Chapter Twenty-Nine
T he next morning, Deirdre slowly opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed into the bedroom where the blinds hadn’t been completely closed last night.
Last night, they had turned into each other’s arms to sleep. She studied the relaxed expression on Calvin’s face.
He was alive. Safe. Healthy.
Wow, healthy indeed.
Last night was amazing, of course. Several times they had connected in tangles of kisses and limbs.
Letting go of residual fears had left her feeling closer to him but also raw and vulnerable.
She couldn’t stop to dwell on the what-ifs of life’s uncertainties down the road.
Like how normal relationships worked.
She closed her eyes. Normal relationships.
Trust. Hope. Communication.
Living in the present without being paralyzed by the past or the future. That was what Deirdre wanted.
When she opened her eyes, Calvin was watching her with a thoughtful expression in his gray eyes. Eyes that she could fall into over and over again.
“Morning,” he said as he planted a kiss on her forehead.
Somehow that action, with them in bed with mere inches separating them, was as intimate as what they had done last night.
“Good morning,” she murmured.
Deirdre snuggled into the warmth of the bed and his body, tucking her cheek against his chest. She inhaled his scent of aftershave and warm, sexy male.
He tugged the blanket up and smoothed a hand over her shoulder. “Big day today.”
Her heart thudded. Why?
At her expression, he added, “Breakup Festival. Dunk for hospice. Icy plunge for dollars?”
“Mmm. Yep.”
In unison, they both stretched and rubbed against each other with twin whimpers at the warm, sensual friction.
A minute later, he sat up and winced slightly when his face intersected the beam of dawn light.
“You okay?”
“Bright sunshine still takes some adjustment.” He raised a hand to block the light. “I’m good.”
She hopped out of bed and closed the blinds. “Think coffee will help?”
“How could it not? Does it come with anything else, like bacon or eggs?” He held his arms out to her, and she tumbled into his embrace.
“I can see what the chef can whip up.” She laughed.
He wrapped her in his arms and planted a kiss on her neck, his lips drifting to her breasts. Then he glided a hand over her abdomen, teasing even lower, and said, “A different kind of breakfast could be better.”
After a few more kisses and toe-tingling licks, she swatted him. “Hey, we have work to do today. Charity. Dating. Working the hospital event. Assorted tomfoolery. There’s a schedule to keep.”
“You’re good at flipping into admin mode.”
“Is that bad?”
“It’s accurate.”
“Fair enough.”
After showering, they slipped on clothes that had to be retrieved from various locations in the house. Then they enjoyed a nice breakfast together, punctuated by little touches and the occasional heated kiss.
With a dark frown, Calvin glanced at his buzzing phone.
“Anything going on?” she said, not trying to pry.
He blinked. The expression shifted to a carefully neutral look. “Nope.” His voice remained rock-steady. “Need to take care of something quick before the festival. No big deal.”
“Can I help?”
“You can come here for a few more seconds.” Then Calvin pulled her onto his lap and kissed her one more time.
A few minutes later, he left the house to go get ready for the day.
At noon, in her boots, leggings, long-sleeve thermal shirt and a Yukon Valley Hospital-branded pine green jacket, she left the house. She headed toward the Yukon Valley Fairgrounds, otherwise known as the high school-middle school-elementary school parking lot and adjacent sports field. The event overlooked the river, which, true enough, now flowed downstream, a few straggling ice pieces chasing their way toward the Bering Sea.
The weather, always iffy in mid-April, had hung in there today. It was cool in the fifties, and cloudy skies held back the precipitation so far. Colorful balloons and decorations brightened the ticket booth. Local vendors sold crafts and food. Feats of skill attracted gaggles of children and teenagers, eager to win prizes and impress their friends.
“Hi, Dee,” Mav called out to her. He and Dr. Tipton—Lee—strolled up, hand in hand.
“You both off duty today?” Deirdre said.
