Crush: A YA Romance Collection

by Lavinia Leigh

  His hands frantically rubbed the side of his head, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

  After school, he had popped back for a minute to the house, the boxcar. Emmeline was nursing Millie while she read Hamlet for an English assignment. Nicholas felt a little guilty that he was still going to school as if nothing had ever happened and Emmeline had to change to home schooling. She didn’t want to be away from Millie, and daycare wasn’t an option. Housing was barely an option. He had looked at the damn boxcar with disgust.

  He went back and forth regularly between resenting the rusted, graffiti-painted thing to grateful that they could stay there. The trains were noisy, they woke Millie up, and there were always people around. Time was running out. It wouldn’t be long before they needed to find someplace else to stay. The thought weighed heavily on his mind. Maybe they would put off the restorations for a little longer. He could hope. The one bonus was it was so close to the train station, meaning that his four a.m. start time at work was not as miserable as it could be. He could roll out of bed, throw on his uniform, and be at work in fifteen minutes.

  He yawned. It was 10:42 p.m., almost time to go home; he was counting the minutes. The headache that had started small in his temple around lunch was spreading. His whole head felt like it was exploding. He wanted to close his eyes. That would help. He checked the clock again. Seventeen minutes left.

  “Owww!” He held his head. The pain was getting worse by the minute. He felt dizzy. He sat down and put his head between his knees. He wasn’t sure he could handle it anymore. It was stabbing, blinding.

  He fell. Everything went white.

  Chapter 16

  Emmeline

  Nicholas was late, too late.

  Where was he? Emmeline wondered, feeling her heart quicken.

  She wanted to make the quick walk over to the train station, but Millie was asleep. Besides, she was probably being foolish—wasn’t she? There was the golden rule: don’t wake a sleeping baby, especially not Millie. She was all about routine, and casually waking her up to go for a walk late at night was definitely not part of the routine.

  Emmeline put on another pot of coffee. Not like she needed more coffee. She seemed to live on it these days.

  There was a knock on the door, and Emmeline’s heart jumped. There shouldn’t be anyone coming over this late.

  Where is Nicholas? Nicholas doesn’t knock.

  The sound echoed again through the train.

  She hesitated before she opened the door.

  On the other side was Patrick, the man who was supposed to take over from Nicholas for the midnight shift at the train station. His eyes were red and frantic. He sniffed, and then brushed some snow off his hair. Behind him, Emmeline could see the police car lights flashing red and blue, lighting up the dark sky.

  Dread ate at her gut. It wasn’t too late to shut the door. She took a deep breath and possibilities started flying through her mind before he could even speak. Patrick was here to tell her that Nicholas was sick, or Nicholas was needed at work and he would be late. Patrick was here because someone got sick on the train, and Nicholas, being who he was, was helping. Someone on the train had acted up, and they had to kick them off; the police were there to arrest them. She settled on that one. Port Hope had such a low crime rate that it was weird to see the lights flashing for anything other than a speeding ticket.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, not actually wanting to know the answer. She twirled her hands into fists and thrust her shoulders back. Inside she knew what she was bracing herself for. She could feel it.

  “I think you need to sit down,” Patrick said, his eyes filling up with pity.

  “What’s going—police—where?” She took a breath and then tried again. Her words came out staccato and deliberate. “What I need is for you to tell me what is going on.”

  “I—I don’t know,” he stammered. “I—I just found him.”

  “Found who?”

  “It’s Nicholas. I found him on the floor. I was late for work. He was just lying there. I’m so sorry.”

  She could feel the blood drained from her face. Deep inside she could feel it; it was true. Maybe there was still hope. She shifted her weight from one leg to another.

  “Where is the ambulance?”

  “It’s coming, but Emmeline…”

  “Don’t even say it.” Her lips were trembling.

  He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She smacked it away.

  “I don’t think there is anything they can do.”

  “No,” she said.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “No,” she said again. “I need to go to him. He needs me. Stay with Millie? She’s asleep. I need to go to him. Nicholas will be okay.” She sounded frantic.

  “Go. Millie and I will be fine, but brace yourself. Emmeline, he is gone.”

  Emmeline fled outside in her slippered feet and her pink Gap hoodie. The February air was freezing, and it blew straight through her as if this cold world was telling her she was no one. She ran into the train station. Her slippers became caked in snow, and the cold air burned her lungs. She slipped on the wet marble floor. Angrily she kicked her slippers off. Then she ran to where Nicholas should be sitting happily selling tickets. Instead, she saw two uniformed officers standing behind the ticket counter.

  One looked up and put his hand out to stop her from approaching any closer.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

  “Nicholas!” She clapped her hands to her mouth, and the officer’s eyes softened.

  “Do you know him?” he asked, stepping forward.

  “What happened? He’s not really…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She knew the answer.

  Oh God.

  “What happened?” she asked again.

  “We’re not officially sure yet,” he said, coming around the counter. “We’ve only been here a few minutes. The ambulance is on its way. But you should prepare yourself.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Only if you’re sure.”

