Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
T he doorbell rang, and Estelle couldn’t help but gasp as her heart leapt. She had slept better last night than she had in months and it was all thanks to Crew Turley.
He’d been true to his word yesterday, pulling off the role of workhorse without batting an eye. He’d helped her father sit up, then chatted while Dad was being fed as if this kind of situation was an everyday occurrence. He’d helped Antony down the stairs as if Antony weighed no more than Layla, proving that Crew didn’t spend all his time in a chair at the office.
He’d teased and charmed Estelle’s mother, and other than the hug that he’d given her when she’d finally agreed to do Layla’s birthday cake, Crew hadn’t attempted to touch or flirt or do anything that would embarrass Estelle in front of her family.
But you wish he would, her inner voice teased.
With her cheeks flaming, Estelle forced herself to walk calmly to the door. A tiny voice in the back of her head thought he wouldn’t come. That he’d say yesterday was too much. That her family’s needs were insane. That she wasn’t worth helping…but that voice was qu ickly being drowned out by Estelle’s draw to him not just as a helper, but as a person.
She pulled the door open. “Hey.” Wow, Estelle. That was brilliant.
Crew grinned. “Hey! How’d you sleep last night?”
Estelle shrugged, stepping back so he could come inside. Instead of walking in, however, Crew turned, waiting. Poking her head out the door, Estelle looked to see what he was watching.
“Got it!” Layla bounded up the steps, a handful of dandelions in her hand. She held the fistful out to Estelle and Estelle’s heart nearly burst.
“For me?” Estelle signed clumsily.
Layla nodded, her dark hair floating around her face.
Gently, Estelle took the crushed bundle, then reached out to give her little girl a hug. “Layla…you’re my favorite.”
Layla wiggled to be let out, and Estelle let her go. “Is Gramma here? Can we make more cookies?”
“Layla,” Crew warned. “We don’t need to make cookies every day.”
Layla scrunched up her nose. “Why not?”
Crew dramatically slapped his forehead, while Estelle bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Haven’t I taught you anything?” he responded, his hands keeping up flawlessly with his words. “Sugar monsters are everywhere! Especially cookies!”
Layla shrugged and turned back to Estelle. “I don’t think I’ll mind sugar monsters.”
Losing the battle to hold in her laughter, Estelle stepped back, widening the door. “Well, come on in. We’ll put the flowers in water.” Once the door was closed, Estelle marched toward the kitchen, studiously ignoring the feeling that always accompanied Crew coming into her house.
It was as if she could feel him even without touching. His very presence drew her in and made her want to forget her responsibilities just so he would hug her all day long .
Grabbing a glass out of the cupboard, she filled it with water and put the stems in, setting it just above the sink. “There! Now we’ll see it every time we come in here.”
Layla bounced on her toes.
“What can we do for you today?” Crew asked softly.
Estelle twisted her lips and sighed. “I’m not quite sure. I need to do some house clean up, and some work. Mom will be back in a few minutes, and she can feed my dad and stuff.”
“What about Antony?” Crew pressed.
“His physical therapist will be coming today.”
Crew’s eyebrows went up, as if waiting for more.
Estelle frowned. They’d helped so much already! It wasn’t as if she was going to ask them to scrub toilets so she could finish designing Brielle’s cake! And there was no way Layla was going to be comfortable being in with Estelle’s dad. He didn’t look normal anymore, and Estelle wasn’t going to give the little girl nightmares.
The crashing sound of a bell caught her attention, and Estelle sprang into action. She barely paid attention to the fact that Crew was on her heels or that Layla might be following in their wake.
“Dad?” She burst into his room, turning on the light and crying out in alarm when she realized he was struggling to breathe. “No, no, no.” Rushing to his side, she looked for anything that might be obstructing his airway, but his wheezing didn’t seem to be caused by an outside object.
“Dad?” Estelle said as calmly as she could, though her voice was shaking worse than leaves in a windstorm. “I’m going to put the monitor on your finger, okay? Remember, the doctor said to use it to check how much oxygen you were getting?”
