The Beat Around Us (The Heartbeat Series, #2)

by Meadows, Ellie

  I hold up a shaking hand to stop her. “Please don’t say I have options. Don’t say it’s early enough to choose differently.”

  She snapped her mouth closed and nodded. “You got it. Let’s get you back to your room and I’ll get the images to the doctor. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whispered, because I worried if I talked any louder again that my voice might crack. The journey back through the hospital felt so long, giving me too much time to think and dwell. I’d told so many people to stop asking me if I was sure, if I was making the right choice.

  But inside my head? The questions were on a constant, deafening loop.

  When we entered my hospital room, my eyes widened at the sight of Silas leaned back in the chair, his eyes closed, his soft snoring feeling the room like a kitten’s purr.

  “Do you know him?” The imaging technician leaned down and whispered. One of her hands went to my shoulder and it gripped firmly. She wanted to make sure it was okay that he was here, that I was safe. Maybe she thought he was the one who’d gotten me pregnant.

  “He’s a friend,” I said and reached up to pat her hand. “He’s okay.”

  She moved around until our eyes met. “Promise? I can have him removed if he shouldn’t be here.”

  I smiled at this kind woman who showed more concern for me in the span of an hour than my own mother had shown me my entire life. “I promise he’s okay. He’s the one that brought me to the hospital. He didn’t even know I’m... He’s a friend.”

  “Okay, well you ring that buzzer quick if you need help.” She squeezed my shoulder quickly and gently and then she moved my rolling bed back to its original position. She locked it into place, gave Silas one more glance, and then left the room.

  I shifted the sheets so my body was completely covered. That made me feel safer. I used to tuck my legs in and pull the blanket at home up to my chin. Anything to be protected. Though the bed things never did their job. They never kept me safe and warm. Still though, I’m in the habit of never letting a part of me sneak out from under sheets and blankets. Only my head, which I suppose could be hurt too... could be abused in a different way.

  But putting my head under a comforter made me anxious, like I couldn’t breathe.

  Of course maybe that was better than the alternative.

  Silas continued sleeping, and I stared at the walls of the room—unwilling to turn on the television and possibly wake him. I had nothing to read, nothing to do.

  So I closed my eyes and I also tried to doze.

  Actual sleeping brought its own risk.

  Even when my skin was protected, my mind could remember. Every detail. Every horrible... detail.

  “DON’T LIE TO ME GIRL. I know this wasn’t your first time. Acting like I stole something from you. You wanted it.” My stepfather sat on the edge of the bed, hefting his stained jeans up his thick legs. He stood for only a moment to yank the too-small pants over his hips before sitting down again. He didn’t button them, instead letting the jeans stay open and his hairy gross stomach spill over the sides as the beer-smelling tank top rode up to chest height.

  “Leave me alone,” I’d whimpered.

  I shouldn’t have said anything.

  His rough hands pinched my inner thighs so hard that I could barely contain a scream.

  “You tell anyone, and I’ll do worse than that.”

  “ANNA,” A SOFT VOICE broke into the nightmare. “Anna, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.” Gentle hands shook my body.

  “Don’t touch me!” I yelled and bolted upright, scrambling up the head of the bed until my fingers touched the edge of it. I had to get away. He had to leave me alone now. I ran away. I’m so far away... how did he find me?

  “Anna, it’s okay. Anna, it’s me.” It wasn’t his voice. I realized. This voice was kind and deep.

  I blinked, trying to focus.

  Not his face either.

  Silas. “Silas,” I breathed out. “I’m sorry.” I slowly moved back down the bed, pulling the sheets and blanket up to chest height. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  “Don’t be. We all have bad dreams.” He spoke from experience, and I wanted to ask him—

  Do your nightmares feel real? Do they make you want to die? Are they real?

  Silas.

  The way she looks at me, my chest feels tight.

  I want to be honest with her, but yet I also don’t. I don’t want to splurge my shit all over this beautiful, broken girl. I don’t want my past to make her darkness feel even heavier. Yet, also, I feel like she needs to hear that she’s not alone. That whatever she’s gone through isn’t the end. It can’t be the end.