“Yes, and our weekend guests are somewhere in the crowd, enjoying the festivities. So, no lodge work this afternoon. We get to have a day out together.” He hugged Lee to his side and they both shared a warm smile that sent a cascade of emotions through Deirdre.
In the end, she was happy her little brother had found someone he loved and who loved him in return. Despite Lee’s petite frame and Mav’s tall bulk, they fit perfectly together.
“You here solo?” he asked, a glint in his eye.
“Real suave, Mav.” She glanced around. “I’m looking for the hospital dunking booth.”
“You volunteering?” His brows drew together as he studied her.
Mav knew why there was no way would Deirdre ever set foot in a device meant to throw her into ice-laden water. An acidic wave of panic climbed her throat at the mere thought.
“No. Calvin’s supposed to take a turn.”
Lee’s blonde eyebrows shot up. “Um. Huh.”
Then she quickly clamped her mouth together but made a slashing motion with her hand. As Calvin’s treating physician, she hadn’t spilled any information, but it was obvious her opinion of his choice of activity.
Deirdre nodded. “ Um is right. That’s exactly what I told him. Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out.”
“I bet you will,” Mav mumbled. “Speaking of reasons why he shouldn’t risk worsening his head injury, is Calvin doing okay? Unofficially speaking.” He lifted a hand in an aside to Lee. “She and Calvin were on a date last night. News travels fast. I’m not breaching HIPAA here.”
Lee’s bright laugh caught Mav’s attention, and he grinned down at her, obviously smitten.
How was Calvin doing? Deirdre knew exactly how he was doing. How every… inch… of him was doing. Seemed healthy to her.
“He’s well.” She gulped. “Any word from those jerks who hurt Calvin?”
“Nothing. Radio silence. Not even the Alaska state troopers can find them.” Mav tightened his arm around Lee. “Which is good and bad.”
“I hear what you’re saying,” Deirdre said. “We’ll have to let law enforcement keep working the case.” She paused as she scanned the event. “Oh, looks like I’m heading over”—she caught sight of several pine-green jacketed participants in a cluster—“thataway.”
“See you later, sis.”
Deirdre wove through the crowd. Every year, all of Yukon Valley as well as the people living in the surrounding villages and homesteads came out to enjoy the unique Breakup Festival. There was a Breakup queen and king contest, as well as a Breakup dance later tonight.
All of the food and drink incorporated the theme of ice, down to the iced cookies and various flavors of icebox pies. Every booth activity had a link to the river or ice as well.
As she approached the Yukon Valley Hospital’s dunk for hospice tank, she laughed as teenagers spurred each other on.
In one booth was Dr. Burmeister, in a wetsuit—smart guy. He was blowing raspberries and making moose ears at the kids while his legs swung from his perch on the platform.
“I delivered some of you people, and I coach the rest of you in basketball. I can’t believe this level of disrespect!” He made his eyes bug out. “I’ve even seen some of you naked!”
The kids roared and hurled balls in manufactured ire, all missing the bull’s-eye in the middle of the bright yellow canvas flap. When the children turned around, hopping up and down and pleading, their parents handed over more tickets so the kids could reload.
In the other booth was Anna Smits, the hospital CEO, who appeared to be in a thermal underwear top over a jog-bra, a crinoline tutu, and a giant sparkly tiara. She also worked the crowd. “Folks, my booth time is ticking down. Hospital staff, now’s your chance. You know you’ve always wanted to dunk on the CEO! It’s for a good cause!”
Jeff Johns, the aging CFO, gamely stepped up, dropped a bunch of tickets in the bucket, and threw. One ball hit the target but didn’t move the lever.
“No fair!” He pointed.
“You have to be accurate and have power, Jeff. Pencil pushing did not prepare you for this challenge!” Anna egged him on.
He wound up again and hurled a few more balls, finally moving the lever with a loud clang of the bell. Anna dropped into the water with a big splash. The crowd cheered.
Deirdre held her midsection but wasn’t laughing. She couldn’t breathe. The flashbacks to her parents’ icy deaths didn’t get better with each passing year of the dunk for hospice. Logically, Deirdre knew it was not the same. She knew.