Her father didn’t answer. Instead he shut his eyes and his muscles tightened as he tried to suck in air, but nothing was obeying his command.
Hatred for diseases and the frailty of the human body surged through Estelle, and she fumbled with the finger monitor multiple times before she was able to get it where it belonged.
Her head jerked to the side as she watched the numbers, relaxing only slightly when it noted he was getting enough air even though it was obviously difficult for him. After the last episode, the Emergency Room doctor had warned that eventually he’d have to be brought in and hooked up to a tube, but her father had adamantly turned it down.
He didn’t want to die in the hospital, he wanted to die at home. But after watching this, Estelle wasn’t sure she could honor that wish. Seeing him struggle was more than she could handle. A warm presence at her back had her jerking upright before she realized it was Crew.
“Mr. Harrison?” Crew said. His tone was exactly what Estelle had been aiming for earlier. Low and warm and calm. “I know it’s a struggle right now, but I want you to open your eyes and look at me.”
Estelle glanced up, seeing the underside of Crew’s jaw. Her father opened his eyes as well, looking wild and frightened. Nausea churned in Estelle’s gut.
“Up here, Mr. Harrison,” Crew continued. He smiled and nodded when her father obeyed. “You’re getting enough oxygen,” Crew continued. “But your body is having to work extra hard. I know it’s not easy right now, but the best thing we can do is try to calm down your body.”
One of Crew’s hands landed on Estelle’s shoulder, and without thought, she reached up, grasping it like a lifeline.
“Keep watching me, Mr. Harrison,” Crew suggested. “Keep watching me and focus on relaxing your body.” He smiled. “I know…it’s like asking someone who’s been hit by a freight train to walk it off, but if Estelle’s toughness came from you, then I know you’ll be fine.” Crew breathed in and out loudly. “That’s it. Just keep breathing. Try and relax as much as you can, and the episode will pass. Good…”
Estelle watched her father’s chest as it rose up and down, jerky at first, then slowly, bit by bit, it calmed down. Estelle was sure she’d lost ten years of her life by the time her father was breathing peacefully again .
“You got it,” Crew said with a small chuckle. “I knew Estelle got her spunk from you.”
Estelle could have sworn her father rolled his eyes, but it was so hard to tell with how little control he had over his body, but one thing was for sure.
Crew had to be a guardian angel. There was no other explanation for it. And when his hand squeezed a little on her shoulder, she had a feeling she’d never be the same when this was all over.
Crew’s heart was beating so hard against his chest he was positive that Estelle could hear each and every movement. He’d taken a risk stepping in and trying to help with Mr. Harrison, but Estelle had looked on the verge of a breakdown. Her hands had been shaking so badly that she’d barely managed to put the monitor on her father’s finger, and Crew hadn’t known what else he could do to help.
It was clear that Mr. Harrison was nearing the end of his life, and it sent a sharp pain through Crew’s core. He didn’t get along with his own father while Estelle quite obviously loved hers more than anything.
What would it have been like to be raised by parents who were loving and giving, rather than constantly trying to mold a child into their version of perfection?
Crew wasn’t sure he could ever forgive his parents for their role in Aimee running away, or the way they attacked Mason in court when they were trying to get Layla into their custody.
They’d chosen their path, and Crew and Mason had chosen theirs and there was nowhere along the path where they crossed. Thank goodness.
But Estelle and her family hadn’t chosen this path. It had come without permission, and it was painful to watch, even from the outside .
A whimper from the door had Crew’s head snapping around. He’d completely forgotten about Layla. Crap.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Estelle cooed, wiping at her face and standing up from the bed. Her head went back and forth between the door and the bed, apparently torn about whether or not she should leave.
“Layla.” Crew stepped in, making another executive decision. Harper might kill him for this one, but he believed in his niece. Holding out his hand, he gave her a smile.
Layla’s eyes were wide, and her shoulders hunched. She was clearly frightened and Crew couldn’t blame her, but she was also old enough to understand not everything in life was rainbows and unicorns.
