Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kelly
Fifty-five missed calls. One hundred and twenty text messages.
Seven voicemails. I had a missed call from every single member of my family.
My head was spinning as I quickly scanned the messages, almost spilling from my phone.
Several were from Kalani, demanding to know where I was.
Some from my mom, saying that the family needed to be all together.
And one single text message from my dad.
Dad: Hey, kiddo. I hope you and Reese are having a good time tonight. If you get this text, come to Pacific Main.
“What’s going on?” Reese had wrapped her arms around my waist, but I didn’t remember her doing so. She was peeking over my shoulder at my text message thread with my dad.
One word kept poking out, and I saw it over and over again. It felt heavy on my tongue as I looked down at my hands.
“Tutu had a stroke,” I finally said, my voice dry and thick, as if I had just woken up.
“Tutu what?” Reese said in disbelief, grabbing onto me tightly. “Where is she? Is she okay?” I could hear the fear building up in her, and I wanted to make her feel better, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know how to make myself feel better.
“She’s at your hospital. We need to go.”
It took us twenty minutes to get back to the marina. I tied up the boat faster than I ever had before we started bee-lining our way to my truck. My fingers were slightly shaking as I tried and failed several times to put my key in the lock.
“Fuck!” I screamed in frustration.
“Here.” Reese took the keys from me and easily inserted them. “I’m going to drive.”
“No, I’m okay.” I reached for the keys, but she pulled them closer to herself.
“I’m driving,” her voice was strong, and her eyes were steady on me.
I decided not to argue with her as I got into the passenger side of my truck. I dialed Kalani’s number, and she answered on the second ring.
“Where the fuck are you, Kelly?” she huffed quietly, obviously not wanting to be overheard by others.
“I’m sorry. Reese and I were out on a boat on the North Shore. I didn’t have any cell service. Dad knew where I was.” The clock on my dashboard glowed red, showing it was almost 9:00 PM. “How is she? What happened?”
“I’ve been told she’s stable,” her voice was softer this time. “She was performing tonight with her band. I told her she’s getting too old to be doing these late holiday parties! But does that woman listen to me? No! She thinks—”
“Kalani!” I interrupted her rant.
“Right, sorry. Anyway, I guess she was playing her bass when she dropped it all altogether. Her entire left side went numb, and she couldn’t talk!
They called 911, and then paramedics brought her here.
But I haven’t seen her yet. Mom and Dad are back with her right now.
Did you know these fuckers have a two-visitor policy? ”
“It’s a normal thing for the emergency department,” Reese cut in. “It’s hard to do our job if there are too many people in the room.”
“What did Reese say?” Kalani asked.
“She said they don’t need sailors like you in the room,” I tried to joke, but even I could tell it was forced.
“Reese would never talk to me like that. Are you guys on your way?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah, we’re on the way. Probably about...” I looked at my GPS, which had directions to Waikiki pulled up. “Forty-five minutes, give or take.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
She hung up quickly, leaving me staring at my phone. We were silent as Reese drove, but I could feel her eyes glancing over at me every few minutes. I kept my gaze fixed on the blur of dark palm trees and bushes blending into each other.
Tonight was one of the worst nights of my life. Between the reality of Reese leaving and now Tutu being in the hospital, everything felt completely out of my control. I should have been there when Tutu was rushed to the hospital, not on a boat, making a complete fool of myself.
I didn’t regret telling Reese how I felt. I just felt this overwhelming shame that I wasn’t there for Tutu when she needed me. She had always been there for me, and I should have been there for her.
“It’s not your fault,” Reese’s voice felt suddenly so loud in the silence that had been between us. Had she been reading my thoughts? Or maybe I was just that easy to read.
Reese’s eyes were focused on the road as she bit her lower lip, something she always did when she was stressed.
“I know,” I said quietly. I knew I hadn’t caused this, but it still didn’t make me feel any better.
“She’s in good hands. We’ll find out the full story, and we’ll figure out how we can help," her face was determined. I could tell she had shifted into nurse mode.
I sighed, closing my eyes and dragging my hands through my hair.
We drove in silence the rest of the way, and I was grateful Reese didn’t push me to talk.
When we arrived at the hospital, Reese parked the truck in the only spot available, all the way in the very back. The parking lot was full.
