by Kaylee Ryan
“We’ve got baby duty. You all get kitchen duty,” Reagan announces.
I set my plate on the table, and scoop Beck out of his seat, while Reagan grabs Ben. Seth places Knox on his feet and he clasps Kendall’s hand as we head down the hall to get them cleaned up.
“You ready to head home?” Mark asks.
Ridge and Kendall are packing up the kids, and the twins are already upstairs napping. “Yeah—” I stop talking when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I assume it’s my parents; they leave tomorrow for their cruise and Mom promised no less than five times she’d call me today. Pulling it out, I glance at the screen. It’s not a number I recognize, but the area code is from my hometown. Swiping at the screen, I place the phone to my ear. “Hello.”
“D-Dawn….” a female voice sobs.
“Destiny?” It sounds like her, but I’m not sure. It’s hard to determine from the sobs that are coming through the line. “Is that you? What’s wrong?” I fire off questions to my little sister.
“There was an accident.” Her voice cracks.
My heart falls to the pit of my stomach. “What kind of accident?” I manage to ask. I feel Mark’s arm slip around my waist, silently offering me comfort.
“I’m sorry,” she cries.
“Destiny,” I say, my voice stern. “Tell me what happened.” It’s been months since I’ve talked to her, and even then, she was so strung out I doubt that she remembers. She’s twenty-two. I’ve lost track of the number of times she’s been in rehab. It’s almost impossible to help those who are not willing to help themselves.
“They’re gone,” she says, her voice breaking.
My chest tightens. “Who’s gone?” I whisper the question when my gut tells me I already know.
This isn’t happening.
“Mom and Dad. I’m so sorry,” she says again, and the line goes dead. Nothing but silence greets me on the other end.
My hand falls to my side and I feel the phone slip from my grip, but I can’t move to stop it. My parents are gone. My sister dropped the news and hung up on me. I have to know. Frantic, I drop to my knees for my phone, but Mark stops me.
“Hey,” he says soothingly. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I-I need my phone.”
“Here,” Kent says, appearing beside us. He bends to pick up my phone, offering it to me.
“Dawn.” Mark frames my face with his large calloused hands. “Talk to me.”
“I have to call the hospital.”
“Okay, we can do that, but you have to tell me what’s wrong.”
“M-My parents,” I choke out. “They’re gone.”
I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look, causing Mark to drop his hands. I see Kendall. “That was Destiny,” I tell her. “She said that… that Mom and Dad are gone.”
“Oh, honey,” she says and pulls me into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
“I-I don’t know what that means. I mean, I think I do, but she just hung up on me. She fucking hung up on me,” I say, louder this time. I smack my hand over my mouth as my eyes dart to the kids.
“It’s fine,” Kendall soothes. “What do you need?” Kendall asks. My best friend has always been there for me. She’s been there for many of the drama-filled situations with my little sister.
“Breathe,” Mark murmurs softly. His arm slides around my waist and he pulls me close, offering me comfort.
Doing as he says, I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. “I need to call the hospital. I need to know what’s going on.”
“Let me,” Kendall says, pulling her phone from her back pocket.
It makes sense for her to call. We worked there together right out of nursing school. Maybe there will be an old connection she can reach out to and find out what’s going on. I need to know what happened to my parents. I’m in no shape to call, but I need answers. With shaking hands, I hit the number that just called me, and it rings, and rings, and rings before going to voice mail. A generic message prompts me to leave a message, but I don’t bother. It’s hard to tell whose phone it is, and I can guarantee that Destiny’s not going to call me back regardless.
“I’ve got you,” Mark whispers in my ear. His hold on me is tight.
I hear Kendall talking, but I can’t focus on what she’s saying. I just keep hearing my sister’s voice telling me she’s sorry and that our parents are gone. Why is she sorry? What does that mean? What did she do this time?
Chapter Four
Mark
She’s shaking. I hold her close to my chest as her body trembles from the bomb that her sister just dropped on her. They’re not close, and from what she’s told me, it’s been that way since high school. I’ve never met her. I’ve never talked to her, but right now, I wish I had her number so I could call her and give her a piece of my mind. Who calls and delivers that kind of information and just hangs up?
“I’m right here,” I comfort her. I don’t know what she needs. Hell, I have no experience with this. I’ve never cared this much, never had a woman in my life longer than a few weeks. All I can do is hold her and be here for whatever she needs.
“Okay,” Kendall says, ending the call. “They didn’t tell me much. Just that there was an accident. Destiny was in the car with them, but she’s okay. They just released her.”
“M-My parents?” Dawn asks, and you can hear the pain in her voice.
Kendall grimaces. “I’m so sorry.” She steps forward and wraps her arms around both of us. No way am I letting her go right now.
“I have to go,” Dawn says through her tears.
Kendall steps back, and her eyes find mine. “I’ve got her.”
“I’ll drive,” Seth offers.
I’m ready to tell him that’s not necessary but the way Dawn’s clinging to me, it’s probably a good idea. I don’t want to let her go. Not right now. Not when she needs me most. “Thanks, man.”
“I’ll come too,” Kendall offers, looking at Ridge. He nods.
