Chapter 28 MJ #2

“Joe and a couple of the guys are going to break me out of here tomorrow,” he jokes, but Lindsey remains stone-faced. “They need you at the clinic. I’ll be okay. Maybe you could come by my place after work?”

“Sure,” Lindsey answers.

“Let me know you made it home, okay?” he says to Lindsey.

“I will.” She pinches her lips shut like she’s trying to trap her emotions inside.

My mind drifts to our conversation in the bathroom.

Did I say the right things? Maybe I said too much.

I didn’t mean to add to her already mounting fears.

I want my daughter to have someone to spend her life with, but I don’t want her to fall in love and have regrets one day if the cost becomes too great.

Whether she chooses to walk this path with Oliver or not needs to be her decision.

Part of making a choice like that is understanding the risks.

Lindsey gives him a quick kiss, and I wave as we head out the door.

Joe leads us through the labyrinth and back out the way we came.

He and the blonde from earlier, who appears to be his wife, walk out with us, followed by the rest of the crew, who was waiting in the lobby.

We wearily bid everyone a good night in the parking lot, heading in the direction of our cars.

“How do you feel?” I ask when we reach her SUV.

She fixes her eyes on the sky as though she’s seeking guidance from the stars.

“I know what happened to Oliver tonight is just part of the job for him, and he’s so brave.” Her eyes turn glassy when she meets my gaze. “But I don’t know if I am.”

“I understand, sweetheart. I do.” Because I don’t know if I’m brave, either. Of course, I don’t tell her that. “Whatever you decide, I’m here for you. Do you want to ride back with me? I can bring you to your car tomorrow.”

“That’s okay,” she says. “I think I’m going to drive around for a bit. Clear my head.”

I envelop her in my arms, lingering a moment longer than usual. I’m searching my brain for something, anything, I can do or say to make her feel better. Then it hits me.

“Lindsey, about what you said on Thanksgiving,” I start. “About celebrating at Ben and Ellie’s. Maybe we could try—”

“Actually, let’s just forget about that for now.”

I blink. “What? Why? I thought this was what you wanted.”

She shrugs. “I thought it was too. But maybe you had it right all along. I mean, why change something that’s perfect as it is?”

I press my lips together and nod, but there’s a pit growing in my stomach. Was I right? Is it still perfect? Now I’m not so sure.

Lindsey kisses my cheek. “Love you, Mom.”

“I love you, kid. Don’t ever forget that. I’ll see you back at the house.”

She gets in her car and I go on my way. I check my phone before driving off and see a missed call from Ron. In all the commotion, I didn’t have a chance to fill him in. Once I’m on the road, I use the Bluetooth to give him a call and let him know what’s happened.

“Geez. That’s terrifying,” he says. “But he’s okay? You saw him?”

I try to keep my tone upbeat. “Lindsey and I got to see him briefly, but we left so he could get some rest. He was in good spirits. Already talking about going back to work.”

Ron chuckles. “Suppose that’s a good sign. How’s Doc? I imagine tonight must have shaken her up quite a bit.”

“It did. I…I think tonight has given her a lot to consider—about how much she’s prepared to handle, I mean.”

“Oh?” Ron asks, concern creeping into his voice. “You think his job might be too much for her?”

I heave a sigh. “It could be.”

He clicks his tongue. “That’s too bad. I gotta say, I thought they’d be in it for the long haul.”

“Mm-hmm. Me too.”

There’s a momentary silence on the other end of the line.

“Myra Jean,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh yes. Just a bit tired.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” he asks. “I assume hospitals aren’t exactly the easiest place for you to visit. I’m sure being there dredged up a lot of feelings.”

My thoughts travel the inky black highway to my daughter and the forlorn look that had taken up residence in her eyes.

The ease with which she gave up on the idea of changing how we spend Christmas, knowing how important it was to her.

What kind of life will she lead if she never does anything differently, never lets anyone in, never takes another risk?

I swallow hard. The answer feels dangerously familiar.

“I’m fine.” A lump forms in my throat, and I mentally begin putting my walls back up, brick by brick. Having only had them down for a short time, the task is easy, as though I’m relying on muscle memory.

Ron pauses, and for a moment, I think he’s going to press the issue.

“Okay,” he relents. “I’ll let you go so you can focus on the road. Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes. Tomorrow,” I say. “Tomorrow is good.”

“Perhaps we can grab dinner together?”

I clear my throat. “Um, maybe. I’ll have to let you know.”

Another pause. “All right, then. Sleep tight, Myra Jean.”

“You too,” I say before ending the call.

My mind races, stopping only long enough to wrestle with my heart, letting me know sleep won’t be in the cards for me.

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