Chapter 11
PRESENT
They must have the guy in the room next to me on some pretty heavy pain meds because he’s been talking in his sleep all night.
My left side is on fucking fire. I press the button that slow releases the pain meds into my IV. It beeps back at me, telling me I’m at my limit for now. Basically, it’s going to be a bitch and not give me anymore.
The pain is duller with the meds but it’s still there. This is by far the worst I’ve ever been burned, and I can’t help but think that every time I mentally complain this is what Jacob must have gone through, but a thousand times worse. The familiar pang of grief hits me as I try my best to sit up, squinting to focus on the clock on the wall with the fading sun coming through the blinds. It’s almost seven, nearly twenty-four hours since I fell into that pit. I think I slept through Vi’s entire shift last night and most of today. These meds are kicking my ass.
I know better. I’ve been trained better. I remind my guys better. I elevate the bed to a higher sitting position by pressing the button on the side, then pick up my phone to see texts in my group chat with Cal and my sup. GIFs of hot nurses from Opp. Well wishes and a mix of “Need anything?” from some of the other guys. I respond to them all one by one and leave my group chat for last. Of course, Cal and Xander are gonna bust my chops a little.
Cal
You know if you wanted a couple weeks off you could’ve just asked instead of pit jumping.
I chuckle and scrub the stubble along my jaw with my good hand. I know Cal has seen a lot. He struggles with not having been able to help Xander’s dad the same way that I struggled with letting Jacob go up on that ridge. He watched Xander’s dad die right in front of him. That shit messes with you. Not to mention, he had to be the one to tell Xander what happened, and overcoming that has been a struggle for him, so to put him through this sucks.
I would ask for a vacation but my boss is a fucking slave driver. Only two days off since May.
Sup
Sounds like the kind of boss that likes a hard worker and goes above and beyond when someone gets hurt.
You know, like carrying your heavy ass two hundred yards to the med tent above and beyond.
Still a hard ass.
Sup
Well to cut the shit for a second, this hard ass is fucking relieved you’re ok.
Thanks Sup
Sup
Don’t thank me, just get better, we need you out here.
Cal
Need anything? Scottie is running some errands this afternoon.
Nah man my mom is coming, bringing me clothes and stuff.
I don’t even get the text sent before my mom’s voice is echoing down the hall.
I can’t hear what she’s saying but I can hear the tone. I’ve always been a bit unpredictable, lived my life like it was an adventure, but my mom lives her life with a regiment of control. She’s a worrier, and considering I just fell into an ash pit I’m sure she’s about to spontaneously combust.
“…and they’ll give him that med for how long? It’s addicting, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it can be, but I’ll be here all week. I met with the doctor this morning and he said we’ll be lowering his dose every day. By this time next week, he shouldn’t need anything but naproxen or ibuprofen.” The voice of the nurse talking with my mom is unmistakable—it’s Violette, and now I know she’ll be here all week.
I do my best to sit up on the edge of the bed as my mom rounds the corner with tears in her eyes.
She takes one look at me and loses it, coming toward me, unsure of where or how to hug me without hurting me.
“I’m okay, Mom,” I tell her as she sits down beside me on my good side and hugs my neck. Her short blonde hair is messy, and her eyes are puffy under her glasses. She definitely looks like she needs sleep. My dad texted me and told me she wouldn’t let him stop all the way home from their haul in California.
I shake my head. “I’m okay,” I repeat, to make sure she understands.
“No, you’re not. Oh, my baby,” she cries. “Be honest,” she adds, “what can I do?”
“Okay, if I’m being honest… I’m groggy from this shit they’re giving me, and I fucked up my back when I fell, and my skin feels like it’s on fire, but, Mom, I’m okay ,” I say, hoping she’ll get my message.
I side eye Violette standing in the doorway, clicking away on the computer that the nurses roll from room to room. My heart breaks all over again as I realize Vi’s mother never got this, the son who was injured but made it through. My mom instantly understands when she sees me looking at Violette. She sits up and sniffs.
“I’m sorry, it took me way too long to get here.” She dots under her glasses with a tissue from her pocket.
Now that she and my dad are empty nesters, she sometimes travels with him on his long hauls so they can be together after so many years of being apart. He owns his truck and it’s quite comfortable, with a little bedroom in the cab and storage. It’s luxury on wheels. My dad says it’s a nice way to spend his last few working years. They treat it almost like a road trip.
“Dad is getting the things you asked for from your house. He should be back real soon.” My mom wipes her eyes as Violette finishes typing into her computer just outside the door and turns to face us.
“I’ll let you have a quick visit and then I’ll come back to check and change your dressings,” Violette says with a nod.
My eyes flick to hers. Even after everything that happened between us and years apart, I still feel the need to make sure she’s okay.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” My mom stands and makes her way to Violette. “I’m so glad he’s in your hands all week.” My mom is a much taller woman than Violette, and she pulls her right in for a hug.
Violette tells her I’m going to be fine and hugs her back, her eyes meet mine over my mom’s shoulder. I smirk at her and mouth the words “ thank you.” Her eyes don’t soften like I want them to—like they used to. She simply pulls back from my mom.
“It’s my job, you don’t have to thank me, Liz. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” she says in a no-nonsense tone.
She turns to leave the room and because old habits die hard, I can’t help but notice how great she looks in her scrubs, with her long ponytail hanging in graceful waves down to her mid back.
My mom comes toward me when Violette is out of earshot and gives me a barely there tap at the back of my head as if to give me shit.
“You might want to fix that. She’s a gem. Remember when she used to like you?” she notes with a small laugh. Should’ve never told my parents what happened with Violette. They’ve never let me hear the end of it, they always liked her.
I chuckle and lean back in my bed, guess that sympathy from earlier is over. My mother chats my ear off about their trip down through Roswell, New Mexico. She rambles when she’s nervous or worrying so I just let her go. Within fifteen minutes my dad is coming through the doorway with all my stuff from home. I’m basically a younger spitting image of him, only I’m an inch or so taller than he is. His hair has gone gray, but he looks happy, relaxed even. I haven’t seen him since before fire season started, but I’ve talked to him over text almost every day.
“Hey, kid, looking better than I thought you would,” he says, coming to me to give me a pat on my good shoulder.
“Thanks.”
“Sorry, but I just gotta say it.” He smirks. “What are the odds the one that got away is your nurse?” he says, hiking his thumb over his shoulder. My mother chuckles.
“Laugh it up, you two.” I extend my good arm behind my head.
“Well, no time like the present to start fresh. And seems to me, you’re already off to a good start,” my dad says, taking a seat beside me.
“How so?”
“You made it outta that pit and she’s here. You know, it might not be easy to make a friend out of her again, but nothing worth having ever is and you’ve got a lot of years to make up for.”
I close my eyes, taking a breath.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”