by Jayne, Kris
“You’re impossible.”
She cradled her father’s rough, thick-fingered hand in hers. He looked terrible and fantastic.
His usually caramel skin had nearly all the gold washed out, but her mother had been right. Spirit and humor shined through his dark chocolate eyes. Alexa tried to avoid looking at the arm bent and strapped to his left side by bandages and a sling.
She wanted to ask him how this could have happened. She wanted every detail to determine what went wrong so it could never happen again, but she didn’t want to hear it. None of it—the horror of gunshots, fear, and blood. She wrapped her arms around her stomach.
“You cold? I can have the nurse turn up the thermostat.” Carlisle’s hoarse grumble made Alexa smile.
“No. I’m not cold. And I wouldn’t want to bother the nurse with that.”
“I thought your mom said you were coming up with Taryn? And she said something about Jeff. I was half out of it.”
“I stopped on the way, and Jeff drove us from Dallas. They thought they’d let me come in and see how you were before we all descended on you.”
“Go get ‘em. I could use more company and a little dose of Taryn. That girl is like blood transfusion.”
Her father’s smile cracked, his mouth slightly whitened along the edges. Twisting around on the stool, Alexa saw a water pitcher and plastic cups in the corner of the room. She patted her father’s hand and got up. “I’ll get them. Do you want some water?”
“Yeah. I’m a pint low, I think—even though they got me all stuck up like pin cushion with this IV.”
“When did the doctor say you could go home?”
“Maybe tomorrow as long as I don’t have a fever. I tell you, girl, I can’t wait. The air in this place chokes you.”
She started to hand her father the cup, but thought better of it and tipped the bendy straw to his gray, parted lips. He raised his head a fraction of an inch and took a few sips, then waved it away. “That’s good. Thank you.”
He dropped his head back to the pillow and let out a sigh, closing his eyes.
To see her strapping, cop father exhausted by the infinitesimal effort brought a fresh pool of tears to the back of her eyes, and she rushed out, telling him she would bring back his niece and nephew-in-law.
The door clicked behind her, and the dam burst. No sobs came, just rivers of tears frustrating her vision.
“Honey, do you need something?”
Alexa blinked with fury and wiped her eyes with her fingertips. A short, broad man pushing a cart stood before her, and the hallway in each direction looked the same. “Which way is the family waiting room?”
The orderly pointed around the nurse’s station at the end of the corridor. “To the right, through the double doors. Go straight, and about half-way down before you get to the elevator, you’ll see it. I can walk with you if you’d like.”
The man’s blue eyes rounded.
“No. I can find it. I’m fine.” She smiled to erase the concern rippling across his face. “Really.”
The waiting room wasn’t nearly as far as the man’s description had made it sound, but Alexa was thankful for the directions, nonetheless. At every turn, another stretch of hallways extended in different directions.
Jeff sat next to Taryn on a vinyl couch, rubbing her back as she stretched her legs in front of her. They looked up as she pushed through the door. “Dad’s awake, and he wants to see you two.”
Alexa traced her mental breadcrumbs back to her father’s room. “Look who I found loitering outside.”
Taryn ambled to her uncle’s bedside. She patted on his chest. “I can’t hug you.”
Carlisle placed his right hand over hers and smiled. “I don’t need hugs. How are you and my grand-niece or nephew?”
“Wonderful. I’m getting big as all outdoors, but it’s the best.”
“That one is taking good care of you then?” Carlisle thrust his chin in Jeff’s direction.
“I try. She doesn’t normally need too much taking care of, but lately, my services are in greater demand. You look good.”
The older man snorted. “I look like I’m dead.”
“Dad!” Alexa barked. Her father laughed. “That’s not funny.”
“Gotta laugh, sweetheart. I’m going to be good as new in a few weeks.”
That’s what her mother had told her. Right now, seeing him helpless in bed, that was hard to imagine, but she hoped. The man was too stubborn to stay down for long—a genetic trait.
