CHAPTER 28 JACKSON #2
“It’s my grandpa,” she manages, voice thick. “He had a fall. They said—” She wets her lips, chin trembling. “The nurse said they don’t know how bad it is. That he hit his head and there was a lot of blood and—”
Her breath hitches and she stops. Tries to collect herself.
My grip slips up until my fingers are curled around her bicep, tugging her into me.
“They’re taking him to the emergency room now,” she whispers into my chest, nose against the hollow of my throat.
“They’re taking him to the hospital and I’m here and the roads are—I don’t even know what the roads are like and, I don’t know when I can get there and—”
“Shh, it’s all right.” I smooth my hand over her hair. “I’m gonna get you back there.”
“How?” Her voice wobbles, clouded with tears.
“Trust me,” I whisper. “Let me take you home.”
It’s a relief to slip into problem-solving mode. Like this, my brain and my body work together. Get Delilah home pounds through my mind like a war drum. A clear set of stepping stones to walk across until I’m at the other side.
I send Delilah to the room to pack while I track down Lottie. A quick conversation confirms that the roads are still in no state to be driven on, and my stomach sinks.
“How long, do you think?”
Lottie glances out the window. The parking lot is a sea of smooth white, the road beyond sparkling in the midafternoon sun.
“The road crews here work quickly and likely have already started on the main routes in and out of town, but I’m worried about the ice.
It could complicate things.” Her kind eyes find mine.
“The priority in storms are hospitals and other social services, not hotels. I’m sorry, Jackson.
But I don’t know if I can get you out of here today. Or even tomorrow.”
I thread my hands together behind my head. I’m about to grab a shovel and start making a path myself. “What if—”
“Hello, uh. I might be of some assistance.”
Dustin, the truck driver with a crush on Delilah, shuffles his way forward, his hat in his hands. He bends the bill of the cap, then smooths it out again.
“I don’t mean to overstep, but I was listenin’ from the corner.”
I wave him off, unconcerned with the semantics of eavesdropping. “Can your truck handle the roads?”
“Lord, no,” Dustin laughs, big and booming.
“I’m not gonna take an eighteen-wheeler for a joyride after a snow event.
Specially not with precious cargo.” He gives me a watered-down glare, like I suggested we strap Delilah to the top of a rocket and launch her back to Baltimore.
“Drivers who pass through this area are a tight-knit group, though, and I know a few of the private clearing companies. Big business out here, you know, with all the snowfall. With the county folks as busy as they are, it leaves quite the gap for private industries to fill. If you ask me, more of the municipalities should—”
I stretch my neck to the side, impatient. “Dustin.”
“Ah, yep. Anyway. I know two guys—Brooks and Brent. Brothers, you know. They owe me a favor from the summer of ’82. They’ve got a real sweet grader that could get you out to the main roads.”
Hope blooms, fierce and quick. “Are they available? Can you give them a call? I’m happy to pay.”
Dustin waves me off. “Nah. You don’t have to pay. It would be my honor to help Miss Delilah.” He straightens, his chest puffed out. A loyal soldier, ready to slay any dragons standing in Delilah’s path. “I already gave them a call. They’ll be here in an hour or so.”
I blow out a heavy breath, relief making my head feel buzzy. “Dustin, I could kiss you.”
He slips his hat back over his head. “I’d really prefer it if you didn’t.”
“Noted.” I turn toward Lottie. “You think you could pack me up some of those powdered doughnuts to go?”
She smiles. “Of course.”
When I finally make it upstairs after coordinating with Mark and Dustin and Brooks and Brent—who finish each other’s sentences and prefer to communicate by screaming directly into the phone—Delilah is sitting in the middle of the floor, her suitcase a small explosion around her.
The only things she has packed are her emotional support bag of candy and one of my sweaters she must have pulled out of my bag.
She looks up at me with big, tear-filled eyes, her mouth trying to twist its way into a smile.
“I’m having trouble,” she tells me, her voice thick.
“That’s okay,” I tell her. This is the Delilah no one else gets to see. The one who feels safe enough to let me see some of her cracks. I put down the bag of doughnuts. “I can help.”
She sighs and looks at her suitcase, her cheeks wet. “I’m really sad,” she whispers.
“That’s okay too.” I meet her on the floor and cup her face with my hands, tilting it toward mine, wiping away her tears with my thumbs.
She keeps her eyes closed, her forehead scrunched.
I press a kiss right there until it eases.
Until she’s looped her hands around my wrists and tucked her face into my neck. “I’m going to take you home now, okay?”
She doesn’t ask any questions. She just nods. Fully and wholly trusting me to do what I said I would.
Take care of her.