“You don’t have to,” Dawn says, but even I can hear that she wants her there.
“I want to.”
“Be safe. Call me when you get there.” Ridge leans in and kisses Kendall on the cheek.
“Leave the kids with us,” Tyler says. “Go with them.”
“No, that’s okay,” Kendall says. “I’d rather them be in their own beds. It’s only an hour and a half drive. We’ll be home tonight.”
“Okay, sweet girl, you call me if you need me,” he tells her.
“I’ll help Ridge with the littles,” Kent offers.
“Let’s go,” I whisper softly. Clinging to me, Dawn allows me to help her into her coat, and lead her out to Kendall’s SUV. Seth tells Kendall that he’ll drive, and she doesn’t argue, climbing into the passenger seat. Once we’re on the road, she turns to look at us in the back seat. Dawn is curled into my chest, and from the damp feel of my shirt, I know she’s still crying. Kendall gives me a sad smile, then turns back around.
By the time we make it to the hospital, my arm is stiff from holding her so tightly and my shirt is soaked, but my pixie has calmed down. Her last sniffle was almost ten minutes ago. I wish there was something that I could do to take her pain away. I can’t imagine losing one of my parents, let alone both of them. On top of that, I can’t imagine my sister and her family—her husband and their twins—not being in my life.
“Dawn, we’re here,” I say softly. I’m not sure if she’s sleeping. I know her breathing has evened out and her whimpers have stopped.
She sits up and blinks. “Okay,” she says, reaching for the door handle. I move across the seat and follow her out. I’m going to be stuck to her like glue.
“Mary told me for us to go to the Emergency Room,” Kendall says, appearing beside us. Seth walks along beside her; he too is giving her silent support.
“Okay.” Dawn’s broken reply comes out as barely a whisper.
One word. Okay. Softly spoken when we all know that she’s anything but okay. I kee
p my arm around her, letting her lean on me as we make our way to the ER. Kendall stops at the desk and lets them know that we’re here representing the Miller family. From the grim expression on the receptionist’s face, I know that the phone call is real. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was hoping that maybe this was just a stunt from her sister. Maybe a ploy to bring her home. A shitty one, but from what I know of her sister, that’s to be expected.
“This way. I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.” Seth and Kendall lead the way, following along behind the receptionist. “Have a seat. The doctor will be right in.”
“You want to sit?” I whisper to Dawn.
She doesn’t say anything as she clings to me. I decide we’ll stand like this and I can give her my strength. The strength to hold her up and hopefully the strength to get through this.
“Hello,” a short dark-haired man, who looks barely old enough to drive let alone be practicing medicine, says, entering the room. He quietly closes the door behind him. “I’m Doctor Travis. I was the one who worked on Tina and Don Miller. Are you family?” he asks.
“Yes,” Kendall replies.
Dr. Travis looks at each of us, stopping when he gets to Dawn. “Mr. and Mrs. Miller were involved in an auto accident. From what we were able to gather from witnesses, the car started swerving and the driver, Mr. Miller, lost control. We later learned that their daughter, who was in the car with them, was trying to exit the car while moving. It’s the assumption that’s when Mr. Miller lost control of the vehicle. Apparently, there was some sort of disagreement. We couldn’t get much from her, just that she didn’t want to go and was trying to get out of the car. When the police arrived to speak with her, she was gone.”
“Destiny?” I ask, speaking for the first time.
Dr. Travis nods. “She said she had a sister, but no one else.”
“Dawn,” I say, my voice cracking. “This is her sister.” I motion to Dawn, who is huddled against my chest. Her tears have reappeared and her soft sobs are ripping my heart to shreds. “Was her sister, was Destiny hurt?”
“No. A few scrapes and bruises, but nothing threatening. She was under the influence, of what we’re not sure. We couldn’t get her to settle down long enough to draw labs. She kept muttering that she was sorry and she didn’t want to go. That’s all we know at this point.”
“Can I see them?” Dawn’s small voice surprises us all.
I want to tell her no, that she can’t see them. I don’t want her to go through that pain and remember them that way. I want to shield her from all of this. However, I know that I can’t do that. I can’t take away this final goodbye, her closure. No matter how bad I want to protect her, I just can’t with this. Instead, I’m going to be her shoulder, stand tall, and be here for the fall.
“Dawn, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Kendall says gently. “We’re nurses. We know the outcome,” she adds. “We know what that looks like.”
“I have to agree,” Dr. Travis says. “I highly advise against it, but of course it’s your decision.”
“Is this how you want to remember them?” Kendall asks.
“I just… need something.” Her hazel eyes look up at me, pleading for answers that I don’t have.
“Dr. Travis, is it possible to keep the bodies covered? Maybe let her hold their hands, give her the closure she needs without seeing them fully?” Kendall questions.
“We can do that. Give me a little time to have the nursing staff do what they need to do. You all are welcome to stay here in this room until they come and get you,” he tells us before focusing his attention on Dawn. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he says kindly, before leaving the room.
“Tell me what you need, baby.” I hold her close.
“We’re here,” Kendall says, reaching out and taking her hand.
“Name it,” Seth says and steps closer.