“Crew,” Estelle warned. “I’ll take her out.”
“Nah,” he said easily, though he wasn’t quite as sure of himself as he made himself out to be. “It’ll be fine.” He turned back to his niece. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” When she finally ran at him, Crew bent and swooped her into his arms. “Mr. Harrison is sick,” he explained, pulling her eyes away from the dying man on the bed. “Sometimes he has trouble breathing.”
Layla buried her face in his neck.
Crew turned to apologize, but Mr. Harrison put up a shaky hand.
“S-she’s…fi…ne…” One side of his mouth pulled up as if to smile, but the man looked exhausted.
Crew rubbed Layla’s back. “I think Mr. Harrison needs a nap, sweetheart. Why won’t we go wait in the family room?” Winking at Estelle and nodding at Mr. Harrison, Crew took his leave.
On his way out, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and shot a quick text to Harper. He hated to have Harper drive over here, but Crew wasn’t going to leave yet. Estelle’s day had started rough, and he wouldn’t leave her on her own. Who knew when and if Mr. Harrison would have more trouble breathing?
Layla’s presence yesterday had been so good for Mrs. Harrison that Crew had thought to bring her again, but this time Layla needed a little space. It was fine. Kids were resilient…he hoped.
Texting done, he sat on the couch and cuddled Layla in his lap. She kept her arms wrapped around his torso, her face buried in his sternum. “Hey, cutie.” He tapped her back. “Come on out, huh?”
Layla sniffled and slowly brought her head up.
“What’s bothering you?” Crew could have guessed a thousand things that had bothered Layla about the situation, but if there was anything he’d learned from working with so many kids, it was to let them talk. Their opinions were often much different than he expected them to be.
Layla ran the back of her hand under her nose, sniffing again. “It made me sad.”
“What made you sad?” Crew ran a hand over her hair, brushing it away from her tear-streaked face.
“Papa Harrison,” she whispered thickly. “He looks different.”
Crew nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. He does.”
Layla’s blue eyes met his. “It looks like he hurts.”
Crew’s shoulders relaxed. “You know…I think he does hurt.”
Layla’s bottom lip trembled. “Can you make it better?”
Palming the back of her head, Crew pulled his niece forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. Bless the kid for worrying so much about someone else. “There’s not anything we do,” he said. “Sometimes people get sick, and there’s no medicine to help them.”
Layla collapsed against his chest again. “I don’t like it when people hurt,” she whimpered.
Crew took a deep breath and kissed the top of her head again. “Me either,” he murmured, his thoughts jumping straight back to the woman in the room with her father behind them. “Me either.”
He hoped Estelle would stay with her father for just a few more minutes so Layla would be gone and Crew had a good excuse to stay. He was afraid that Estelle would simply tell Crew to go home with Layla if she came out too early, and the experience in the room had only solidified his desire to stay and help.
Layla could go home, and Crew would apologize to Estelle about bringing her. But then he would stay and help her through the day. She’d need someone now more than ever, though he knew she wouldn’t want to admit it.
Estelle had been shaken by her father’s episode, and her ability to handle any other disaster today would be compromised. Crew knew from unfortunate experience that one deeply wounding emotional experience always made other situations feel much worse than they normally would.
Call it Superman syndrome or a hero complex, but Crew couldn’t walk away. Not now. Not when he kept seeing more and more how much she was handling on her own. Everyone in the family relied on Estelle and he wasn’t sure they even knew how much was riding on her shoulders.
Being the oldest child had obviously been a natural title for Estelle, just like Mason had always taken care of Crew and Aimee.
Well…now it was time for the baby of the Turley family to help the oldest of the Harrison family, and Crew wasn’t going to budge until Estelle understood just how serious he was, both with helping her and with exploring the feelings he got every time they were together.
The more time he was in her presence, the more he knew…she was exactly what he needed to fill the void in his life. Now he just had to help her survive until she realized the same thing.