  She walked forward. She had to know. She walked through the door of the ticket office. There he was, his body lying so still. His brown hair fell softly over his face. There could be no doubt, he was gone.

  Emmeline felt like she would suffocate. What had happened? By just looking at him, there was no way to tell. His face was pale but perfect on the marble floor. His mouth was open, but his eyes were closed, as if he were sleeping. She couldn’t bring herself to come any closer.

  The police were asking her questions. None of them made any sense. She couldn’t talk. Millie, oh Millie, she thought as tears burned down her cheek, quickly soaking her shirt.

  They pestered her with more questions. What happened earlier in the day? Where did they live? Had he been feeling okay? Emmeline wasn’t sure if she answered them or not. She just stared at him, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, her knees threatening to give out.

  An ambulance showed up. People rushed around her. More questions. She tried to answer. She walked outside in her bare feet to get some air. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think. She stood there in the snow, wondering why she couldn’t breathe. Someone came up behind her and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Then they walked her back inside and sat her down.

  “Can I call anyone for you?” the station manager asked. More people were showing up, and there was movement everywhere. Emmeline could hear Dorothy’s voice screaming.

  “Where is Millie?” the manager asked, his voice calm and even.

  “She’s—she is with Patrick. He came over and said, Nicholas was…”

  “I know, sweetie. You don’t worry ’bout a thing. I have this covered. Let me take you home,” he offered.

  Emmeline nodded.

  “Where are your shoes?”

  “I don’t know.” She gazed down at her bare feet, still angrily red from the freezing snow.

  He picked her up in his arms and carried her through the sno
w to the train. Fifteen minutes later her mother arrived at the boxcar.

  The rest of the night was a blur of lights and tears. And Millie—telling a baby who can’t even understand how to talk that she now had no father.

  Chapter 17

  The funeral was held off for a week. The officials needed time to do an autopsy. The police’s assumption all along was that Nicholas had suffered some sort of natural, catastrophic internal event, but the moment she saw the lifeless body of her son, Dorothy started screaming murder to anyone who would listen. Her words didn’t take long to get back to Emmeline, leaving her numb but not surprised after everything that had happened.

  The result was final: brain aneurysm. But Dorothy never believed it. Even her husband couldn’t convince her, or prevent her from lashing out viciously at the police station where they announced the result of the autopsy. She was determined that even if Emmeline didn’t take a gun and shoot him, she might as well have after all the stress she put him under. She worked him too hard. She ruined his life, destroyed his dreams. Emmeline killed him, her baby boy.

  Emmeline tried to block Dorothy out the best she could, but the words echoed in her brain over and over again. She knew Dorothy’s grief had completely unbalanced her, and yet Emmeline blamed herself too. Maybe she had pushed him too far?

  Emmeline dreaded going to the funeral, but there was no way she could avoid it, or should have to. Besides, even though Millie was so young, she should be there. They made it until after the service at the funeral home before the cruelty began again.

  “You killed him. Admit it,” Dorothy hissed, yanking out a few more strands of hair. The coldness in her voice was unmissable as she stood in front of her son’s coffin, where Emmeline had placed loose Gerbera daisies on top of the closed half. They seemed out of place next to the elaborate professional bouquets of roses that stood all around it.

  Emmeline couldn’t even respond. She went running out of the funeral parlour, clutching Millie in her arms, with Ginny screaming in the background to defend her. Callum chased after Emmeline, while her parents were left standing horrified, frozen in place amongst the deafening quiet of the rest of the funeral attendees.

  Callum found Emmeline at the bottom of the church steps, retching and clutching her daughter. He took Millie into his arms as the little one sucked loudly on her fingers. Millie’s black satin gown was wrinkled and covered in drool. As Callum sat on the church steps, he settled Millie on his lap and she immediately tried to stick her fingers into his mouth. He pushed her hands away and put his arm around Emmeline. She cried into his shoulder.

  “I wish I could bring him back,” Callum said, his voice catching.

  “I know, me too. I can hardly believe this is real.”

  “I know I can’t replace him, but I’ll do what I can. I promise I will always be there to help you two.” Somehow, the words he said touched somewhere deep into her soul, and she knew that he meant it. Emmeline had never heard Callum be as serious as he was at moment. She felt safe.

  “Whatever you need, I’ll be there. You won’t even have to ask,” he promised.

  “Thank you,” Emmeline said. “It means more to me than you’ll ever know.” Her words paled compared to what she was feeling in that moment. She felt for just a second like perhaps there would be life after this, that there was some hope out there. Most importantly, she felt as though she wouldn’t have to do this all alone.

  Ginny stormed out of the funeral parlour, and the four of them went back to the train. Emmeline put Millie down for a nap, and they spent the rest of the night talking. It was good to have friends. She didn’t feel so alone, so helpless.

