“So just quit your job, and they can find a new nanny.”
“Yes, we’ve thought about it, but Bria loves me. She has abandonment issues, and I can’t just leave her in the hands of a stranger. Again, it’ll be confusing for her.”
Violet quietly sips her wine and thinks about it.
“When does she start preschool?”
“September,” I say, looking at her skeptically.
“Well, the answer is obvious,” she says. “Just hold out for nine months until she goes to school. Then you can date and still be in her life without being the sole caregiver.”
It’s actually a great idea, but there’s only one problem.
“I don’t think I can wait nine months, Vi,” I whisper. She slumps down next to me, and we both sip our wine quietly. “This is why I took some time off. To think about this. Because it’s not just a matter of whether or not I want to date Nick. I have to take my job, my future, Bria’s feelings, and Nick’s feelings into account. I want to be sure I’m making the right decision.”
“Well, walking away would be easy. How would that make you feel?” My face falls, and she smiles. “Okay, compromise. Wait nine months until Bria goes to school.” I shake my head vigorously. “Hire a new nanny and date Nick.” My head perks up, but I still shake my head solemnly. “Continue to be Bria’s nanny and date Nick.”
I look down and smile, nodding. Damn. She’s good.
“I guess I have my answer.”
“How many times have I told you? Weigh your options, and always choose the option that makes your heart sing. All the other options are not the right options if they don’t make your heart swell up with happiness.”
“You’re right,” I say.
“You guys will figure it out. When it comes to love, things always work themselves out.”
We talk more about Nick, and then I change the conversation to Marcus and Dan. Violet looks at me when she mentions getting Dan and Mia’s wedding invitation in the mail and how tacky it is to be inviting her and Marcus.
“They’re the ugliest invitations I’ve ever seen, Ev,” she says, chuckling. I nod and smile.
“I’m happy for them,” I say, and my confident voice scares me. I look at Violet, shocked. “Did I really just say that?”
She laughs. “You are so in love with Nick Wilder that this didn’t even phase you. Do you remember your reaction to their engagement?”
“Ugh, yes,” I say, trying to forget that night.
“You’ve come so far, Evi. All this time, you thought you were helping Nick to move on, and yet, he’s helping you to move on. You need each other. You’re helping each other.”
*
Later that night, I check my phone, and my whole face melts into a smile when I see a text from Nick.
As much as this time to think was needed, I really fucking miss you. I think that says everything either of us needs to know.
I grin and reply.
I am awake. Thinking about you. Wishing you were here. I miss you, too…
I drum my fingers along the screen, waiting for his response. There isn’t one. He must’ve fallen asleep. I toss my phone on my bed after twenty minutes, and I go get ready for bed. As I’m brushing my teeth, I hear my phone start to ring. I spit out my toothpaste and rinse my mouth. I run back to my bed and pick up without looking at the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Good. You’re still awake.” It’s Nick, and hearing his voice makes my body feel like someone is pouring warm water over my head. I love the way he makes me feel like that. I laugh.
“Yes, still awake. I was waiting for a text from this one guy…”
“I decided to call you instead. Wanted to hear your voice.”
“I see,” I reply, smiling into the phone. I feel like a giddy highschooler.
“I can’t believe I’m about to ask you this… but I don’t think I can go to sleep again without seeing you.”
“Nicholas Wilder, are you requesting a booty call?”
He laughs so hard that I start to laugh too.
“I didn’t even think of it like that, but I guess it doesn’t look good because it’s so late, does it?”
“Not exactly,” I say, guffawing. “I’ll be right over.”
“Evi?” Nick asks right before I hang up. His voice is quiet, and I can tell he’s about to say something serious. “We’ll figure it out. You know that, right? Us, Bria, your job… it’ll be okay.”
I smile and clutch my chest with my hand. This man…
“I know that now. I did have three agonizing days to think about it.”
He chuckles. “Drive safely.” And then he hangs up.
I stand, excited, eyeing my leggings and T-shirt. I take them off quickly and change into a pair of skinny jeans and a tank top that slightly shows off my stomach. I don’t usually dress “sexy,” but desperate times call for desperate measures. My heart is racing, and I grab a cardigan and my purse before slipping on flats and leaving. I tiptoe down the stairs and write my mother a quick note, leaving it on the dining room table as I leave.
It’s raining, so I cover myself with my cardigan. I slip into my car quickly and reverse out of the driveway. I’m practically shaking—that’s how nervous I am. I merge onto I-90, and the rain starts to catapult itself onto my windshield. I slow down, dropping my speed to fifty MPH, and I cross the river.
I’m over Mercer Island now—not far now. I don’t even turn the radio on. I’m too nervous. I get into the right lane to exit into Bellevue, and that’s when I see the dog walking right in my path, a couple hundred feet ahead of me on the off-ramp.
I don’t mean to slam on my brakes.
It just happens so fast.
Growing up in a rainy city like Seattle, you’re always told how to brake suddenly—resist the temptation to immediately brake hard or turn the wheel—you could lose control. Slow the car by easing off the gas pedal and wait until contact is reestablished with the road before attempting to lightly pump your brakes. In an old car like mine, I have to pump the brakes.
