28. Ember
EMBER
The brave face I put on this morning feels like a facade until I start doing work around the house. Before the sun even shines in through the windows, I’m cleaning up the different stations since everyone left in such a hurry the night before.
It still feels crushing the way it all went down, and the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint anyone, but there’s more hope this morning.
In fact, the mayor’s office will be my first stop.
Devon will probably be over soon, and he can accompany me to a meeting with his mother where we can best decide what the next course of action is.
It’s probably a longshot to put something in place for tonight so that I can take the bed and breakfast’s slot, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.
As Devon said last night, we can rally the town.
We can get the other town offices involved.
The good thing is this isn’t New York City, or hell, even Greenville.
It’s small enough that the hoops we have to jump through are smaller than others.
I’m just finishing up sweeping the entire floor and making the rounds in the haunted house to make sure none of the kids left anything behind or put something out of place when my phone rings. I peer down in the dark when my screen lights up and see Mrs. Lachey’s name. Perfect.
“Mayor, I was just about to call you. Can Devon and I meet with you today about what happened last night? I’m really sorry about not answering your calls yesterday, but I was in a bad place. I appreciate you checking on me though.”
“Ember,” she says, and her voice breaks.
I emerge from the haunted house, and the fear that rattles up my spine has nothing to do with the scenes I just exited. This is a real feeling of dread.
“It’s Devon. He’s in the hospital.”
“What?”
She takes a deep breath. “Last night as he was getting home, he tripped on a ball that a neighbor kid had forgotten to pick up, and he’s insisting that he tore his ACL again, but we don’t know for sure,” she tacks on.
My stomach drops. Poor Devon. We’ve only briefly touched on the accident that ended his hockey career, but I could always feel the emotional toll it took on him to have that happen. To wish for something so badly for a long time and then have it ripped away from you…
“Where is he? I’m coming to see him.”
“He’s in Heritage,” she sighs, because even though this is her son she’s talking about, she can’t let the town rivalry go. Next, she’ll be wanting to get Harvest Falls a hospital.
“I’ll be right there.”
“Well, he said—.”
Before she can even finish her sentence, I end the call, run through the house to grab my sweatshirt and jump in the car that barely lasted long enough to bring me here. It did though. It soldiered on, bringing me to Devon, and right now, he probably wants me there.
I make the trip to Heritage as quickly as I can with my GPS telling me where to turn.
When I arrive, I find a small hospital, maples lining the street in front of it.
I have to agree with the mayor, Heritage is nice, but it’s no Harvest Falls.
Though, I’m not sure she would even deign to describe this town as being “nice.”
Cesspool, maybe.
My heart thumps as I make my way through the automatic doors. The bleach smell of a hospital immediately fills my nostrils as soon as I set foot inside as if it has to over-market that they’re a clean facility free of germs.
I stop at the tiny desk there, asking where Devon is, and I’m directed down a long hallway with hospital rooms on either side. I stop outside room nine, spotting Mrs. Lachey right away. She stands, and I walk in, spotting Devon’s leg first and then his whole body as I get around the curtain.
Relief filters through me. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he says gruffly.
His face is pinched. His eyes have a faraway look.
I’ve seen Devon mad before, even had some of his anger directed at me, and that’s what I sense when I look at him.
Except, it might be worse because he also appears desolate.
Some sort of brace protects his leg, but he pulls the sheet over it.
I step toward the head of his bed when a man walks in behind me. “Mr. Lachey.”
I move in next to the bed, watching as the doctor stands on the other side. He eyes Mrs. Lachey and then me. “I’m his girlfriend.” I don’t know why those words come out. Devon and I haven’t even discussed it yet, but they ring true.
The doctor nods. “Well, I’ve gotten the chance to look at the x-rays now. It’s what you thought, Devon. ACL tear.”
His mom gasps. “Oh no.”
I peer over at her briefly. Her hands rests on her cheeks, staring at her son as if she’s lost.
Continuing, the doctor says, “Since you’ve gone through this before, you know the deal. Surgery. You’ll have to be off your feet for some time. Your movement will be restricted.”
While the doctor talks, I take a deep breath knowing that Devon is going to need me more than ever now.
He won’t be able to work on the manor, which isn’t a concern right now.
My worry is for him. It’s how he’s going to move past this and be able to do things in his everyday life for the bit of time he’ll be laid up.
Devon just nods, so the doctor ends with, “I’m sorry it’s such bad news. I can get you in touch with a local orthopedic surgeon. I know you had your last surgery done in Buffalo. It’s up to you.”
Devon doesn’t say anything. He takes so long to answer that I peer over and find him grinding his teeth together. He doesn’t look like he has any intention of answering whatsoever.
Mrs. Lachey speaks up. “We’ll get back to you on that, but I do think it would be easier to have it done locally, Dr. Shaz, so if you could refer us to a few people, that would be fantastic.”
After nodding, he says, “We should have you out of here shortly. You’ll need help once you get home.”
“I can help,” I say quickly.