  It was like just as soon as she figured her life out, the rug was pulled out from underneath her. Now she had so much to think about. She needed a job and to arrange day care. She needed to leave the train; without him she knew she couldn’t stay. That wasn’t the arrangement. Besides, it was coming to the end of their allowed time there anyway. A sickening feeling overcame her—she might have to go back to her parents’ house. Her life was like puzzle pieces scattered, and she had no idea how to make sense of them.

  Emmeline was not much more than a zombie for the next week. She did what she had to do purely through instinct instead of thinking, unable to cope with everything that had fallen on her shoulders. Millie, sensing something was off, cried straight through the night, and most of the day. It was hard to think. The only thing that kept running through her mind was, I have to get out of here. She was suffocating in the train. Nicholas was everywhere, his clothes, his shoes, his books, his scent, and yet she was terrified to leave it in case she ran into Dorothy. Her phone was ringing off the hook with people telling her that they supported her and that they thought Dorothy was out of line. It helped, and yet she still didn’t feel safe.

  Stuck in the train, she mindlessly baked. It helped, although she could hardly eat anything, letting the cookies and loaves pile up. She simply felt better with warm things in the oven. It kept her mind off her worries, at least for a few minutes.

  Things changed when she got the life insurance cheque from Nicholas’s work. She had forgotten it was part of his benefit package. When they filled out the paperwork, she had figured that it was a nice bonus, but not something that they’d ever use. It wasn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things, ten grand, and yet it would be enough to start a new life with. When it came, she stared at the cheque for hours, wondering what to do. It was blood money. She hated it, and was relieved at the same time. It was his last chance to help them. She decided to use it to get away from Port Hope, where the memories tormented her.

  It was the first thing that made sense since he died. Once the idea took hold, she couldn’t stop herself even if she tried. She couldn’t take it, not one more day. She called Callum to come over and take Nicholas’s car back to his mother’s house, and then Ginny to tell her what she was doing. Within ten minutes Ginny was there, protesting.

  “Do really think this is a good idea?” she asked, taking things out of suitcases just as Emmeline was shoving them in.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore, except that I can’t live here without him. I need to leave.” She picked up one of Nicholas’s shirts and smelled it, then hugged it close, swallowing the overwhelming urge to fall apart again.

  “You need a plan; you can’t just leave here without a plan. Where will you go? You can’t just up and leave with Millie when you have no idea where you are going.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” Emmeline answered stubbornly, pulling out a plastic garbage bag and starting to shove more stuff into it.

  “Don’t be so stupid! Give me an hour,” Ginny said as Callum opened the door.

  “Emmeline! What’s going on?” he asked.

  Ginny left, and Emmeline gave Callum the keys to Nicholas’s car and told him to return it to his parents. She didn’t want to be accused of stealing his car too!

  The next hour was a flurry of activity: packing, figuring out what she could to take, tossing out the rest, and taking care of Millie’s needs too. Ginny came back, flushed. “You need to stop.”

  “No, I told you, I can’t stay here.”

  “No, stop what you’re doing and sit down. I think I have a solution for you. I have an aunt who lives just outside Oakville. She’s old, she has this grand old house, and she needs help. Seriously. Please! Right now, my parents are making the long drive there every weekend. She has cancer, and insists that everything is fine, and yet she doesn’t even have anyone to take her to her doctor’s appointments. You can go there, Millie can even have her own room, and my parents can regain their sanity. See, done.”

  Emmeline stared at her in disbelief. It didn’t sound half bad. Ginny to the rescue again—how would she ever repay her for everything she had done over the past year?

  “Ginny, you’re amazing! That sounds just about perfect. I can’t believe you arranged all that. Are you sure your aunt is okay with this?”

 
Ginny nodded. “Trust me, this will be a big help for her, and for my parents.”

  The idea suited Emmeline as it rolled around in her mind. She might not have gone if the offer was just out of pity, but if she was needed, then perhaps it would be okay.

  It really dawned on Emmeline for the first time: she was leaving.

  “I’m going to miss you so much!”

  That was it. She had a plan, a place to go where they could start a fresh. Ginny handed her a piece of paper with the address and phone number on it.

  Callum opened the door, and they heard the whistle of the five o’clock train speed by.

  “I’m not going to miss that,” said Emmeline, feeling more resolved in her decision.

  Callum returned the keys to her, and Emmeline frowned, confused.

  “They didn’t want it,” he explained. “Dorothy was sleeping, and Nicky’s dad just signed the ownership and handed it back. He said it was the least he could do. I gotta tell you, I think he feels pretty bad about the whole situation.”

  Fresh tears popped out, and Emmeline quickly wiped them away. She had done enough crying. She graciously accepted the keys back—at least it was something. Besides, she needed the car. It would make her life a lot easier. She looked around the place she had called home and realized she was nearly packed. They didn’t have much to pack anyway, and she decided that it would be best to leave in the morning. Fresh start, fresh life.

  “Well, what do you think, kid? Do you think you will like Oakville?” Emmeline said to Millie. She was happily eating Cheerios in her high chair, taking two or three attempts to pick up just one, then going back for the next.

  “Come back, promise me,” Ginny said wistfully.