Chapter Twenty-One
Kelly
Aweek had gone by since I dropped Reese off at Beth’s, and I was eagerly counting down the hours until we could be together again for my cousin’s wedding.
I was wrapping up my day at the clinic, typing on my computer in my office, when there was a knock on my door. Before I could answer it, Tutu walked in.
“Aloha, Tutu,” I said as she took the seat across from me. I was used to family members showing up unannounced.
“Aloha, my little bird,” she smiled sweetly. “I was in the area and wanted to see if you were coming to trivia at the diner tonight.”
We all worked at my parents’ diner growing up. But it was Kekoa who showed interest and inherited it from our dad a few years ago. Kekoa tried out new ways to attract customers. Trivia night started as a one-time event, but due to high demand, he now hosts it on the last Thursday of every month.
I looked down at my watch and saw that it was almost 5:00 PM. Trivia night started at 7:00 PM, so I would have time to go home before I had to head over.
“Yeah, I think I can swing it,” I said.
“Is that honey of yours going to come?” She winked, and my stomach dropped at the memory of getting caught.
“Nah. She’s working today and tomorrow. She won’t get off until seven, and then she has to be up early tomorrow.”
“That’s a shame. I like what she brings out in you.” Tutu stood to leave, her words catching me off guard.
“What do you mean by that? You’ve barely talked to her.”
“Oh, Kelly, you don’t live as long as I do and not notice the things that are left unsaid. She is right for you.” Her eyes glimmered as if this were obvious.
Without another word, Tutu left, and her words flooded my brain. Reese had always felt right to me, even from day one.
I was halfway home when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out at a stop sign, seeing Reese’s name at the top.
Reese: Can I come over right now?
I looked at the old, red-numbered clock on the dashboard. It was only 5:30 PM—she shouldn’t be off for at least another two hours.
A horn blared behind me, bringing my attention back to the road. A Jeep full of tourists honked their horn and flipped me off as they drove around me. Fucking tourists.
Instead of texting back, I pushed on Reese’s photo, choosing to call her as I cradled the phone to my ear. It rang three times before I heard the other line pick up. At first, I heard nothing, and I thought the call might have been disconnected.
One, two, three beats.
“Reese?” I finally asked.
I heard a shaky breath, “Umm...hi,” her voice sounded so far away. So small.
“Is everything okay? Don’t you work—”
“I had to leave early,” she cut me off. “Can I please come to your house?”
There was a desperation in her voice I had never heard before. “Of course. I would love to see you,” I said truthfully, trying to hide the concern that was now eating away at my chest.
“See you soon,” she said. Before I could reply, she hung up.
After what felt like two hours, but was probably only ten minutes, I pulled up to my driveway to find a familiar silver Prius parked in the carport. I parked behind it, expecting to find Reese sitting in her car.
I approached the front door and saw that someone had already unlocked it.
Reese’s hospital shoes were neatly lined up next to mine.
I opened the door, expecting Ted to attack me the second I stepped inside.
But he wasn’t waiting for me like he had every day since I first brought him home from the Humane Society.
“Reese?” I called out.
“We’re in here!” she yelled back, something broken in her voice.
I followed her voice into the living room, and my heart shattered. Sitting on my sofa, Ted had curled himself around Reese. She’d loosely wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his fur. He moaned when he saw me, as if he wanted me to fix this.
Reese wore a pair of light blue scrubs and had her hair in a messy bun; even with her face buried, she couldn’t hide the streaks of tears running down her splotchy red face.
In the months I had known Reese, I never saw her cry, and I realized, in that moment, I never wanted to again.
I walked over and gently sat beside her, resisting the urge to wrap myself around her like Ted had.
“You know,” I started, my voice casual, “I know you think I am the Ted Bundy in this relationship, but you look pretty guilty right now with this breaking-and-entering stunt.”
A small, humorless laugh escaped her lips as she refused to peel her face away from the dog.
“Maybe I was trying to put the focus on you. That way, you wouldn’t notice my serial killer tendencies. You fell right into my trap,” her muffled voice came from Ted. I could feel her trying to lighten the mood, but there was no fight in her words.
“Reese, look at me.” I reached out, no longer able to hold myself back, and rubbed her back tenderly up and down.
Reese sobbed under my touch, but I didn’t stop. I waited patiently until she finally looked up from the mess of Ted’s fur. Her eyes were more golden than the goddamn sun. She was both the most breathtaking and heartbreaking thing I had ever seen in my entire life.
