Chapter 8
“Riley, I love you.”
“Conversations like this never end well,” I warn Caroline. “Better to just leave it.”
My sister plops on the bed of her guest room I’ve occupied in the week since I abandoned the futon at work a few days ago.
Caroline picks up one of my t-shirts, refolding it. “Riley, I’ve left it for long enough. I’m happy you came here. You’re welcome here—”
“But?”
“But…alright, look, I probably don’t have the best thing to say—”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, best not to say anything at all.”
“Riley, you can’t live like this. You’re hardly eating. You barely leave this room—”
“I took a walk to the deli yesterday to get a sandwich,” I inform her. I might’ve thrown most of the sandwich away, but I did something. “And I’m about to go to work.”
What I mean by that is, I’m about to go sit in my office for the twenty minutes I can actually tolerate being there, staring at a full inbox of things I’m behind on and not understand one word. And that’s not because I’m dyslexic. That’s because nothing makes any sense without Nate around. Not even invoices.
“Have you talked to Harper?”
I have a feeling that if Harper let Caroline know about the other night, she would’ve opened the conversation with that. “Have you talked to Harper? After all, she’s your friend, not mine.”
I like to think that maybe the Harper from the other night, the one who tried to force the anger louder than the sadness weeping from her voice, is the new norm. I fucking wish it. Because I’d rather her only be angry with me— hate me—than be heartbroken because of me.
“I have.”
“How is she?”
“I don’t really know how to answer that,” Caroline says and I hang my head.
I guess words can be hard for everyone sometimes, even for those who don’t always struggle with them.
“She told me Lucas has been asking about you.”
I don’t fight or grimace when the air is looted from my chest. This is my punishment, my penance. But god, the other night destroyed me in a way I didn’t know was possible. Because maybe the only thing worse than hearing Nate say my name with a cracking, sad voice, was the way Lucas said it with excitement and sheer happiness. Again.
“Riley—”
“Don’t,” I warn her. “Don’t tell me to go over there.”
“Maybe you should see if you can just go over there and see him. I’ll go with you. I’ll stay with Harper and you can take him out—”
“Caroline—”
“Riley, he’s a kid and his dad died.”
I throw down the clothes I was pretending to fold. “I’m aware. I was there ,” I growl .
Caroline opens her mouth to answer but her phone shrills from the kitchen. She raises her head to the ceiling and groans.
“I thought I was done with calls today,” she says before disappearing from the room.
I shake my head, trying to rid my thoughts of Lucas, of Harper when I hear Caroline say her name.
“Harper, slow down.”
I turn my head toward the door.
“The hospital?”
I fly into the kitchen, finding Caroline grabbing her bag from the counter.
“Okay. Where is it exactly?”
I reach out grabbing her shoulder. “What happened?”
Caroline turns to face me but continues talking into the phone. “I’ll call you when I have it. I’m leaving now.” She brings the phone down from her ear. “I need your keys to the house.”
“What happened?” I repeat.
“I don’t know, she says she’s fine. The doctor was coming in so she had to hang up. I have to get Harper’s new insurance cards, she doesn’t have them on her.”
I rush into my room, grabbing my keys from the counter and fly out the door of the condo before Caroline even has a chance to tell me to wait for her.
The tires screech when I stop the car, sliding the gear shift into Park. “Go get the cards. Let me see what’s going on.”
I don’t even look back at my sister. All my focus is racing through the Emergency Room doors and finding Harper. I’m a hair away from setting off the censors of the doors when a bark makes me freeze.
To my left a man leans against the building, trying to get a reign on Tides who tugs at the leash to get to me .
“Heel,” I command. Tides sits but continues to whimper, his body bouncing. “Who are you? Why do you have him?”
It’s a cool day but the guy holding the leash is covered in sweat. He adjusts his glasses and looks relieved now that Tides has calmed down. “I…I’m Ben. I was at the park. Are you Harper’s husband?”
I’m about to quickly tell this guy no.
“Are you Lucas's dad?”
His question nails me in my chest. But I don’t have time to explain how the heart inside beats for a kid who isn’t mine.
“Stay,” I tell Tides before addressing the man again, “I’ll have someone pick him up.” Caroline is coming back with the insurance cards, but I know if I ask Finn to come he’ll get here faster. I pull out my phone and fire off a voice note before I enter the hospital.