Her bloodshot eyes and tearstained cheeks are ripping apart my soul. She looks up at me, and I would give anything to take her pain away. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course,” I say, with more confidence than I feel. This entire situation is fucked.
“We’ll all be there,” Seth assures her.
I give him a nod, letting him know I appreciate it. Hell, I’m not sure I can handle seeing them, being there with them like that. The more support I have, the more I can support her. At least I hope that’s how it turns out.
“Are you sure about this, Dawn?” Kendall asks.
“No.”
“We don’t have to go in,” I tell her.
“I know, but I feel like I need to see them. I need to know that this isn’t just a bad dream.”
“At any point, if you change your mind, you tell me. I’ll get you out of there,” I say, hugging her a little tighter.
“Thank you. Thank you, guys, for being here and bringing me. I couldn’t do this alone.”
“Of course,” Seth and Kendall say at the same time. I don’t speak. Instead, I place a kiss on the top of her head just as a nurse enters the room.
“Ms. Miller, if you’ll come with me,” she says, motioning for Dawn to follow her.
“We’re coming with her,” I state. My voice leaves no room for negotiation. She hesitates slightly but then nods her agreement. I’m glad she’s seeing things my way. No way would I let my girl do this alone.
We follow her out of the room and down the long hallway to the last door on the right. Behind that door, what we’re about to see, what she’s about to see is going to alter her life forever.
“Stop,” Kendall says as the nurse pushes open the door. “Dawn, let me go in first. Let me just… make sure it’s all… just let me go in first,” she says again.
“You shouldn’t have to do that,” Dawn tells her.
“I’ll go with her.” Seth steps up. “Kendall and I will go in, and then if she thinks it’s okay, we’ll come back to get you.”
“I need to see them,” Dawn says meekly.
“I know you do, but I don’t want your last memory of them to be like this. We don’t know the details of their injuries,” she replies.
I’m kicking myself for not asking that, but then again, does it really matter? They’re gone, and like Kendall said, she doesn’t need to have that on her mind as her final memory of them.
“Okay.” Again, her one-word reply is all we’re getting.
Seth and Kendall disappear behind the door, leaving us out in the hallway on our own. I wrap my other arm around her waist and just hold her. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper softly.
“I can’t believe this is real. I keep hoping that it’s a bad dream or something.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m not good at this shit. I don’t know what to tell her to make it better. I don’t know what to do to take her pain away. I don’t even try. I just hold her tightly against me, being her strength. I know I can at least give her that.
When the door opens, Kendall is standing there with tears flowing down her cheeks. “You sure about this?” she asks.
“I need to” is Dawn’s answer.
Kendall nods and holds out her hand. Dawn steps away from me, and I want to protest and tell her she can’t do that. She can’t go into that room without my arms around her so she knows I’m here for her. However, I don’t. I keep my mouth shut and follow in behind her.
The room has that antiseptic smell, the one that all hospitals seem to have. It’s dimly lit, and in the center are two beds, both draped with white sheets, outlining bodies. I swallow hard, fighting against the lump in the back of my throat.
“I pulled their hands out for you,” Kendall says, wiping her tears. Not that it does any good, more fall and coat her cheeks instantly.
My eyes follow Dawn as she goes to the right side of the first bed and peers down at the hand. “He got her these last year for their anniversary,” she mumbles. The room is eerily quiet, so we hear her loud and clear. “She was so excited. Her original was so small, barely a chip of
a diamond.” Her voice cracks. “Dad said that after thirty years with him, she’d earned it.” A sob racks from her chest, and I rush to her.
When I reach her, I place my hand on the small of her back and she leans into me. “I’m right here,” I whisper.
“Their anniversary is next month,” she says solemnly.
I watch as her index finger reaches out and trails down the back of her mother’s hand until she reaches the rings. She wobbles a little on her feet, but I’m here to catch her, wrapping my arm around her.
“You can take them,” the nurse tells her.
Her hand shakes as she picks up her mother’s. A sob racks from her chest and I have to fight my own tears. This shit is heavy, but watching my pixie go through this is killing me.
“I can do it.” Kendall steps up next to us. Gently, she takes Dawn’s mother’s hand and slides her rings from her fingers. “I’ll keep them with me,” she tells Dawn.
My girl nods, turning her head into my chest. She grips my shirt and I wrap my arms around her. I hold her tightly and kiss the top of her head. I don’t have words. I can’t tell her this is going to be okay. I can’t tell her that it will get better in time. Sure, those things are true, but right now she’s too raw. This moment is too painful.
Steeling her resolve, she lifts her head from my chest and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. She takes a step away from me, and my instinct is to follow her, so I do. Step for step, I’m behind her as she makes her way between the two beds and stares down at her father’s hand. “He cut his hand building Destiny and me a treehouse.” Her hand runs over a jagged scar on the back of his hand. “I can’t remember how he did it. I remember him coming into the house with his T-shirt wrapped around it and Mom telling us to leave the room.”
She looks up at me and smiles through her tears. It’s a sad smile, but it’s there all the same. “He was that kind of dad, you know? We were definitely daddy’s girls.”