  Because she’s too fucking beautiful.

  Too special.

  “I have nightmares,” I finally decided on.

  “You do?” she asked back shyly.

  “Yeah. My...” now I hesitated, because I’d never really let anyone see J.T. Thatcher here. This whole town only knew Silas. “My bandmate, and boyfriend, died a while back. Overdosed. I was there, and it happens again sometimes. In my head, I mean.”

  Her eyes widened a little and I waited for the judgment axe to fall between us and slice off the head of whatever feelings were growing. But, unexpectedly, her face softened and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

  Feeling uncomfortable, I blurted out the first thing that sprung to my lips. “I’m not gay.”

  She nodded and whispered ‘okay’.

  “I’m... I like both girls and guys.” I babbled on.

  “Okay,” she said louder this time. And a small smile changed her face just so, erasing some of the pain there.

  Awkwardly, walked over and gripped the back of the chair in the corner of the room, pulling it across the floor and wincing when it screeched a little. “Sorry.”

  She shrugged, that hesitant smile not fading yet. “So you’ve dated a guy?” As soon as she asks, she seems embarrassed. I talk fast to answer, to save her worrying that she’s offended me.

  “Yeah.” I sit down and run my hands through my hair, clasping my fingers together at the back of my head.

  “What was his name?” She adjusts her body in the bed, pulling the covers even more snuggly around her waist. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I don’t know why I asked. I’m not usually nosey.” When she said the last, her nose wrinkled in the most adorable way. “I’ve not been myself at all lately. Maybe it’s the...” her voice trailed off.

  “The pregnancy.” I finished for her.

  She nodded.

  “His name was Asher,” I offered, to change the subject. “I used to live in Nashville. He was my bandmate.”

  “Part of the band you’re in now you mean?” She leaned over and must have hit the nurse call button because a beep sounded in the room, followed by a male voice.

  “Hi, can I help you?”

  “I hit it by accident,” Anna moved the large remote further over on the bed.

  “Okay, well, let us know.”

  “Actually,” she said quickly, “I’m really thirsty. Can I have water maybe?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll bring it when it’s time for your vitals,” the professionally-pleasant voice responded. I thought I recognized it now. Nurse Jacobs maybe. His first name was... Anthony or something like that. He hadn’t worked in the small hospital for long.

  “Thanks,” Anna said as a second beep signaled that the nurse had hung up.

  “If you don’t want to wait, I can go track you down something?” I lean back and shove my fingers into my pockets, because my hands want nothing more than to reach out and push a strand of hair from her face. But I remembered how she’d reacted after her nightmare. I’d never touch her without asking, without her explicit permission. Even if it was something so casual as a handshake, a hug, or moving a blonde ringlet.

  “No, that’s okay. I can wait.” She bit her bottom lip, sighed, and then leaned deeper into the two pillows behind her. “So... was Asher in the band I s
aw you playing with at the bar?”

  It was my turn to sigh softly. I’d thought maybe hitting the call button had gotten us off this track. “No. Different set-up in Nashville, not the same people.”

  “That’s cool. Were you pretty well known there? Did you play bigger bars and stuff? I can’t imagine the gigs around here rival Nashville.” She closed her eyes and reopened them, slower than a normal blink. She was tired again. “Not that,” she paused and took a deep breath, “the bar you were playing in that night is bad. Just small.” Anna stifled a yawn.

  “We weren’t anything special in Nashville,” I lied.

  She quirked an eyebrow, as if she didn’t believe me. My voice probably sounded as hollow as my chest when I didn’t tell the truth. I’d never been a liar. I shouldn’t start now, not with her.

  “You don’t seem like nothing special,” she said it so matter-of-factly that I wondered if she could read my mind, or see through the thin layer of skin that protected me from life’s shit and my own brutal thoughts.

  I smiled. I couldn’t help myself.

