THIRTEEN
Rose
I fan myself with a financial report, leaning back into a conference room chair with a sigh of exasperation.
“Dramatic much, Rose?” George asks, hunched over the table with his shirtsleeves rolled up and a pencil between his teeth as he studies his own copy of the report.
“It’s like a sauna in here,” I complain, undoing the top button of my blouse. “Joe needs to hurry it up.”
He points to a spot on the page and pulls his brows together. “These numbers aren’t right. I think I need to run them again.”
“Which ones?” I peer at my own sheet to search for the error, but only for a moment, because the door swings open and the person who walks in is very much not Joe.
I sit up quickly and rebutton my blouse as Nate crosses to the thermostat without so much as a greeting.
“When did it stop working?” he asks without looking at us.
“Yesterday around three,” I reply simply, wishing I could sink under the table and disappear.
Nate’s shoulders tense at my voice, but he doesn’t turn. He unscrews the cover and fiddles with the wires. “Seems like a faulty sensor.”
“How long will it take to fix?” George asks, crossing his arms.
Nate scratches his beard and steps back from the thermostat with a sigh. “I’ll have to go pick up a new one.” He turns from the wall and finally lifts his eyes to mine. A complaint about the heat was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it when our gazes connect because the look on his face burns a hole in my heart.
He’s sad. And dang it, he’s not even trying to hide it. I was hoping we could slip back into what we had before; passive aggressiveness and annoyance.
But dang it.
I’m freaking sad too.
I look away.
“My truck’s in the shop to get new tires this morning. I have some other work to do in the building, then a friend is picking me up in an hour.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Should have you all set by noon.”
George turns back to his report and taps his pencil against it. “That’s fine. As long as it gets done.”
“Heat’s off now, so it should start to cool down.” Nate looks at me, straight-faced again. “Sorry about the inconvenience.”
“So, where’s Joe?” I ask with a raised brow.
“Sick.” He pockets his screwdriver. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to be back again.” Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small folded piece of paper. He hesitates briefly, then steps toward me and sets it on the table. “From Kara. I didn’t look at it.”
I open my mouth to ask him what it is, but he turns and leaves so quickly I don’t have a chance.
“Well, he’s in a mood, isn’t he?” George murmurs.
“He’s always in a mood,” I reply bitterly as I pick up the paper and slowly unfold it. It’s a drawing, of course. In the center, there’s a small house, covered in snow, and three people are in the front yard, making snow angels, I think. Just like before, the people are labeled. Kara, Dad, Rose.
I sigh and slide the paper into my pocket just as I hear Nate’s phone ring from the hall. I faintly hear him answer it, and I try to ignore it, but the tone he speaks with isn’t right.
“What happened?” he asks urgently, almost fearfully. “Shit… Ok, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
George looks up from his papers and meets my gaze quickly. Something’s wrong.
I stand up and cross the room to look tentatively into the hall, where Nate is fumbling with his phone in one hand. His other is pressed to his forehead. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Is everything ok?” I ask carefully.
His gaze snaps to mine as he lifts his phone back to his ear. “Kara fell on the playground at school. Lost consciousness.” He gulps. “She’s on her way to the hospital.”
My heart drops.
“Trying to see if my ride can get here sooner,” he says with a shallow breath.
I don’t hesitate. “Which hospital?”
“Monticello.” He begins to pace and shakes his phone against his ear. “C’mon…pick up.”
I don’t even question what I do next. I start heading toward my office. “I’ll drive. Let’s go.”
“What?” he says from behind me.
“I’m driving,” I repeat, disappearing through my door briefly to grab my purse.
“Are you…are you sure?” He comes around the corner, eyeing me apprehensively. “It’s a long drive. You don’t have to—”
“Don’t be stupid, Nate,” I push past him back into the hall and hurry toward the elevators. “Let’s go.”
He hesitates only briefly before he catches up and exhales. “Thank you.”
I nod curtly and press the call button as George peers into the hall, looking concerned. “I’ll be back in an hour or two,” I inform him quickly.
“Is everything alright?” he asks.
“It’ll be fine,” I say as the doors slide open and Nate and I rush in. When they close again, I turn to him. “Was she still unconscious when they took her in?”
“Yes.” Nate is shifting his weight hurriedly from one foot to the other.
I picture sweet little Kara being loaded into the back of an ambulance, limp and unaware. I don’t want her to wake up in an unfamiliar place with a bunch of strangers. That’s scary for an adult, let alone a seven-year-old.
Maybe she won’t wake up before we get there. Or…maybe it’s that bad.
“She’ll be ok,” I say quickly, watching the floor numbers tick down.