The doctor gives me a smile, and I thank him. He leaves the room, whistling as he does. Devon still hasn’t said anything. His demeanor is scaring me. I’m close to asking Mrs. Lachey if there’s anything I should be doing when he finally speaks. “Mom, can you give us a minute?”
“Devon…”
“Mom.”
She turns toward me frowning. After coming around the bed, she reaches for me and pulls me into a hug. “Don’t take any of this personally, and please, don’t give up on him.”
The mayor lets me go before I have any time to process what she’s just said. A twisting feeling starts in my gut.
“Ember, you need to make sure you fight Nichols.”
“I was. I am,” I stammer out.
“You shouldn’t give up on your dream because people push back. It’s not right.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Yeah, we can do that.”
It takes him a moment to peer over at me, and when he does, he shakes his head.
He goes to talk, but then he clears his throat like the words somehow get stuck in his mouth.
“We’re not going to do anything,” he says.
“I’m not who you need right now, so go off, fight Nichols.
My mom will help you. Good luck on everything,” he tacks on the end as an afterthought.
I stand there mute for a moment. “What are you saying, Devon?”
He shrugs, then gestures at his leg. “I’m not who you need right now.”
“So, you think the only reason why I like you is because you fixed my house and built me a kids’ attraction?
” When he doesn’t respond, I shake my head.
“I don’t get it. You’re being weird right now.
This was hard to hear and there are probably so many emotions going through you right now, but I can be there.
I can do both. I can work on the manor and be there for you.
If you want, you can move into the manor so I can keep a better eye on you. ”
“Ember.”
The way his face sits steadily, almost emotionless, it makes my heart start to go cold. “I don’t get it.”
“I can’t help you. I can’t help the town. I’m worthless, Ember. It’ll be like before, and I’m not taking you down with me. Go live your life. Do everything you want to with the manor.”
“This is such an extreme reaction, and I would like to remind you that you aren’t just a…contractor to me,” I splutter out. “I just told the doctor I was your girlfriend for crying out loud. You’re only going to be laid up for a little while. Don’t be ridiculous.”
So many times recently—so many—when we’ve been wrapped up in each other’s arms, I’ve started to think about the future. I’ve loved the way we’ve fit together, how everything seemed to click into place for us once we stopped fighting it.
He’s an emotional guy, but even this is over-the-top. “It’s just your leg.”
Immediately, I know it was the wrong thing to say because his face morphs from impassiveness to anger. “Just my leg?”
“It’ll heal,” I correct my earlier words. “I’m not downplaying the severity, I’m just saying—.”
“My body is my livelihood,” he grinds out. “I fix things. I help people. The surgery might not even work. Do you know only seventy percent of people make it back to pre-injury levels of use? Ask me how much that decreases with a second tear.”
“I’m sorry. I—.”
“You just don’t want to admit it’s over. I should’ve known nothing ever works out for me, so I don’t know why I thought you and I could be different.”
I step back. “But the manor and the well…”
“Fuck the well.”
I blink. Gone is the hopeful guy who stood in front of me and told the story about the well.
Plus all the other stories he heard through the grapevine about Mr. Lewis and his grandfather who’d wished for his grandmother.
He made it sound so magical. He made it sound as if his grandparents had the best relationship because of the well.
I shake my head. “I hate to break it to you, Devon Lachey, but the well doesn’t make great relationships, people do. Your grandparents stuck together because they made it work. Even when times were difficult.”
“You don’t know anything about it.”
He’s right. I don’t. I’m a girl who had a dream and even screwed that up, but I was beginning to think if I lost the manor, I’d still have Devon. I thought he might be able to be my savior in some way, but all this time, he was looking for an easy out.
He found it with his leg.
I swallow hard. “You’re right.” Shrugging my shoulders, I take another step back, then another, wishing he would stop me at any point.
It’s hard to justify his reaction. I know he’s hurt and all these words are coming from someplace dark inside him, but he’s still the one saying them.
He’s the one giving up on us the moment something goes the least bit wrong.
Had I started this? Should I have let him spend the night last night even though I just wanted space to be in my feelings?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
All I know is he’s choosing this right now, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.
“Thanks, Devon, for all of your hard work on the manor. Make sure you send me an invoice for what I owe you.”
Before he can respond, I twist on my heel and walk out.
The walk turns into a jog, and then the jog into a run as I try to make it outside before the waterworks turn on.
When the automatic doors open in front of me, I run right past Mrs. Lachey who tries to stop me.
“Not right now,” I call out, and then I get in my car and leave.
These have been the worst two days. First, my dream gets squashed, and then…my dream gets squashed.
Somehow, Devon has taken on the role of my parents. He doesn’t think I can save this. Save us.
Maybe he’s right.
Looks like I won’t be meeting with the mayor today, or maybe ever.
Because right now, the last thing I want to do is be in a town with the person I love but can’t be with.
I always thought it would be the manor that would kick me out of Harvest Falls.
I definitely didn’t see Devon doing it, and I certainly didn’t see him breaking my heart while he did.