Without hesitation, I took her face in both of my hands. Ted groaned as he got up and padded away, maybe thinking it was okay to leave now that I was taking over.
“It’s okay. I’m here, ku’uipo,” I said, pulling her close. Reese wrapped both arms around my neck as she slid onto my lap. She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed so deeply I could feel it down to my bones.
“It was so bad, Kelly,” her voice mumbled into my shirt.
“What was so bad?” I held on strong.
“We...I—” She hiccupped as more sobs escaped her.
She didn’t continue, and I didn’t push her. I held her, prepared to hold on tight all night long until she was ready to talk. Her tears penetrated quickly through my shirt and straight into my skin. Straight into my fucking heart.
We stayed like that as I lost all track of time. I thought she might have fallen asleep altogether until her voice broke through the silence.
“Kelly,” she said, voice hoarse from crying. “I’m sorry that I used the spare key to break into your house.”
I huffed out a loud laugh, shaking her whole body with me. “Now that I know what you’re capable of, I will have to get a better guard dog.”
“Yeah, Ted is seriously terrible,” she laughed. “He welcomed me with big, sloppy kisses. He was so excited that I thought he was going to pee on the floor.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” I shook my head, thinking of all the times I had come home only to walk into a giant pee puddle.
She slowly untangled herself, wiping at her eyes and nose subconsciously. “I’m...I’m sorry. I think I got snot all over you.”
“I couldn’t care less about that,” I said truthfully. You didn’t become a vet by caring about things like that.
Neither of us spoke for a moment. I wanted to know what all of this was about, but only if she wanted to tell me. If she didn’t, I wouldn’t force her. My mind wandered back to what I could make her for dinner when her voice brought me back.
“We had a five-year-old die today,” she said as her eyes welled with tears again. Her voice sounded as if it were full of gravel.
I was stunned into silence, unsure of what to say in response. My entire body chilled at the words.
“He and his family are here on vacation. They were at the beach, enjoying the day and playing in the water. His mom said he was making a sandcastle with his older sister, but he decided to step out into the water, and they all laughed as the water kept pushing him back to the shore. But then...” she hesitated.
“Then he went out too far, and a rip current took him right in front of everyone. The dad said one second, he was there, and then the next, he was gone. They rushed in, searching, but the current had taken him almost twenty feet away. The lifeguards jumped into action and pulled him out, maybe three minutes after he was taken under—but it was too late.”
“A bystander called 911, and the paramedics did their best. They brought him to us, the closest hospital, but he was so blue. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a child so lifeless.
He was cold, his lips were purple, and I knew he was gone.
We worked on him for over an hour because we all knew we had to try.
His family was right there, crying and begging God to bring back their baby. Their cries will haunt me forever.”
I was choking on the lump that had formed in my throat, unable to keep back the tears that rolled down my face. I pulled her to me, not sure whether I was comforting her or myself.
“I’ve been an ER nurse for years, and I’ve never seen a child die like this.
You know, we witness a lot of death, and I’m at peace knowing that it’s just part of life.
We have people in their seventies and eighties, even into their nineties, who pass away all the time.
But a kid? That was someone’s entire world; gone, just like that.
He had his whole future ahead of him. He.
..he was just a baby! They came to Hawaii with their baby, and now he has to go home in a coffin! ”
Her entire body trembled with her cries, and I didn’t know what to say to make things better. No words could make this better.
“I was the primary nurse for this sweet boy,” she continued.
“I was there documenting the whole tragedy, keeping it together. But when it was finally over, and we transported him to the morgue, I couldn’t go back to taking care of anyone today.
I’d gotten my charge's permission to leave early. I’ve never left work like this before. ”
Staring into her sunset eyes, I wished I could take away the pain. I leaned in, kissing her temple, moving to each side of her cheeks, her nose, and then kissed the inside of her wrists where I could feel her pulse. “I think they were lucky to have you,” I said.
“I was a part of that family’s worst day of their lives. My face will always be the one they remember when they think back on this,” she whispered.
“Someone needed to be there, and I am proud of you that you could be that person for them.”
She gave me the slightest smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. We sat silently for several minutes. The only coping mechanism I had was to make sure she was fed.
“Do you want to order takeout? We can find a good movie and veg out on the couch,” I said, hoping I could make her night just slightly better.
“I don’t know. I don’t feel like staying in and wallowing, you know?”
I looked down at my watch and saw that it was only 6:30 PM. “How do you feel about trivia?” I asked, a mischievous smile splaying across my face.