Pump your brakes.
Pump your brakes.
As I slam on my breaks, the thought enters my mind, but I don’t pay attention.
There’s a dog on the off-ramp.
I’m going to hit it.
There’s no way I’m going to hit an animal—possibly someone’s beloved pet.
Maybe that makes me stupid, but I refuse to injure an innocent animal, even it means slamming on my breaks as hard as I can.
Even if it means I hydroplane.
Even if it means I feel my car spin quickly.
Even if it means I feel the car hit and flip over the center divider.
Even if it means the impact knocks me unconscious.
I refuse.
I refuse to hit an innocent animal.
Even it if means I risk my life.
Forty-two.
Nick
I stare at my phone, waiting for Evianna to tell me she’s not coming. That’s the only explanation—it’s been over an hour since we spoke on the phone. I wish she’d told me. I wouldn’t have made an elaborate midnight picnic. I even have champagne chilling in the refrigerator.
Her words booty call made me cringe. That’s not how I work, and I wanted to prove that to her. I’m not a booty call kind of guy. I walk over to the blanket on the living room floor—I placed it in front of the fireplace—and I start to pack up the food. I even made cupcakes… I thought she’d enjoy that.
Just as I’m shaking the blanket out and placing it on the back of the couch, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Relief washes over me, but when I see the unfamiliar number on my caller ID, I feel the hairs on my neck stand up.
“Hello?” I ask cautiously. I feel dread hit the pit of my stomach as a strange voice hits my ear.
“Nick? It’s Samantha Halle,” she says, and then I hear her start to cry. “There’s been an accident…” she trails off.
I fall down on my knees.
Please, God… no…
“Oh my God. Where is she?” I demand.
“They took her to Overlake Hospital.”
“On my way.” I hang up and shove my phone into the back pocket of my jeans.
My heart is racing, and suddenly I’m running upstairs and scooping Bria up and into my arms.
“Where are we going?” she mumbles.
“I’m going to the hospital. You’re going to Grandma Ceecee’s,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice from wavering unsteadily. I don’t want to elaborate. I haven’t thought about the possibilities… I can’t think about the possibilities…
She doesn’t ask why; she only cradles her head into my shoulder as I run down the stairs and grab the keys to the car.
I don’t even bother locking the house.
I don’t even bother putting on shoes.
I don’t even bother with anything that doesn’t involve getting to Evianna as quickly as fucking possible.
When Bria is buckled in, I drive up the road to Cecelia’s house and jump out, grabbing Bria as I go.
I bang on the front door.
And bang.
And bang.
Wake up! I want to shout.
Frank opens the door halfway, sees me, and ushers me inside.
“I can’t, Frank. I just need you to watch Bria. Evianna was in a car wreck. I need to go to the hospital.”
“Okay,” he says, and I transfer Bria to his arms. “What hospital?”
“Overlake.”
“They have good doctors there,” he says, and I nod.
“I’ll call you when I hear something. Thank you for watching Bria.” I turn to walk away, and Frank calls out to me.
“Nick…” I turn around as he watches me. “I hope she’s okay.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
The front door closes, and I jog back to the car.
I drive carefully to Overlake. Luckily, I know exactly where it is and where to park. I’ve seen patients here.
This is also where Isabel and Matthias died.
I try not to think about that, but it’s hard when I’m catapulted back to that night right when I walk through the sliding glass door.
It was here that I lost everything.
It was here that my life changed.
It was here that the 50/50 rule did not play out in my favor.
I hope, I pray, that tonight it will.
*
I run over to where Samantha and Thomas Halle are sitting with Elijah.
“What happened?” I say as they stand up. Samantha’s eyes are red from crying, and Thomas and Elijah look exhausted and emotionally drained.
“They think she was trying to avoid a dog on the road. They found it cowering nearby. It was raining, and her car hit the center divider. It flipped three times. They’re not… they’re not giving us any updates on her condition,” Samantha says, and she clutches her mouth with her hand. “She was going to see you, wasn’t she?”
My head hangs in shame, and I nod slowly.
Except instead of being mad at me, she just smiles and pulls me in for a hug. I pull away and stroke her arms.
“She’ll be okay,” I say shakily.
Because she has to be okay.
She has to be.
“Only Evianna would brake for an animal in the pouring rain,” Thomas adds sadly.
“I don’t even drive, and even I know you’re supposed to pump your brakes instead of slam them,” Elijah adds. “They always tell you to just hit the animal. It’s not worth your life. When it’s raining, you’re supposed to just keep going…” He looks away, and I can tell he’s trying really hard not to cry.
“I know, sweetie,” Samantha says, pulling Elijah in for a hug.
We all sit down and wait.
And wait.
I notice another family across from us—two women, a couple presumably, and a toddler. Which one of us will get the bad news? I hope both of us will get good news, but past experience tells me that it’s more like 50/50.
50 fucking 50.
She has to be okay.
I don’t think I can withstand another loss in my life.
I think it might break me—more so than the last time—and I don’t think I can survive it.