A woman at the front desk raises her head, focusing on my sling. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here for Harper Jones.”
She tilts her head. “You’re family?”
“Yes.” I cock my tongue against my cheek. I’m not risking having to wait and find out anything. "Her husband.”
The receptionist returns her attention to the computer and I look around, trying to listen above the coughing patients and caring staff for Harper’s voice.
“Bay eight. Through there.” She points.
I march through the double doors, trying not to slip on the slick, linoleum tile as I hurry past all the partitioned curtains until I find number eight. Without thinking, I pull open the curtain.
“Excuse me.”
Harper sits on the bed with a hospital gown loosely hanging off her shoulders. I cringe when I follow the arm the nurse tends to, the one with an open wound.
“What happened?”
“Sir? ”
“Riley—”
“And you are?” The nurse asks.
“Her husband.”
Harper gasps “Riley!”
I take a step forward. “What happened?”
The nurse looks between both of us, but then focuses on Harper. “Ma’am, if—"
“It’s okay,” Harper says. At first, I think she’s talking to the nurse. But really her eyes are on me, and it’s only now I realize how tense and taught my entire body is, and how the sight of the torn flesh and gaping wound makes me sway.
Harper is trying to tell me she’s okay, even though she isn’t. But really, I’m wondering something more. I’m wondering just why it bothers me so much seeing her not okay. My pulse ticks up to an elevated rhythm. I think I’m angry. Right. That must be what this is.
I’m angry she didn’t call me .
And most of all, I’m angry with myself that I made her feel like she couldn’t.
And I can’t blame her for that.
The snap of the latex glove the nurse dresses her hand in brings me out of my own head.
“Is Lucas with Claire?” I ask.
“They took him for an X-Ray.”
Caroline said nothing about Lucas being hurt.
I lean forward, gripping the blanket folded at the end of the bed. “Why?”
“He fell.” Harper hisses when the nurse presses another gauze pad to the bite. "But he’s been gone a long time. Can you go check on him?”
The nurse quickly interjects, “We don’t allow anyone to accompany patients to radiology.”
“He’s eight ,” I snap.
Harper looks over with a pleading gaze until the nurse’s shoulders drop. “I’ll go see what the holdup is. The doctor will stitch you up. You’ll probably need a round of IV antibiotics. We’ll see what he says.”
“T-Thank you.” Harper slowly turns, swinging her legs up on the bed and tugging the paper gown down.
I take the blanket at her feet, draping it over her bare skin. My eyes linger on the wound and I grimace. “What happened?”
She leans forward, bringing the hand of her uninjured arm to her forehead. “It was so fast…I thought for a second…” There’s a small crack to her voice.
I drop down onto a stool beside her. “Lucas alright?”
“Maybe a broken wrist…”
“Tides,” is all she says and then she starts to cry and I have to look away, now focusing on the curtain that keeps moving gently from people passing by on the other side.
“There’s a guy outside with him.”
“That’s Ben.”
My head flings back to Harper. “Who's Ben?”
“I just met him. He drove us here.”
I drop my head to look in my lap, hating how a probably well-meaning stranger’s actions gut me. Because it should’ve been me.
“Riley, Tides…” her voice completely cracks. “He pushed Lucas out of the way, right to the ground. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
When her eyes meet mine, they swirl with tears. The sight makes me squirm uncomfortably. But I’m still confused, looking at the wound. Was she mugged and slashed with a knife?
“Who did this to you?”
Harper’s eyes widen. “Who?”
I cringe as much as Harper does when she removes the gauze pad, the sight of torn flesh too much. I can’t fist both hands, so my right, cast-free hand takes all the punishment and my short fingernails dig into my palm from the force.
“A dog, Riley. I got bit at the dog park.” Harper’s eyes trail from my balled-up hands to my twisted face. “Will you relax? ”
“No.”
Harper sighs. “What are you going to do? Go after an animal?”
“I wouldn’t have mercy on a bumble bee that stung you.”
Harper flinches, as if my words have struck her with surprise. If I’m being honest, they surprise me too. But the shock is followed by streaks of shame. Because what if she got hurt when she was supposed to be under my watch? Nate would come back from the dead and beat my ass.