  “So you were something then,” she continued, reading my expression. She seems a little more alert now, caught up in her teasing. “You can tell me.” She swiped pinched fingers across her lips as if she were ‘zipping’ her mouth. “I’m a fantastic secret keeper. I mean,” she pointed at her stomach.

  The reminder gave me pause. I swallowed hard, thinking through the consequences of finally spilling my secret. I’d lived in this town for a while now, and no one had figured it out. I haven’t woken up to cameras flashing outside my house. No more paparazzi to contend with. No more gossip rags.

  “I promise to tell you.” I said, my eyes lowering to look at the floor, then rising to find her face again—because I found I didn’t want to look away from her for too long. I could stare at her for hours. That’s how it used to be with Asher. There was something broken, expressive, and soulful in her large doe gaze. I didn’t say anything else, waiting for her response.

  “But not right now,” she filled in the blanks.

  “Not right now.” I shook my head.

  We sat there quietly, in comfortable silence, facing a possible impasse. Yet, it slid by us like a cumulus cloud. Easy. Natural. A problem for another time.

  Knock. Knock. “Everybody decent?” a semi-familiar voice was muffled by the door.

  “Come in,” Anna quipped, sitting up a little straighter.

  Doctor Lee, a tall and broad man with black, thick brushstroke eyebrows and a shock of silver hair, walked in flipping through a chart. “So I’m your third doctor in such a short stay. Sorry about that.” He sounds absentminded. “Jennings had to leave town for a few days and Basinger is, well,” he looks up with a small smile, “my wife. She seemed to think you and I might get on. Oh,” he reached into his white coat pocket and pulled out a miniature bottle of water, “and here’s this, as requested.”

  Anna took it with a small nod of thanks, but she didn’t say anything in response to Doctor Lee’s entrance or words.

  I stood up. “Hey, Doctor Lee.”

  “Silas.” He nodded. “I heard you were hanging around Ms. Silverman” He looked me up and down. We’d always got on, but it seemed him—like everyone else in the hospital—disapproved of my interest in this patient. “Could you give us a moment alone?” It wasn’t actually a question, though his vocal inflections made it masquerade as one.

  “He can stay,” Anna said quickly, her voice breaking on the last word. “I’d like him to. It’s better than... being alone with everything.”

  “You’re not alone, Anna,” Doctor Lee’s kind face turned, so warm like sunshine despite his paler complexion. It was a completely different feeling he emoted turned towards Anna than when he was turned towards me. People wanted to help her, seemed drawn to her. Was the way I was drawn to her any different? Did Anna just create this need in people to help?

  “If Anna wants me to stay, I’m staying.” I watched her face as I spoke. I waited for the tiny nod that followed. I held that motion in my heart like a promise.

  Doctor Lee cleared his throat. “Okay then. Your ultrasound was great, Anna. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Your blood sugar levels, on the other hand,” he flipped a page to read some numbers, “were way too low. Are you eating regularly? You don’t have to intake too much more than your normal calorie allowance for your body. That’s a bit of a misunderstanding. The whole ‘eating for two thing’, but you do need to eat regularly, consistently, and get at least twelve to fifteen hundred calories a day. Good calories. Don’t eat like a college student.”

  “What about the fever and vomiting?” I asked, moving to Anna’s hospital bed.

  “Her temp was a little high when she was admitted, but after fluids it came down. I’d say a short-lived virus or stomach flu.” He turned back to Anna. “Everything’s fine now. The baby’s doing great. And, since I’m told you’re sure of your decision, I’ve written prescriptions for—”

  Anna held up her hand to stop him speaking. “I don’t have insurance right now. I’m supposed to have something with the school, but I don’t have a card or any information for it yet. I’m not sure I can get prescriptions.”

  He nodded. “You don’t have insurance through your,” he hesitated, then straightened his shoulders. “Your parents don’t have you under their policy?”

  “My stepfather’s never had a normal job with benefits and my mom... My family hasn’t had insurance for a while.” She shrugged, but I could see the soft vibrations of her body. She was shaking. Was she feeling worse again physically? Or was it her emotions wracking her body with tremors...