Nate just stares straight ahead again, paler than I’ve ever seen him. He doesn’t say a thing. In fact, he says barely a word for most of the trip. I drive as fast as I can without risking being pulled over. The roads aren’t too busy mid-morning, thank goodness. But the anxiety pouring off Nate next to me is contagious in the worst way. I suggest a few scenarios where Kara will be just fine. She just got the wind knocked out of her. She’ll wake up laughing because she was having so much fun. But he just stares blankly out the windshield, knuckles white as he grips his phone in his lap.
“They would have called by now if it was that bad,” I say. “She’s probably making friends with the doctors.”
He shakes his head and rubs his hand across his mouth. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she…” his voice is so strained, I feel a lump form in my own throat. Pure anxiety is sitting in my passenger seat. This is a man who’s already lost one of the most important people in his life. And the other is now unconscious in the hospital. My heart drops again. I wish there was something I could do to make this better. But I’m helpless.
Suddenly, his phone rings. He pulls it quickly to his ear. “Hello? …Yes, this is he…”
I hold my breath.
There’s a long pause while he listens. “Ok, and how is she?”
I’m trying to catch his expression while not driving us off the road.
“Yes, please do. I’m about—” He looks over at me.
“Five minutes,” I say quickly.
“Five minutes away. Will I see her before she goes in? …ok, thanks.” He lowers the phone and takes a deep breath. “She’s awake.”
I exhale.
“She’s ok. A little disoriented.” He massages the bridge of his nose. “They’re pretty sure it’s a concussion. They just ordered a CT scan.”
“Thank goodness…” I wipe my hand across my forehead.
“I’m almost more anxious now that I know she’s awake,” he says. “She’s probably so confused.”
“Here’s the exit.” I flip on my turn signal and follow the blue hospital signs.
He braces both hands on the dash and takes a long, deep breath. “Thank you, seriously. You didn’t have to do this. I know you’re busy.”
I almost laugh, because he’s being ridiculous. “My clients can wait. Besides, it’s the least I can do after what you did for me over the weekend.” I chance a glance at him. He’s finally looking at me, watching me with grateful, careful, perfect blue eyes. I have to look away. “Ok, we’re here.”
“Right.” He quickly blinks away as I pull up to the front doors of the building. “Thanks, again,” he says over his shoulder as he climbs out quickly and swings the car door shut.
I watch him disappear inside, and then I pull the car around and find an empty spot in the visitor’s lot. I know I should turn and head back downtown, leaving the two of them to reunite and sort everything out.
But I can’t.
I want to stay. Two days with Kara brought me closer to her than I expected. The thought of anything serious happening to that sweet, smart little girl has me nauseous. I have to make sure everything’s ok.
So, I turn my car off and head inside. I find an empty seat in the waiting room and sink down onto the cracking vinyl. It’s a small hospital. Nothing like the ones we have in the city. It’s so quaint I’m surprised they even have a CT scanner here.
I sit quietly for a long time, studying the artificial ivy that hangs from a wooden shelf on the wall. Sliding Kara’s drawing out of my pocket, I run my thumb over the snowflakes she illustrated so well. Dozens of patients and guests filter in and out, but I barely notice any of them. I just think about Kara. And Nate. And the fear that must have coursed through him when he got that call. My throat tightens and I lift my hand to my mouth, trying to swallow the feeling. I hardly understand why I’m experiencing it so strongly myself. I barely know them.
Yet, the little part of them I do, the part of their perfect little life I was lucky to witness last weekend, is enough to bring me to the brink of tears at the thought of a tragedy befalling either of them again.
They don’t deserve any of it.
I stay on the brink of tears for almost an hour, and I consider asking the nurse at the desk for an update, but she probably can’t tell me anything. I’m not family. So, am I waiting for Nate? He might stay with Kara all night. He might not even have a reason to leave. He doesn’t know I’m out here, so what am I waiting for?
Slowly, I start to stand. I’ll send him a message later just to make sure she’s ok. But in the same moment, the doors swing open and Nate comes through. He’s headed toward the front doors, but he catches my gaze first and stops in his tracks. He opens his mouth and crosses toward me slowly. “What…what are you still doing here?”
I shrug and tuck Kara’s drawing away again. “I wanted to make sure she was ok.” I peer up at him. “Is she?”
He nods and takes a deep breath. “It’s a mild concussion. They’re going to keep her overnight for observation, and she’ll have to take it easy for a few days, but she’s ok.”
I exhale. “That’s such good news.”
Nate watches me with odd curiosity. “I had no idea you were still here. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have left you hanging.”
I wave him off. “No worries. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave…”
He doesn’t say anything. And I don’t blame him. I don’t know why I couldn’t walk away either.
Well, that’s a lie.
I’ve been lying to myself a lot lately.
I clear my throat. “Where are you headed now?”
He looks out the window. “My friend is here. My truck is ready. I’m gonna go pick up some things from home for Kara.”