“Don’t say things like that when Mom gets back.” Alexa chastised her dad through pursed lips.
“I didn’t mean to get you upset, baby girl.”
“I’m fine.” Alexa sniffled.
“What all did the doctor say?” Taryn pulled a stool over to the bedside. She couldn’t sit, so she leaned. Jeff moved behind her and helped lift her onto the seat, bracing her against his chest.
“Rest. Don’t go too hard. Get scheduled for physical therapy. The damage wasn’t too bad. They had to reattach the muscle. Getting use out of it will take some work.”
His fingers wiggled a little in his sling. The tiny movement eased the tension in Alexa’s neck.
“Is that it? They must have said more than that, Uncle Carlisle?”
“Those are the highlights.” He closed his eyes, heaved a sigh, and then opened them again. “I can’t wait to meet little Carlisle or Carla. I’ve decided that you’re going to name the little bugger after me, if that’s okay.”
Taryn stroked his shoulder above the sling. “I love you, big man, but I can’t make any promises.”
“Right now, we’re trying to fend off my mom’s wanting to name him Edgar after her dad. Even as a middle name…no,” Jeff grumbled.
“She must be excited—getting grandkid number two. One of these days, before I leave this mortal coil, I’d like a grandchild.”
Alexa sighed. “Mom’s not even here, and I’m having to listen to this.”
Carlisle lifted his brow over wide eyes and lowered his chin. “She’s not the only one wondering when you might settle down. She’s just the loudest about it.”
With her father joining in on the act, Alexa might have to skip holidays until menopause took her options off the table. Taryn’s pregnancy had her mother in a lather. Brenda Stevens tried not to push, but her jealousy of her sister Annabelle’s grandma-to-be status vibrated off of her in waves—in person, over email, on the phone. Her mother’s signals could power AT&T.
Her father had no problem amplifying them in Brenda’s absence. “Don’t give me that sourpuss look. You know we only want you to be happy.”
Taryn cleared her throat. “Everybody has their own path. If it’s what Alexa wants, she’ll get it. No doubt about that. How’s your partner?”
Carlisle dropped his eyes to thin blanket covering him to the waist. “Better, from what I hear. He took a shot to the chest. They removed the bullet and fixed him up. He’s in ICU. Once I get the clearance, my sister is going to wheel me up there. She’ll be here tonight.”
Alexa’s eyes widened. “Is something wrong with your legs?”
“No, but I’m not supposed to be up walking around while I’m on all these meds. They’re afraid I’m going to keel over.”
“Oh.”
The conversation felt like a roundhouse to the stomach, and she thought she might fall over herself.
“I’m going to be right as rain, Lex.”
“I know. Everyone keeps saying that.”
Taryn gave Alexa a soft smile. “When is that Shakey’s getting here? I think we could all use a boost of fat and sugar.”
“Not sure that’s a solution to anything.” Alexa wrinkled her nose. If she gave in to eating her stress, she’d have a belly as big as Taryn, without the excuse.
“Nonsense,” her father roared. “A good burger is the solution to everything.”
Alexa forced a laugh and stood to walk over to the sink for a paper towel. A fine layer of sweat shine
d on father’s brow. Was he feverish? The monitor next to the bed told her no, but he looked clammy.
She lightly wet the towel with cool water and walked to the other side of the bed from Taryn. Her father’s eyes shut when she dabbed at his forehead. He could say he was fine all he wanted, but Alexa knew he needed his family. She couldn’t head home until she knew he’d be okay without her.
* * *
The Stevens’ kitchen was a time capsule from 1987. That’s when Alexa’s mom replaced the golden laminate countertops with beige ones and ripped out the linoleum in favor of ceramic tile.
They had a newish, white refrigerator only because Alexa insisted and bought them one for Christmas almost ten years ago. She wanted to get them a suite of brand new, stainless steel appliances.