Harper takes a deep breath. “I got to Lucas, and then that dog lunged again at Tides and—”
“And what? You put yourself between two fighting dogs? You can’t possibly be that stupid, Harper.”
Harper straightens in bed. “Tides saved Lucas.”
“Yeah, well it would be a lot harder for him to save you when a Pit Bull has your arm between his jaws.”
“It wasn’t a Pit Bull,” Harper rebuts, as if that makes a difference.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t care if it was a fucking Poodle. You can’t be that stupid again. What if something happened to you?” My voice raises, on the verge of lecturing. I want to scream at Harper, shake her, even if she’s injured. “Your kid has already lost half of the most important people in his life.”
Instantly, I regret my words because Harper cowers. I’ve kicked her while she’s down, slapped her with a painful reminder she definitely doesn’t need.
“Not quite half.”
Hesitantly, I raise my head, finding Harper staring. I want to look away from her glossy, honey-brown eyes because I don’t know what to say. Guilt, it chokes the words right out of me. I’ve got nothing and I’m doing nothing. I’ve done nothing but turn my back on two people my best friend trusted me to look after. The only thing I’ve done is abandon them.
And here Harper is, still looking at me like she’s grateful I came. But there’s more, and it’s worse. I swear, behind the teary eyes, there’s something else floating there—hope. Hope that I’ll stay.
I clear my throat. “Harper, about the other day—”
“Riley!” Lucas's gasping of my name relieves me, momentarily, of many things—of Harper, of the heartache, the worry, and shame.
The same nurse pushes him in a wheelchair through the curtain. His small left arm is splinted, and he holds a red lollipop with the other. I stand immediately, my instinct is to run my hands from his head to his feet, looking for other bumps and bruises, to soothe the pain I can’t see.
“Hey, kid. Ouch. That hurt?”
I’m looking at Lucas's face, which is splotchy, clearly from crying, but otherwise he seems particularly distracted by the lollipop. “Yeah but you should see the other guy.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “The dog ?”
“No,” Lucas hums before his mouth melts into a cheeky smirk. “Mom.” He points over my shoulder, and I can’t help but look over at Harper and laugh.
“Very funny,” she mumbles, shifting and leaning against the raised bed.
A doctor appears. “No fracture, just a bad sprain.” He ruffles Lucas's hair. “You’re a lucky little guy. We’re going to just redo this splint, and you’ll be good to go with some Advil, ice, and no climbing trees. Mom and Dad—”
“I’m not his dad,” I clarify.
The doctor peers at me.
“That’s Riley,” Lucas clarifies easily, as if everyone in their life has one of me.
The doctor clears his throat. “Well, Mom and Riley , all the ice cream Lucas wants. And maybe no climbing trees.” He gently unwraps Lucas's wrist and I stand back against the wall by the bed while he and the nurse secure it in a sturdier splint.
“And the wannabe lion tamer over here?” I motion at Harper and I can feel the roll of her eyes against my back before I turn. Blood gently oozes from the wound and I reach over to the tray, handing her a fresh piece of gauze.
“A fair amount of stitches and some antibiotics,” the doctor says, washing his hands. “We’ll sew you up and get you started with an IV and a prescription to take home. Can’t mess around with dog bites. We don’t want to risk infection to the bone.”
Harper sighs. “How long will that take?”
“Another hour, hour and a half. And we’ll have to write up a report. We’re required to report animal attacks.”
Lucas's eyes widen. “All animals?”
The doctor nods.
“Snakes and raccoons?”
“Sure,” the doctor entertains him.
“Grizzly bears?”
“Also yes.”
I shake my head. “Lucas, why don’t we give them some space.” I don’t know if the kid needs to see his mother get sewn up.
Immediately, Harper turns her head to me, and that’s when I remember, she hates needles, the way she refused the epidural almost violently when Lucas was born seven years ago.
My legs buckle slightly. The last time the three of us were together in a hospital was when Lucas was born.
“Oh, you guys.” Everyone looks up, finding Caroline. “You barely have one good arm between the three of you.” My sister huffs.
My eyes drop to my cast and swing to Lucas's splint, and then to the hole in Harper’s arm she’s trying to pack with gauze as the nurse and doctor prepare the suture kit. Despite the needle now being visible, she meets my gaze and for the first time in the longest time, I hear Harper laugh.