Chapter 4
Chapter Four
R ose rushed through a pair of sliding doors just after ten pm, pushing her hair out of her face.
The smell of antiseptic and sterile air hit her as the doors whooshed closed behind her.
This wasn’t her first trip to Asheville Community Hospital.
Two years prior, Magnolia suffered a stroke, which instigated Rose’s move back to Evers Hollow.
A text came in from Broome. They were on the fourth floor. Rose hurried to the elevator bank, tapping her fingers on her bag as she waited.
One bay dinged as its doors slid open. Rose stepped aside as people unloaded. She adjusted her canvas messenger bag on her shoulder and looked up as the last person stepped out.
Her heart stuttered when he glanced in her direction. With a breathy gasp, his name slipped out before she could take it back.
“Finn?” She gripped her bag a little tighter.
The man stopped. When he turned around, a jolt went through her.
Finn Murphy stood six feet away. His eyes were the same as she remembered—dark pools of brown that drew her in, like her favorite brand of chocolate.
His reddish-brown hair had darkened a tad over the years, but still carried that unkempt, windswept look.
Her fingers itched. Was it as soft as she remembered?
He wore faded jeans and a navy sweater, its sleeves pushed up short of his elbows. A backpack rested on one shoulder.
It felt like forever since she’d seen him. A forever that shattered her heart. Otherwise, she would have hugged him. She couldn’t decide if that was wise. Something twisted inside her, an odd sort of pressure in her chest.
She wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but she found herself within reach of him. It would be easier to look the other way, pretend the man who stood before her meant nothing. She needed to get to Magnolia.
Manners though, they were in her somewhere. Ingrained by the woman who lay upstairs in a hospital bed. She should say something. Anything. Before she rushed to the fourth floor.
Her thoughts faltered. What could she say? The last time, words had broken everything.
He spoke first, with sympathy in his eyes. “Broome, the rest of your family, they’re upstairs. They’ll tell you what you need to know.” He shifted on his feet. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay. Got to get home—I have an early shift.”
She couldn’t help it; the exhausted part of her questioned if he was even real. She reached out to touch his forearm, found it warm and muscled. Again, her insides twisted.
“It’s good to see you, Finn.” There. She said words. Courteous ones. Whether she believed them, whether he would, she’d think on that later.
He didn’t move, merely looked back at her with unreadable eyes. “It’s good to see you, too.”
She let go. The elevator had left. She turned and pressed the button to call it again. She wouldn’t watch him leave. Or think about how she felt seeing him after so long.
Her goal: get upstairs, see her grandmother, and ignore the somersault extravaganza inside her.
A glance told her he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t he said he needed to leave?
He stood close enough to rub against if she wished.
His attention was on his backpack, his hand inside, as if searching for something.
She tried to focus on the closed elevator doors, willing them to open.
Finn pulled a small rectangular parcel out of his bag and held it out to her. “Here. This is for you.”
Rose hesitated. Talk about weird. “What is it?”
“It’s how I ended up here. I found these this morning. Take them, please. My mom wanted you to have them despite?—”
Despite what happened between them. Her throat felt clogged. She took the package, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he moved his other hand over hers and squeezed. “I hope your grandmother will be okay. I’ll see you soon.” He stepped back.
“How do you know about—” But he was gone.
The elevator opened. She stepped inside and looked down at the parcel. Rectangular, flexible, and close to the size of her hand. Whatever was inside—she couldn’t deal with right now, not when she knew nothing of Magnolia’s current condition. She slipped it into her bag.
Rose pushed the circular number four as the doors slid closed. She leaned her head against the back wall as the elevator moved upward.
Finn Murphy. Here. The last person she needed to think about.
When she stepped out, Rose spotted Willow pacing up and down a tiled hallway in front of an ivory and light blue wall. Clad in yoga pants and a faded green hoodie, Willow had one thumb shoved just inside her lower lip, her nail likely bitten down to the quick with the amount of worry on her face.
In a loud whisper, Rose said her name. Her sister looked up.
Willow rushed towards her and threw her arms around her. “You made it.”
Rose hugged her back. “What happened? Is she okay?”
Willow eased away. Her eyes were glassy, concern prominent in her expression. “She had another stroke. She has a fever. They’re running tests.”
“Is she awake?”
She shook her head. Rose followed her to the waiting room, where most of the family sat.