“I hate drinking holidays,” she said as she unbuckled. “The ED gets flooded with all kinds of accidents.”
I got out of the truck, feeling a little unsteady on my feet.
I had been here many times before during the months Reese worked here.
But this time, it felt different. The butterflies of excitement that used to come from knowing I was just a few feet away from seeing one of my favorite people were gone.
Instead, all I felt was nervousness and fear that I might lose someone I cared about.
I started walking forward, and Reese grabbed onto my hand, giving it a tight squeeze. She looked ahead and led me to the front, somehow knowing I needed her to take the lead.
We walked in, hand in hand, and Reese went straight to the security officer.
“We’re here to see Alani Iona,” Reese said, her voice strong.
“Reese?” A redhead from triage walked out from the back.
“Hey, Tara. I’m here—”
“To see Kelly’s grandma. I thought you might be coming in.” Her green eyes were sympathetic. “Come on back. The rest of his family is here in the waiting room.”
Reese released my hand as we emptied our pockets and walked through the metal detector. On the other side, I saw the horde of my people taking up a third of the waiting room.
All around us, other patients were crying, vomiting, and writhing in pain. I was shocked to see about thirty people waiting to be seen.
“You guys are busy tonight,” I said.
Tara made a slight huff sound and said, “Yeah. It’s pretty normal for a holiday around here. We are full in the back and don’t have any more rooms on the floor. I think your grandma will get our last ICU bed.”
“ICU?” I said, picturing my poor Tutu with a tube down her throat. How severe had this stroke been?
“Yeah, she got TNK,” she explained, more to Reese than to me.
Reese nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t reply. I had so many questions, but Tara was already making her way back to the triage desk. Reese took me by the hand as we made our way to the Iona corner.
Kahale was the first to spot us and hopped up from his seat to come hug me. He had red eyes and dried tears streaked his face. Seeing this made me feel like I was going to cry, too. Reese’s hand didn’t leave mine, even as Kahale hugged me.
“How is she?” I asked as he released me.
“I think she’s stable. That’s what everyone keeps saying, but I don’t even know what that means. I haven’t seen her yet.”
“Where’s Emily?” I asked, as I looked around and saw Kekoa, Kalani, Jer, and all of Tutu’s band members.
“She, uh, has a migraine. She wanted to be here,” he said, but I didn’t believe him for a second.
I knew right away that Annie was at home with the kids and that Kalani and Jer probably had a neighbor keeping watch of theirs. But there was no reason Emily couldn’t have been here.
“Don’t bullshit me,” I pressed.
“I’m going to go talk to the charge and see if I get us back for an update,” Reese said. She looked down at our interlaced hands and reluctantly let go. I watched her walk up to Tara, and before she was let back into the main part of the ED.
“Promise you won’t say anything,” Kahale said.
“I promise,” I said, slightly terrified by his intensity.
“Emily is pregnant and struggling with morning sickness. Which seems to be all the time, and not just in the morning.”
“Kahale!” I clapped him on the back.
“Shh!” He looked over at the group, but no one had looked up. “We aren’t ready to tell everyone.”
“Congrats, man. That’s freaking exciting.” It was crazy how I could still feel so much happiness, even during a tragic time.
“Where the hell were you tonight?” Kahale asked, changing subjects.
“Feeling like an idiot,” I said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I asked Reese to stay. To give up traveling and choose me. And she said no.”
“Fuck. That’s rough.” Kahale crossed his arms in front of him. “For the record, I think Reese should stay, and you should leave.”
A dry laugh escaped me. “Thanks for that, but it doesn’t matter. She’s not going to stay.” I shook my head.
“So? Go with her,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I can’t just leave. I own a business here. And look at where we are. I’m needed here. I don’t want to be thousands of miles away and find out something happened to one of you guys.”
“Sure, you can. We survived when you left for vet school. Maybe you two just need a couple of years to travel before she’s ready to settle down here. You can always come back.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
“You may have been fine while I was gone, but I barely survived. I was miserable.”
“It’s different now,” he said as his dark brown eyes looked at me like I was an idiot. “This time you’ll have Reese. If she’s the one, you can’t let her go.”
I tore away from his gaze and stared down at my shoes. Did I love Reese enough to give up the only home I’d ever known? To leave behind a business I had spent years building and maintaining?