Chapter 19
[Taxi]
When Judd’s number popped up on my phone, I almost ignored the call. It was early in the morning. I’d just finished a project, and I was looking forward to a long day of napping in Gloria. My van had seen more miles in the last year than I’d put on her in the past five.
Chasing, my mama would say. The next adventure when it was really about pursuing her latest man.
Running, Sedona would argue, like she was anymore planted than I was.
Working. I’d overused the excuse as a reason not to return to Sterling Falls and face my aunt.
Or him.
A man I’d been sending postcards to for almost a year but had no way to know if he received them. It was better this way, I’d told myself. Sending a note without a return address meant he couldn’t reject me by not responding. I hadn’t given him the choice.
Then again, I’d hinted at having an Instagram and I thought he’d DM me there.
He never did.
Let me show you who I am.
I hadn’t done it, and the words shouldn’t have been chasing me everywhere I went this past year.
Maybe I had been running, like Sedona said.
None of this should matter now. Not with Trudy lying in this bed, so frail looking, so drained of energy.
And yet, I’m seeing red at the proximity of that pretty little blonde standing so close to Stone.
Rich crimson that bleeds with an irrational amount of jealousy and anger when I have no right. I’d been the one to leave. I’ve been the one conducting one-sided communication. I walked away from him.
But had I? Had I really let him go?
Those thoughts were neither here nor there right now.
I force my gaze from the perfect-looking couple. Her, in a sharp, fitted, navy blue suit, and him in his dull brown uniform. The town mayor and the sheriff.
With my gaze firmly on my aunt, my vision blurs. Tears I rarely shed come from a collision of emotions. The initial shock. The rush to get here. The exhaustion. And now this, Stone and Emerson again.
I blink back the clouds in my eyes despite it all being too much.
My focus and priority need to be in one direction. The woman in front of me. A strong, robust female who suddenly looks so helpless, attached to tubes and monitors.
A massive heart attack.
How did this happen? Her heart is too big, too strong, too full of love. There is no way it attacked itself. Trudy Wallace would not have allowed it.
Uncle Carlton had a heart attack as well, and Trudy made a sad joke after his funeral.
“We’re just heart people. Some people suffer strokes. Some deal with cancer. We’re destined for heart trouble.”
Had she been troubled? Was she not taking care of herself? Had she been eating poorly? Not exercising? What caused this?
I was desperate for something to blame other than genetics.
Heart people loved. They took in three girls who were not their own. They cared for the little girl whose mother caused them heartache. They made her feel like she had a home for a little while and a family for a little bit before the three sisters scattered like migrating butterflies.
Sedona was in England; Jolene was God knew where. As for me, I’ve been driving all over North America, painting murals on buildings, reinforcing communities, when I didn’t have one of my own.
But didn’t you, Tallulah? Don’t you have this woman lying here? And Simon, too?
Why don’t you have a backyard?
Slowly, I lift my gaze to the woman standing on the other side of Trudy’s bed.
Emory Milton. I don’t understand the relationship this posh, uppity, pillar of the community has with my adoring, kind-hearted, generous aunt, but the two opposites are friends.
Maybe because Trudy never lets Emory get away with her inherent rudeness.
Or maybe because Emory needs the tough love Trudy offers.
Either way, I don’t begrudge Trudy having a friend. I just want everyone out of this room so I can process what has happened.
Aunt Trudy had a massive heart attack. I could have lost her. And what did this situation mean for her future? Selfishly, what did it mean for me?
Another person hits my thoughts. “Where’s Simon?” I demand, turning my attention back to Stone, like he’s the authority in this room. He is the only person standing tall and stiff, fully in command of his emotions.
“He’s with Judd.”
Right. Of course. Now, I remember. Judd mentioned he’d take Simon home with him.
Relief washes over me at the sound of Stone’s rugged, quiet voice, which makes no sense. The relief is knowing Simon is cared for. Stone’s voice should mean nothing to me, especially as he’s still standing so close to Emerson Milton.
The synapses in my brain feel like they’re firing in all directions.
Trudy. Simon. Stone. Emerson.
Turning back toward Trudy, I simply stare at her, uncertain what to say, what to do, how to react, and knowing I won’t voice anything in front of this little crowd. I want to be alone with my aunt.
Within seconds, a nurse enters the room.
“Um . . . Hi, everyone.” The petite brunette clears her throat. “Y’all can’t all be in here at once.”
“I’m family,” I blurt, warning her with a glare that she’ll have to fight to remove me from this hospital room.
Stone lets out a little choke, more like a cough covering a laugh, and I swivel my head in his direction next.
Get out.
Please stay.
Someone hold me and tell me Aunt Trudy will be okay. Let that someone be him, the strong-looking man wearing a uniform I detest but emphasizing the strength of his arms. Arms I’d been anticipating wrapping around me when I have no right to think such thoughts.
Stone holds up both his hands. “Why don’t we all give Taxi some privacy here?”
“I’m her best friend,” Emory whines, whipping her attention from Trudy to Stone to me, in a triangular route of anguish and irritation. “She’d want me to be here.”
“Mama, please,” Emerson counters.
When Stone places his hand on Emerson’s lower back, my stomach clenches, like a gut punch, when I have no right.
I walked away from him, and yet that earlier jealousy snakes through me despite an immediate scolding.
He is not mine.
I drag my gaze back to my aunt, forcing my thoughts elsewhere
Still holding her hand, I stroke her hair, which shifts. Puzzled, I notice her wig isn’t as secure as it should be, like someone placed it on her head in haste instead of properly fastening it.
What happened here?
I glance at Stone once more, like he would hold the answer, when I doubt he has any idea about women and wigs.
His hand is no longer on Emerson’s back. The blonde has already left the room, and Stone waves out his arm, suggesting Emory do the same. Ignoring Emory, I look at Trudy once more, thoughts racing so fast, nothing lasts more than a second.
When a firm hand comes to my lower back, I flinch in surprise and meet the warmth of sky-blue eyes. His gaze is steady while concerned, reminding me of the last time I saw him. When we just stood and stared before parting ways again.
He takes a slight step away, yet the heat of his hand still lingers on my back.
“Do you need anything? Food? A coffee? Something for Trudy?”
I swallow the thickness in my throat, barely holding everything inside. His sudden kindness feels like too much.
My brain can’t compute anything other than what he’s already suggested. “Privacy.”
He nods once and rolls his lips inward before restoring them to their full lushness beneath a mustache.
“Okay. But if you think of something, I’m here for you.”
I weakly nod my gratitude and watch him exit before recalling he’d said the same words to me almost a year ago.
He is here for me.
And for some reason, the thought crashes with everything else that has happened today. The fear of losing Trudy. The rush to get to her, hoping there was still time.
The tears I’d been holding at bay for hours finally break free.