this day I cannot recall what we were trying to draw.”
“Principal Harrison,” she said. “But we couldn’t capture his belly. Miss Perkins did not find it as amusing as we did.”
“How many classes did we have together?” he wondered aloud.
“A lot,” she replied. “Third, fifth, and sixth grades in elementary school, and at least four in middle school.”
“Don’t forget gym.”
She shuddered. “I hated that class.”