Broome stood first and hugged her. His voice was low when he spoke.
“Glad you made it safe. I won’t sugarcoat things.
She’s not well. High fever. They’re trying to bring it down.
I sent Aspen and Gavin back to Briar House to sleep in her old room.
She’s too close to her due date to sit in these chairs.
She spent some time with Grandmother, though. Thorne’s in with her now.”
Rose pulled away from him, a knot of disbelief formed inside her. “But I just saw her. I had tea and scones with her this morning. She looked tired, coughed some, but insisted she was fine. Sassy and stubborn. She practically kicked me out the door to go to my readings.”
“I only know what the doctors have told me,” Broome said. “Grandmother’s a stubborn little warrior. She’ll fight as best as she can.”
Rose stepped back, wiped her fingers beneath her eyes before she took a seat near Willow. This was all wrong. Magnolia had to be okay. There was no other option.
An hour later, she traded places with Thorne. His hug conveyed his worry, his fear. Hers, concern and panic.
She stepped inside the room as quiet as she could.
The whir of machines filled the room. Magnolia looked small in the hospital bed.
Her dark, silver-streaked hair had been brushed to one side, and each of her arms lay atop the blankets covering her.
They had her on supplemental oxygen through her nose, and there was an IV in one arm.
Hesitant and frightened, Rose took a seat in the chair beside the bed and wove her fingers gently between her grandmother’s.
This wasn’t her first stroke, but seeing her here like this, something felt different.
She didn’t wish to wake her, but wanted to let her know she was here. In soft tones, she said, “Hey Gran, it’s Rose. I’m going to sit with you for a bit. We need you to wake up and give us some sass.”
There was no response. She watched her for a bit, comforted by the sight of her chest rising with each breath. A nurse came in to check her vitals. When she left, Rose leaned her head on the side of the bed and kept her hand intertwined. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Finn’s image came to mind. She willed it away. All her mental strength needed to go to Magnolia. She needed to concentrate in order to do that.
But it had been a long day. Rose read at two school libraries in Asheville before coming back toward Evers Hollow. She drifted off with the memory of how warm Finn’s arm had felt beneath her hand.
A kink in her neck woke her. A hint of sunlight lit the room enough for her to see that Magnolia’s eyes were open and blinking. Rose stood up from her seat, wobbly from rising so fast.
“Magnolia? Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you. I’m not deaf.” Her voice sounded raspy and frail, yet still carried the bite she was known around town for. “Where the hell am I?”
“Asheville Community Hospital.” Rose wiped away the tears that filled the corners of her eyes. “It’s good to see you awake, Gran.” She emphasized the last word.
“Impertinent child. You call me Magnolia.”
Rose smiled through her tears. “I know. I’m checking to see if you know your name.”
She gave her one of her infamous glares that said her humor was not appreciated.
Rose didn’t ask how she felt. She was a woman who despised such questions. The doctor would have a hard time when they dropped by next.
She squeezed her hand gently. “I need to tell the others you’re awake. We’ve been so worried.”
“They can wait.” She coughed and winced, accepting a sip of water from a nearby cup with help.
Rose said, “It’s beautiful out—sunny. When you’re better, we’ll get you back to the rose garden, get you some fresh air. I’ll just be a second.”
“Rebel.” Her nickname for how often Rose had gotten into trouble as a child. “Sit down.”
With the words came that look, one that made her sit immediately.
“We need to talk.” Magnolia paused, sent her a look of regret.
Rose swallowed. The fear she’d felt when she walked into the room came back.
Magnolia’s gaze settled on hers. “First, Clara’s boy, Finn. He dropped by.”
The twisty feeling inside her returned. “He came by the house?”
“Yes, he caught me.”
“Caught you?” Clearly, she was missing vital information about what happened yesterday.
“Brigette saw him last week, spoke with him…”
“I saw him. Downstairs.” Rose’s fingers curled in her lap, twisting into the fabric of her skirt.
“Excellent.”
She shook her head as if she were a small child. It had been six years since she’d laid eyes on Finn Murphy. Days, months, years had gone by without an apology, with no attempt at amends for how he’d acted the night of her family’s New Year’s Eve party, after Caleb had proposed.
Finn should have been happy for her. He was her best friend. Instead, he’d been the opposite. His actions, his words that night—no one had said his name in years.