The sliding door whooshes open, and a doctor walks in, smiling from ear to ear. The women across from me run over to him, and instantly, they’re crying and smiling. I overhear the doctor tell them it’s a girl.
I’m crying, too, but for a different reason.
I just got the brunt end of the 50/50 deal—again. The universe must really hate me for some reason.
I keep my head down as the family follows the doctor to the maternity ward. It reminds me of Bria and Matthias, and my heart starts to hurt even more thinking of losing Matthias, losing Isabel, losing Evianna…
Just as I feel myself start to panic, the door whooshes open again, and I jump up. Samantha, Thomas, Elijah, and I all run over to the doctor in a white robe.
“Mr. and Mrs. Halle?” he asks, looking at Samantha and Thomas.
“How is she?” Samantha asks breathlessly. “Please, just tell us if she’s okay.”
He hesitates for a second, and for that one second, I see the room spinning around me, déjà vu coming back forcefully…
Please, I beg.
Please.
“She’s stable,” he says slowly, and we all let out a sigh of relief. “However, she sustained multiple injuries. Her leg and rib are broken, so she’ll be on the mend for a while. We had to perform emergency surgery because her spleen ruptured, and she has a pretty severe concussion.” I watch him as he looks at me. “She will be fine.”
Before I know what I’m doing, I’ll pulling the doctor into a tight hug. Everyone laughs. I don’t realize I’m crying until my vision gets blurry, and a drop of water hits his collar.
“Thank you,” I say, and I go to hug Samantha, Thomas, and Elijah.
“You can go in and see her,” he says, gesturing for us to follow him.
I smile at the family next to us, who are now cradling the new addition to their beautiful family.
Because even though we got the brunt end of the 50/50 deal, at least the odds were in both our favors today.
Because today, two miracles occurred, and I’m so, so, so glad we were one of two miracles.
Forty-three.
Evianna
There is a strange man sitting in a chair in my hospital room.
At least, I think I’m in a hospital room. I have a cast on my left foot, and it hurts to move. I’m pretty sure I had surgery.
The last thing I remember is the dog. I panicked, and my car must’ve spun out of control in the rain… I heard the doctor mention my car flipped three times.
Three!
Poor Trisha. She’s probably totaled, and that makes me really sad.
And I would’ve done it all over again to save that damn dog.
“Who are you?” I croak, and the man looks over at me unconcernedly.
“My name is Frank,” he says, and he attempts to smile. Frank. Where do I know that name? “Cecelia’s husband,” he clarifies.
Why is Cecelia’s husband here? He must sense my confusion, because he laughs and continues to speak.
“They’re just down the hall. Nick is at home, changing, but he’ll be back soon. Your family is eating lunch in the cafeteria with Cecelia and Bria. Oh, and a couple of your friends. We’ve amassed quite a large group here. I volunteered to stay behind in case you woke up.”
“Oh,” I say weakly, biting my lip. That makes me happy. Everyone is here.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, and I look up and take his appearance in. He’s tall, with an aging, freckled face and light-blue eyes. His once-blonde hair is now mostly light grey, and he looks tired and ill. I remember Cecelia mention to me that he has cancer.
“I’m fine. Hurts to move, but other than that, I’m good. How are you?”
He laughs, slappin
g his knee and looking at me, amused.
“You’re asking how I’m feeling? You’re the one who’s been unconscious for two days.”
“Cecelia told me you have cancer,” I blurt out. “I’d say you’re worse off.”
He smiles and looks away. “There’s not a whole lot you can control in life, Evianna. I’ve learned the hard way to just be grateful for what’s gone right in my life, rather than dwell on what’s gone wrong in my life. It makes it easier when shitty things happen.”
“Like when Isabel died,” I add, and I cover my mouth with my hand. “I’m sorry, that just came out. They must have pumped me full of drugs,” I explain, sighing loudly. But he just looks at me and smiles.
“Yes, like when Isabel died. It was hard. But you know what? I had an amazing daughter who did some amazing things with her life, one of which is downstairs eating lunch. And that’s only one thing. She was a doctor. She helped people every day. I find peace knowing that she touched so many people in her short time here on earth. You remind me of her a little bit,” he says, and I look down, trying not to cry. “You’re both fearless. She would’ve saved the dog, too.”
“Thank you for saying that,” I croak, and I swallow loudly. I’m trying hard not to cry.
“I think that’s why Nick loves you,” he adds, and he looks away just as my eyes shoot to his.
“I don’t…” I trail off. It’s weird talking to Frank about this. Isn’t it? I feel comfortable, but something tells me that talking to Nick’s deceased wife’s father about Nick is strange.
“You don’t have to be afraid to admit it. I hoped someone like you would walk into his life eventually. He has to move on. Bria has to move on. I’m just glad it’s you, and not some hussy off the street.”
I laugh through my tears at the last sentence.
Cecelia and Bria walk in before I can respond, and all of a sudden, Bria is running over to me.
“Evi!” she says, but she stops short just in front of the bed. Someone must’ve told her I was in pain, because she assesses me curiously.
“Hi, lovey,” I say, and I start to cry.
And Then You Page 21