Her mother had balked. “All we need is a fridge. And I don’t like the stainless steel ones. You can’t put magnets on the front.”
A cluster of cards, fragments of paper, and random baby photos clung to the refrigerator door. Alexa’s eyes drifted from the prayer reminders and invitations to church potlucks to the yellow floral wallpaper encasing the room. Its velvet-flocked horror was original to the house, dating back to the year after Alexa was born.
She blinked and looked away as if staring too long might transport her back to the time of big-banged poodle hair and acid-washed jeans.
“Charlene got in okay?” Her mother pulled a family size bag of Skittles fun packs from the cabinet and sat down at the oak, butcher block table, tossing over three tiny bags of candy. Alexa tore one open and sorted through it for the red and green ones. Her favorites.
“Yes. Of course, as soon as she got there, they started bickering.”
“Your father and his sister are a pair.”
“She loves him, though, and now, you can come home and get some sleep.”
Her mother shook a few of Alexa’s discarded candies in her palm before popping one in her mouth. “You could have stayed at the hospital.”
“I’m supposed to make sure you put your feet up.”
“Your father spoils me.”
“I know. It’s embarrassing.”
Alexa leaned over and kissed her mother’s hand. The fine bones shifted under ivory skin thinning with age.
Today, Brenda looked older, but even on better days, Alexa noted the progression of time in the hair color going from blonde to gray to golden frost—the platinum shade popular at the local salon. Time always catches up with you.
Alexa’s phone skittered on the table, flashing at her, and she picked it up.
> Hope your dad is okay. Give me a call if you feel like it later. Anytime. Late or whatever.
Her heart lightened.
“Is that your new man?” Her mother grinned.
“Oh. No. Just a friend.”
“The way you smiled, I thought it must be this Adam fella. What friend is it?” Her mother’s crisp green eyes sharpened on her. “Yes. I’m being nosy.”
“It’s not Adam. It’s a guy that I was seeing before Adam came to town. Graham. I mentioned him. He’s with the company that bought the building. He called me last night and came over to check on me. I was a mess.”
“That’s nice of him. …It’s good that you can stay friends.” Her mother chewed as slowly as she spoke.
Alexa knew what it meant when her mother’s words poured out like molasses. “He and I weren’t serious. He’s not the serious type.”
“Adam is serious about you, then?”
Alexa nodded. “He’s been clear about that from the beginning.”
“That was okay with you? I’m a little surprised.”
Her mother shook the bag in her hand and poked through it, apparently absorbed in her selection.
“Me too.”
Brenda looked up. “Have you talked to Adam?”
“This morning, before I left. He texted me. I need to call him back. He’s out of town.”
“So, he did check on you?”
“Of course.” Alexa’s terse reply sat somewhere between defensive and accusatory.
Her mother sighed. “I’m just trying to sort through your love life. I have to figure things out. You never tell me anything.”
“I told you about Adam.”
“You never told me about dating this Graham.”
“That wasn’t worth talking about.”
“But he’s checking on you.”
“We’re friends.” Alexa spoke sharply.
“Alright. Just asking.” Her mother’s right shoulder lifted in a shrug.
“What?”
“Nothing. If you’re seeing this Adam, I’d like to meet him. You should bring him up, so your father and I can lay eyes on him before he goes back to England.”
Alexa said her thousandth prayer for the day, this time, for this conversation to end. ”I’ll see what his schedule is.”
“Good.” A tension Alexa hadn’t noticed before eased in her mother’s face. “What are you going to do when he goes back to England?”
“I don’t know. He’s here for the next couple months, and he’s hinted that he might stay longer. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”
“I like having you nearby. Texas is better than New York and much better than London.”
Alexa grabbed her mother’s hand and squeezed. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“So, you’re moving back to Oklahoma?” Her mother gave a half smile.
“Don’t go crazy.”
“I don’t know why you feel that way about your home town. We’re growing. We have excitement like any other city.”