“Good.” I nod and slide my purse over my shoulder. “I’m glad she’s ok.”
He starts to back away. “Anyway, thanks…for the drive, and for sticking around. I’ve gotta hurry up though. She’s really anxious about being alone.”
I look toward the door from where he came. I hate the thought of Kara being uncomfortable. “Do you, um, do you want me to sit with her while you’re gone?” It comes out before I can stop it, and I know I shouldn’t have suggested it. But bravely, I turn my gaze to his.
He chews on the inside of his cheek and regards me for a moment as if there’s a full-on battle taking place in his head. Then when he exhales, it’s almost a groan.
“I mean, I don’t have to… I just wanted to offer,” I amend quickly. He probably doesn’t want Kara to grow even more attached to me.
“No, no,” he sighs. “You’re probably exactly what she needs right now.” He drops his shoulders and gives me a pleading look. “Would you mind?”
“Not at all.” I try to give him a small smile.
With a curt nod, he checks me in at the front desk and then walks me to Kara’s room. I peer around the corner to see her sitting up in bed. She has a tray across her lap with an unopened coloring book and a box of crayons. She’s staring out the window with a frown, but when she hears us, she turns quickly and her face instantly brightens. “Rose!”
I step inside and grin. “Hi, Kara. How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts.” She shrugs. “What are you doing here?”
“Rose is going to sit with you while I go pick up your things from home,” Nate answers, smiling gently at her.
She claps. “Yay!”
He backs toward the door and gives me a sincere tilt of his head. “I should only be about forty-five minutes. Thank you…again.”
“It’s no problem at all. Take your time.” I cross the room and pull a chair up to Kara’s bed as he leaves. “So, what are we coloring?”
She rolls her eyes and points at the box of crayons. “Nothing very good with these baby crayons.”
I laugh and open the box. “I like crayons.”
“Dad’s gonna bring back my colored pencils.”
“Well, in the meantime, maybe we can each pick a page from your book?” I point toward the coloring book on her tray.
She flips it open and shrugs. “It’s all Cinderella. I like Rapunzel better, but they didn’t let me choose. Cinderella gets on my nerves.”
I smirk. Her concussion hasn’t lost her an ounce of personality.
We color for at least a half-hour, and by the time we’re done, we’ve cumulatively brought life to the pumpkin carriage, both evil stepsisters, and sweet little Gus Gus.
Kara tells me how she fell—off the monkey bars because her hands were slippery from the wet grass—but we don’t linger on the topic. We talk mostly about what she’s been learning at school and how anxious she is about joining the youth soccer team this spring. Apparently, her friend Jackie is ‘really good’ and Kara doesn’t want to look like a ‘newbie’ since this is her first year on the team.
“Have you been practicing?” I ask.
“Yeah, Dad and I have been playing in the backyard.” She puts a finishing touch on Gus Gus’s hat. “He’s pretty good, and I think he’s letting me win. But I think I might beat him for real once I join the team.”
“Maybe Jackie can show you some tricks? I’m sure she would love that.”
She pushes her page away with the others. “Maybe.” She presses her lips together and looks down. A strand of hair falls across her forehead. “She’s kinda a showoff.”
I find myself reaching up to gently sweep her hair back into place. She leans her head into my touch just slightly, and I slide my hand down to hers and grasp it tightly. “You were really brave today, Kara. Being in the hospital alone can be a scary thing. But you did amazing. I wish I were as strong as you.”
She smiles and squeezes my hand back. “I want to be like you . You’re smart, and pretty, and you weren’t even afraid of the chickens even though you never met one before. Sometimes I’m too scared to try new things, but you’re really good at it.”
I turn my eyes to the pumpkin carriage and exhale quietly. Trying new things is what scares me the most—especially with someone so different like Nate. But hearing this seven-year-old’s assessment of me—that I’m already good at it—opens my mind in an instant.
Maybe I’m making the worst mistake.
A few moments later, the door swings open and Nate comes in with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a paper takeout bag. He spots my hand in Kara’s and his focus lingers there while he slowly sets the duffel down.
Kara sits up straighter. “Did you bring food?”
Nate nods and puts it on the table by the window. “I picked up sandwiches.”
I release Kara’s hand and stand.
“What kind?” Kara asks eagerly.
“Turkey and cheese, with extra mayo and no mustard,” Nate smiles. “Your favorite.”
“Yay!” She pushes her crayons to the side and readies herself to eat.
I quietly make my way to the door. “Well, I should head back.”
“I got an extra sandwich.” Nate’s voice is careful behind me. “If you wanted to stay.” He clears his throat as I turn around. “You didn’t get to have any lunch…”
When I meet his gaze, he looks like he’s almost regretting the suggestion, but I smile. “I’d actually like that. Thank you.”
He lets out a shallow exhale and returns my expression. “Do you like turkey?”