  “That’s fine. You can get over-the-counter vitamins. Setting you up with a prescription prenatal was something Jennings had written down.” He flipped the chart closed and waved a hand. “Honestly, grab something decent at the store, take it every day, and eat right.”

  “Doctor Jennings had mentioned something about... extreme morning sickness? I can’t remember the condition he said.” Anna was playing with the cuff of her hospital gown, kneading at the material nervously.

  “I think if you had hyperemesis, you’d still be vomiting. Let’s make a deal, if you start throwing up all day, and can’t keep anything down, come back in. We’ll take care of you.” He held out a hand and patted her shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay, Anna. You don’t know me, and you don’t know my wife, but we’re good people. This whole town is good people. And it’s going to be a-okay.”

  He said it so kindly and I was sure he didn’t see the way Anna winced at his touch. She didn’t like to be touched casually, not by men at least. I knew that, in my gut... and heart. My urge to protect her flared up like a perimeter fire during a bloody war. Keep out the bads. Save the inhabitants. Protect Anna.

  That knowing warred with the feeling in my body that made me want to grab her, hug her to my body, and race her out of the hospital to a place that no one could ever touch her again.

  No one but me.

  Bree was right. We all have our own shit, ready to spew over anything shiny and clean.

  Anna.

  “I can find my own way home. Really.” I’ve said the same thing twice now, but Silas was determined to see me back to the dorm safely. After we stopped at the drug store for vitamins. I wanted to get them later, buy them when I could read everything and check the prices and maybe look for something on the clearance aisle. I wanted to keep this baby. I’ve decided to keep this baby.

  But I hadn’t really thought through the money side of keeping the baby. I gripped the discharge instructions in my hand.

  Vitamins... for now. Eating right.

  Then diapers. Clothing. A crib. Babies need special beds, don’t they? Cribs or bassinets or things like that. What if I couldn’t breastfeed? Then I’d need formula...does a food bank have formula? The questions were roaring through my mind like a tigress on the hunt. I couldn’t shut my brain up, and I found myself clawing at my hair, trying desperately
to shoot the big cat and put myself out of my own freaking misery.

  “Anna?” Silas’s voice was calm and concerned, quiet and controlled. He’s the opposite of the panicked wolf in my head. He’s the head of the pack, the thoughtful leader. He’s the center of my storm whilst everything around the eye crumbles.

  “I’m okay,” I said stoically. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. It’s okay to be not fine, Anna.” Silas walks around to face me. He’d been stood behind, carrying my things as I led the way through the hospital—which made absolutely zero sense since he worked here and I could get lost in a paper bag. But every time a turn came up, he’d gently whisper ‘right’ or ‘left’ or ‘we’re almost to the garage exit’.

  Now, we were only a few feet from the double set of sliding doors that led through the breezeway and into the parking garage.

  “Alright. Fine. Fine. I’m not fine,” I spoke the words harshly, tossing them out like baseballs that I intended to hit the batter, not fly across the plate. I wanted to strike him, and not in a way that meant he ‘missed the mark’ with his swing. I wanted to hit him hard, with my words and rage, to tell him to back off. He didn’t know how un-fine I was. I didn’t want to explain it. I didn’t have to explain it. But now... now I wanted to scream it at someone, just so the secret wasn’t just mine to keep. I wanted someone else angry. Someone else to suffer.

  “Anna, I’m sorry.” He held up his hands placating, like he realized that maybe he needed to stop insisting I wasn’t fine and just let me dwell firmly in the city of denial. But it was too late.

  “No, listen. You want to be a part of what I’m going through? Okay. I don’t want to be alone.” I swallowed, hard, fighting back tears. “I’m messed up though, Silas. I’m so messed up.” I wrapped my arms protectively around my stomach.

  Silas looked at me thoughtfully, and then he opened his mouth. Closed it again. Opened it again. A fish out of freaking water.