Alexa suppressed a grumble. She didn’t want to insult the town her mother loved. “I have my business in Austin. I can’t up and leave.”
“I know. I’m your mother. I have to keep you feeling guilty about something.”
Somewhere, Alexa thought, her mother had a Tupperware container of gold medals for guilting children. “It’s late. You should get some rest, so we can get back to the hospital early.”
Alexa kissed her mother goodnight, climbed the stairs, and meandered down the hall leading to her childhood bedroom. Framed memories scattered the wall, displaying versions of herself in assorted sizes and with varying amounts of teeth.
She groaned at the picture she’d asked her mother to remove at least a hundred times. Her hair looked like a jailbreak of curls throughout her middle school years. Add braces and glasses, and the hideousness stunned her every time she saw it.
“I love that picture. It’s exactly how I remember you at that age. You were so cute,” her mother always insisted.
Alexa had no idea what her mother saw. She could only be grateful that the acne hadn’t shown up until the braces came off in ninth grade. That’s also when she shot up five inches—almost to her current six feet of height.
The summer before senior year burned away her awkwardness, and she started doing local modeling—for newspaper mailers and department stores—when she was seventeen. Soon, Alexa found an agent and landed larger and larger jobs. Halfway through college, she moved to New York to model full-time.
Driving into Manhattan in the back of a rickety taxi, Alexa had taken one look at the endless sweep of towering buildings and knew she’d never move back to Oklahoma. The town had more going on now, but when she was little, it had seemed like a godforsaken outpost. Everything came to Oklahoma City late—music, movies, and fashions.
Alexa wanted fresh and happening. She escaped the first chance she got, the ink on her high school diploma still glistening.
Pushing open the door to her old room, she stopped and grinned. Her Cabbage Patch kid smiled at her from the bed. Even though they had renovated the room and moved a number of things to storage, the doll stayed. Alexa wiggled a finger in Kirstie Lorraine’s dimple. The thrill of her eighth birthday surprise flooded back. Silly as the doll was now, it had been hard to come by and not cheap.
She scooted the bag off the bed and flopped back, kicking off her shoes. She b
rought pajamas, but didn’t have the energy to change. Eyes closed, she brought the doll to her chest and tried to remember what it had been like to have it be the pinnacle of satisfaction in her life.
Being an adult complicated everything.
Chapter Thirty
Graham tapped the back arrow on his phone to listen to the voicemail again.
“Hey, Graham. It’s Alexa. I’m calling to let you know that my dad is in recovery, and he should be up and around in a day or so. Thanks again for the other night. Things are looking up, and I appreciate it.”
He took a swig of his beer, relaxing. Alexa would be fine, and he’d served his purpose. He considered calling her back. Part of him just wanted to hear the cheer in her voice rather than distress. Of course, he wouldn’t.
Instead, he dialed Sierra. What he needed was to get his mind off of his failed venture with Alexa and onto a sure thing.
When Sierra didn’t pick up the phone, he sent her brief message.
> What are you up to tonight?
Graham got up to get another beer and flipped through the TV channels, waiting for response.
>> Not much.
> Come over?
>> How about dinner?
His thumb hovered over his phone. Sierra never wanted to have dinner or do anything remotely date-like, but he wouldn’t let suspicion drive him to a knee-jerk “no.” Right now, some easy conversation capped off with their usual evening sounded like a perfect combination.
> Rio de Luna?
Graham remembered how much Sierra loved Tex-Mex.
>> See you in 30
With the date made, Graham grabbed a quick shower and headed out.
* * *
Sierra beat him to the restaurant. He saw her sitting at a high-topped table in the bar. Her spike-heeled ankle boots tapped furiously against the leg of her chair. When she spotted him, she gave him a jittery wave.
Graham smiled and stroked her upper arm before sitting opposite her. He expected a seductive look in return with a flirtatious wink or flip of her hair. This was a woman with whom he spent most of his time naked. Instead, she cleared her throat and warbled, “Hello.”