But the thought of the fall into frigid water. The inability to breathe. It literally swamped her.
Anna emerged, laughing and gasping as an attendant pulled her out, wrapped her in a blanket, and helped her to the warming tent.
Deirdre faked enthusiasm as she clapped and chatted with several hospital staff and families nearby.
Jeff swaggered and high-fived the teenagers.
The kids redoubled their efforts until Dr. Burmeister hit the water after a clang .
Behind the booth and off to the side, she spied Calvin, peeking out from the tent. Her heart melted like the ice in the river.
He winced in the light and shaded his eyes with a hand.
The brightness had to hurt with the constant lingering headache. Yet he appeared prepared to keep his assignment for the hospice booth.
The hospice team had supported Deirdre through Elijah’s end-of-life care. Hospice brought comfort to so many patients and families at the most difficult time in their lives.
Even despite not feeling 100 percent, Calvin was going to fulfill his promise. Raise money. Honor Elijah.
Take a risk, albeit a small one. Accept discomfort in doing so.
She looked at the tank, then to Calvin.
Something in her heart cracked open a tiny bit. Grief persisted, but her heart had grown large enough to fit more. So much more.
“Calvin, wait,” she called out as she hurried over.
His brows shot up and he smiled with a pained squint of one eye. “Nice day for a swim, huh?” He observed the tank dubiously.
“No. I’m taking your place.”
“What?”
She urged him back into the warming tent where Anna Smits and Dr. Burmeister toweled off. Deirdre started shucking layers down to her leggings and thermal top. “Anna, can I borrow your water shoes?”
“Good luck!” The CEO handed them over.
“Deirdre, I know what it is for you to do this.” Calvin’s voice pitched low. He steadied her by an arm as she slipped on the cold, wet shoes in the cool air. “Stop. You don’t have to get in the booth.”
“No. It’s not safe for you with the head injury. I know you cared about Elijah. He was your best friend. I know that you want to raise money for hospice. But this isn’t safe. I’ll take your turn.”
His brows dropped. “Sitting in icy water is the very least I can do to honor Elijah’s life.”
“No question. I know that, and I’m sure Elijah knows it, too.” She smiled as she recalled the time they had spent together years ago as teenagers. The vitality they all had. The friendship and joy. “It’s the least I can do, as well. For Elijah.”
The corners of his mouth tightened.
“For me.” She added, “And for you.”
“You’re one amazing woman.” He brushed a kiss over her forehead.
She didn’t care that her colleagues’ eyes popped open. No more hiding her heart.
“I’m about to be a chilly woman, but for a good cause.”
Calvin drew on pants and a fleece over his own bike shorts and T-shirt.
No lie, he would have looked great up there in the booth.
He grinned when he caught her staring. “Okay, popsicle time.” He held open the tent flap.
The hospice team cheered as Deirdre waved to the onlookers with confidence she did not feel as she walked the ten or so feet from the tent to the tank. Gripping the handrails, she put her foot on the bottom rung of the tank ladder and froze.
“You’ve got this,” Calvin said from right behind her. “I’m going to stay right here.”
Her heart hammered and cold air burned her lungs.
Her hands shook as she climbed the ladder. It was a dunk tank, not a frozen river. Her logical brain knew that. Even as she slowly scooted out on the platform and peered down into the ice pieces bobbing in the water, she envisioned her parents’ last moments. Her eyes burned.
“Go, Dee!” Mav called out.
She met his eyes, and he nodded. He knew what this cost her. Their parents’ death had cost them both.
It was past time for a new start. A reset. She was ready to experience a springtime that held hope instead of fear.
Bundled in her fleece jacket and with a beanie over her wet hair, Anna took over barker duties with a wave of her hands. “All right, folks. By special appearance, we’ve got Yukon Valley Hospital’s chief nursing officer, Deirdre Steen. For the next fifteen minutes, this is your chance.” She closed one eye and peered at Deirdre. “Who’s tired of AIDET training? Sick of never-ending policy updates? Here’s your chance to get those feelings out of your system before you have to do more annual training modules!”
