13. Harmony
CHAPTER 13
Harmony
T oby is so distraught about his mom that he forgets about me.
Yeah, I could’ve walked home. It’s actually only a mile or so from the hospital and the rain has let up significantly. I could have even ordered a rideshare. I used them from time to time before Uncle Sammy brought me the Jeep.
But I didn’t want to leave Toby by himself. I knew the staff wouldn’t give me any information on her. But I’ve never seen Toby, usually so unflappable, frazzled before and was concerned for him.
When he tells me that his mom didn’t break anything, his chest deflates as he finally seems to relax a little. The news is exactly what I hoped for.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here. I’m sorry for ignoring you.” His eyes soften when he says it, and I don’t like it. It makes me think of him less as my enemy and more as my friend, especially after all that transpired before his call from that Mrs. Peabody lady. He didn’t need to give me a ride to town or recommend a towing company and mechanic.
“No worries. I didn’t think you were ignoring me. I was having fun texting with my mom. She was filling me in on all the angsty teenage drama with my little brother. He’s sixteen.” I tug a fresh vine of licorice from my recently procured stash and hold it out toward him in offering.
He stares at my licorice, then looks over to the chair next to me and spies my chips, wafer cookies, and moon pie dessert spread that’s strategically spread on a napkin that I laid on the plastic chair next to me.
“I, uh, just wanted to make sure you and your mom were okay. Like you, I’m a good person, and I didn’t want to leave you to deal with it if something terrible happened.” I fold the top of the chips over three times before shoving everything from my chair picnic, except for my soda, into my catchall tote. I almost forget to unplug my phone and take it with me.
“I was just going to the cafeteria. Let me buy you a sandwich or something.” He holds out his arm toward the little café near the entrance of the hospital.
“Oh, you don’t have to, you’ve already done so much for me today. Helping me get my car towed and all that. I’ll just continue with my little chair picnic at home.” Why did I stay? That was so weird of me to do, but part of me needed to know he was going to be okay. I just had to know Toby had someone here if he needed support.
“You’d be doing me a favor while I wait for my mom to calm down. She got worked up, and the nurses suggested I take a break while the medication they gave her kicks in. I’d really like the company.”
His eyes seem sad and tired. I can’t say no. Partly because he does look sad and tired. Like he could really use the company. Part of it is because he’s clearly distressed with the way he totally forgot about me and ran for the emergency room when we got here. I’m not the kind of person who leaves when others are in need of help. He didn’t leave me in the rain with a disabled vehicle when he totally could have. Who am I to do that to him? I’m weirdly loyal like that. Even if someone can’t stand me, apparently.
This does not bode well for my future romantic relationships, but then again, explains so much. It might be my flaw, being loyal to a freaking fault to people who can’t do the same for me. People like Rob.
I accompany Toby to the cafeteria. It’s a typical albeit outdated area, complete with chairs made from faded blue plastic and faux wooden tables. Not unlike the hospitals back in Southern California. I volunteered in the café of one in high school at the suggestion of my guidance counselor for college applications, and I can still remember how modern and technologically advanced it was until you got to the outdated cafeteria.
I get soup while he chooses a sandwich. We sit at a table at the window overlooking the front of the hospital. It’s darker outside now than it was before, but I can see the puddles from the rain have stilled thanks to the lights from the hospital. In here, Toby seems reserved as he picks at his roast beef sandwich. And it’s different because I’m not used to quiet Toby.
The silence, something I’d usually appreciate, seems overburdened and suffocating, so I try to cut through it with small talk. Even though, like my father, I’m not that good at it. “So, a bookstore?”
“It’s a family business. Owned by my dad, and his dad before him. I grew up in it, knowing one day it would be mine. And now it is.” His head cocks to the side, and he looks at me. “A coffee shop?”
Nodding, I mimic him. “I love coffee and music. It’s my way of combining the two—a rockin’ coffee shop by day, a small music venue for upcoming local musicians by night.”
“But why Port Haven when you’re from…” His voice trails off, and I get the hint it’s because he’s waiting for me to fill in the blank.
“Montana until I was seven, then Southern California.” They were different worlds, something I didn’t realize until after I moved when my dad found out about me and took me from Mrs. Shelly, my permanent foster mom.
I take a spoonful of what is probably the best tomato soup I’ve ever eaten. It’s so creamy and has just the right amount of spice. I can’t believe something this good exists. And in a hospital cafeteria, no less. “This is freaking amazing,” I say, motioning to the bowl with my spoon. “Like out of this world. It reminds me of the soup at my favorite deli, West & Vine, back in Southern California.”
“Not bad for a hospital, right?” He finally takes a big bite of his sandwich, and I’m relieved to see him eat. We finish our meal in what feels like a weird silence because I don’t know what else to say. I’m sure his mind is on his mom while mine always seems to return to becoming one these days. The thought consumes me lately. Even now, I find myself staring ahead for I don’t even know how long, daydreaming about what it’ll be like.
I almost startle when Toby checks his phone and puts his napkin on his orange tray.
“Where’d you go just now?” He tilts his head and looks at me, into me. Reaching across the table, he puts his large hand over mine. It’s incredibly unexpected, but…I oddly like the comfort it brings me.
“Just going over things in my head, I guess.” I don’t want to weigh him down with my worries about taking care of the nugget and running The SeaSong. About disappointing my parents. About how the urge to abandon my café, my dream, has become stronger. Suddenly, I don’t want to be in this hospital. It feels stifling, and I want to take off my shoes to feel the ground under my feet.
“Whatever it is, it will work out like it’s supposed to.” He says with an air of confident nonchalance, but it’s the little squeeze he gives before releasing my hand that makes me tingle inside. Something that’s never happened. Ever. His reassurance and confidence in me makes warmth flood my chest and I feel less stifled.
“I really should get back to my mom.” The legs of his chair scrape against the linoleum floor as he stands. “Thank you again for staying, Harmony.”
And with that, he walks away, the edges of his slacks wet. Perhaps from the surf or possibly the downpour we were caught in. Maybe both.
But more important than his damp jeans is the fact that he called me Harmony. According to Marie, he refers to me as Coffee Girl to his staff. Girl. Not woman, he sees me as a girl. Another sigh escapes me. Maybe Toby isn’t as much of an ass as he seems. Maybe he’s just trying to live his life like I’m trying to live mine, outside the shadows of family.
It seems like a week ago Toby gave me a ride to Three Jim, but it was only a few hours. It’s been a really long day. It doesn’t help that I stayed up late last night talking to Gibson about Muted Anarchy and our extended family and then woke up early.
As I make it back to the waiting area, I don’t miss how hard the staff works taking care of Toby’s mom and all the other patients.
The idea hits me that I should bring them a tray of goodies and gift cards for The SeaSong tomorrow. They do God’s work, so it’s the least I can do to thank them.
I return to my favorite chair and set my chair picnic back up before plugging my phone back in and making a note about a hospital donation in my tasks app.
Then I prepare for a long night ahead. Because Toby might need a friend when he decides to go home, and I’ve decided that friend will be me.