Chapter 8 #2
Lisa had been at the hospital when Stella’s dad was admitted after his heart attack and never released. During those couple
of days, Lisa had brought Stella and Percy gallons of coffee in Styrofoam cups and a never-ending supply of snacks from the
vending machine. They’d spent Lisa’s breaks talking about which books they were reading, debating which ones were worth reading
and which should be used as doorstops. No one had seen as many of Stella’s tears as Lisa had—with the exception of Ariel and
Arnie—and seeing Lisa now felt like being wrapped up in a wool blanket, toasty and familiar.
“Stable, as in he’s going to be okay?”
Lisa nodded. “He’s uncomfortable, but they’ve given him something for the pain. Definitely a heart attack, though, and not
a stroke. He’s lucky you were there. I hate to think about what would have happened if he’d been alone.”
Oh, he wasn’t alone. He was hosting a party with an invite list that included my childhood crush.
Lisa reached across the counter and squeezed Stella’s hand. “Go on,” she said.
Down the hallway, Stella pushed open the door to room 79. Arnie lay inside, hooked to machines that seemed to be keeping track
of every part of him, constantly assessing his vital signs. A breathing machine pushed oxygen into his lungs, and the steady,
rhythmic whoosh of air was almost soothing. Medication given intravenously dripped slowly from an IV bag with a long, snaking
tube that stretched from the bag to his hand. Arnie wasn’t awake, and he didn’t stir when she approached. Stella looked down
at him, wishing his visage didn’t recall images of her dad in a similar position.
She dropped the overnight bag in a chair and then stood next to Arnie’s bed and exhaled. “I’m not sure what you think you’re doing, but you are not allowed to leave me, especially not like this, not with all of these questions. I know there’s something going on. Something’s
not right, Arnie.
“What were you doing tonight? Why are there people in the archives? I don’t know how or why, but I have a feeling you know something big you’re not telling me.” She rubbed her temples.
“This is a lot to handle in one day. Finding you on the floor and meeting that man calling himself Jack in the library. What
did you mean when you said you wanted to tell me about him? And I left the people in there, Arnie. Strangers. In the library, because you asked me to. I don’t know what we’ll find tomorrow, but I’m trying to trust that you know what you’re doing. And we’ve never
talked about my words before, but they might be what saved you tonight, and the purple ones . . .” Stella inhaled a shuddering
breath.
“You’d better heal fast because I have questions, and I’m expecting answers.” She pressed her cold fingers against the warm
skin of his hand. Her heart squeezed just as a machine beeped. “You get some rest and come back home. That’s an order.”
A nurse opened the door and pushed in a cart loaded with smaller machines. “Need to check a few things.”
Stella nodded and slid out through the open door, clicking it shut behind her. She stopped by the nurses’ station and had
a quick conversation with Lisa before driving home. Once she was home, Stella pulled up the library schedule. Melanie was
on vacation for a couple days, so she called Vicki and Dan to ask if they could come in on their day off tomorrow to help
since Stella wasn’t sure when Arnie would be able to return to work.
Then she texted Ariel. Arnie had a heart attack. I found him tonight in the archives. He’s at the hospital and stable. Call me tomorrow?
Ariel texted back almost immediately. Do you want to talk now? Should I come over? I’m so sorry, Stella.
Stella wrote: No, I’m exhausted, but thank you. Tomorrow?
Ariel responded: Of course. Get some rest.
Stella wanted to mention the people in the archives, specifically Jack Mathis, but she was afraid Ariel would think she’d
lost her mind or was so overcome with worry that she was batty. Besides, Stella wasn’t even sure what would happen tomorrow.
Would she find the archives empty?
She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her empty hands, remembering the day she lost her dad, which made her think of
the weeks following her mother’s absence, and more recently of Wade walking out of her life like it was the easiest thing
he’d ever done. She glanced at the lamp on her end table and remembered a day when Wade called her his “lighthouse,” saying
she was like a light in the darkness, giving him hope. Turquoise words tumbled through her room like waves rolling onto the
shore. She reached for her notepad and wrote.
When the ocean was not blue
but a wild, relentless fury,
when it caught you,
tossed you, pushed you under,
when you knew you were lost,
I stood waiting, welcoming,
high above the spray
and the violence,
lighting a path to safety,
to rest, to peace,
to my arms
when you needed that more
than you needed air,
I was your lighthouse, your love.
Stella reread the poem. Every relationship, every experience, every heartbreak had given her words. Words that reminded her
of the past but also words that healed.
She closed the notebook, turned off the light, and lay back on her bed. She pulled the sheets up to her chin and gripped the
soft fabric in her fingers, closing her eyes. Without meaning to, she found her thoughts drifting to Jack, which caused a
stirring in her chest that crept down to rouse a long-sleeping emotion inside her. What if Jack Mathis was in the archives
tomorrow when she got there? Could it be possible to have an actual conversation with him? What would she even say to a fictional
man she’d adored for years? Her heart rate elevated as her stomach filled with jitters. The wobbly ceiling fan blew paper-thin,
illuminated orange words around her room. Devotion. Different. Desire.
Her thoughts shifted. She imagined Arnie lying in the hospital bed, and tears pooled behind her closed eyelids. When she rolled
over, the tears leaked down her face and onto the pillow. She opened her eyes and saw more words curled up on the faded carpet
beside her bed. Uncontrollable. Hearts. Safe. Past relationships had taught Stella that when it came to love, the heart was never safe. Why did those words cuddled up together make her think of Jack Mathis?