Hospital staff fake-booed, then everyone laughed together. Deirdre peered out at the crowd. Friends and coworkers gathered, smiling and shouting encouragement. Butch and Aggie joined the group and waved. Mav and Lee cheered. A swell of happy community support flowed around Deirdre.
Amberlyn ponied up some tickets and threw the balls halfheartedly.
“You can do better than that!” Deirdre called out, secretly glad that the nurse missed the target.
“I don’t want to add a hypothermic patient to the ED census!” Amberlyn shouted back.
Deirdre swung her legs, feet not quite touching the water. “Is no one brave enough to risk my wrath?”
Tuli, leaning on a cane, stepped up. Where had he come from? The crowd had really grown. He handed a wad of tickets and glanced over at Louise, who stood near her parents and her bundled-up brother Gordy who grinned from a wheelchair. After leaning his cane against the chair and giving Gordy a fist bump, Tuli made a big show of warming up his throwing arm. “This is for all of those seven a.m. meetings!” He lifted his arms, urging the crowd to cheer louder.
Deirdre stuck her tongue out at Tuli but eyed the water warily. She glanced at the digital clock to the side of the tank. She had ten more minutes. What were the chances she would escape dry?
Tuli tossed the ball up and caught it a few times with the obvious skill of someone who had played baseball and the showmanship of a former team captain. He cocked his arm back, but Dr. Burmeister emerged from the tent and stopped him.
“Ah, ah, ah. Former state champions have to stand back farther,” he said.
“Aww,” the crowd mumbled.
Tuli shook his head and limped back another ten feet as indicated. Then he turned toward the crowd. “Hey, folks, do we want this to go viral for a good cause?”
Everyone cheered as Tuli pulled out his phone and hit a few buttons. Handing the phone to Lee, he posed, then spoke into the camera. “A warm welcome coming to you live from Yukon Valley’s world-famous Breakup Festival. We’re here at Yukon Valley Hospital’s dunk for hospice. Don’t forget to like and share my video to support this good cause! Now, let’s see if the best pitching arm in Yukon Valley High School history can still do the job.” He squared up on the arbitrary line Dr. Burmeister had drawn.
First throw—wide.
Some people heckled; others groaned.
Deirdre unclenched her hands from the thin metal seat and took a deep breath.
Dr. Burmeister goaded him. “State champion? What position did you play? Statistician?”
Everyone laughed.
Calvin cheered along behind her. “You’ve got this, Deirdre! Show him who’s boss. Literally.”
Tuli peered at the target and wound up.
The ball glanced off the target but did not activate it.
It was hard to hear the shouts of the crowd over the hammering of her heart. One more ball to go and she might be safe.
Lee held up the phone and panned from the booth back to Tuli.
“Hey, hey. I missed on purpose with that last one. A false sense of security,” Tuli said with a cheeky grin. He winked. “Right, Lou?”
The EMT blushed crimson.
Once again Tuli wound up and fired.
Clang!
The seat dropped out from under Deirdre, her stomach following.
In an instant, ice and water surrounded her, frigid and heavy, stealing her breath, compressing her lungs. Was this what it felt like for her parents, still in the plane and deep in the river? Not able to breathe. Frozen.
She splashed, then stood up, her head breaking the surface, small bits of ice floating nearby. “So cold!” She gasped.
She was alive.
Breathing.
For some reason, she wanted to both laugh and cry.
She had not felt this alive in so long. Almost like her soul had been hibernating for years. Finally, in the fresh air and the promise of spring renewal, she had emerged.
The cheers faded into a dull roar, like her head was in a small barrel. Epiphany over. She’d overcome a huge fear, and she needed out of the tank. Now.
“I’ve got you.” Calvin’s mellow voice calmed her as he reached into the tank and grasped her arms.