by E. J. Noyes
Adam turned around. “Bri, can you grab a Penthrox inhaler please?”
Cate kissed my temple, her lips staying close to my skin. “I promise, I’ll keep you safe.”
His partner, a sweet-faced young brunette passed him a box, and I waited as Adam prepared the inhaler for me. It looked like snapping a kid’s toy together. He held a green tube out to me. “Here we go. Can you hold onto it?”
I looked down at my left hand, the fingers curled forward and useless from the break. My right was glued around the left’s wrist. “Uh, no. But you can wedge it in my armpit or something.”
After a short back and forth, he agreed to let Cate hold it for me, because I couldn’t make myself let go of my wrist again. “Sorry to be difficult,” I mumbled.
Adam lifted a hand as though to wave my apology away. “It’s fine. Now this usually kicks in pretty quickly, so start off with five or six nice steady breaths for me. We can top it up as needed, okay?”
“Mhmm.” A strange syrupy taste landed on my tongue and made its way down my lungs. I drew away. “Ugh. Tastes like crap.” After another five deep breaths of the fruity, cloying vapor, I felt no different except for a disgusting taste in my mouth.
Cate massaged my shoulder. “How’s that?”
“Same.”
Brianna made a few notes on a small notepad, and we all waited silently like new acquaintances stuck together at a party. Adam spoke first after a minute or so. “How’s your pain level now, Aspen?”
“No better.”
“Okay, take another two or three for me.”
I drew in another two slow breaths, and in the space between the second and the next, I felt myself coming untethered. Great. Definitely not high, but so not low. I unclamped my lips and pulled my mouth away from the inhaler. On the plus side, the pain was suddenly hardly noticeable. Winning. I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
“How’s that now?” Cate asked quietly, slipping around in front of me.
“Mmm.” I bent my head and coughed into my bicep. “Cate?”
“Yes?”
I jerked my chin. “I found it you know. Up there.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Found what?”
“It,” I told her, as if it was obvious. To me, it was.
“What’s it, exactly?” Cate exchanged a look with the paramedics.
“It is it.” I wet my lips with my tongue. “Had to leave my glove and goggles and even my poles as an offering, but the mountain accepted ’em and gave me back my mojo.” I giggled. “That’s how it works, man. The snow wanted to take you and Gem away from me but I said no, no, no, no.”
Adam’s fingers closed on my good wrist. “Aspen, can you look at me again please?”
I raised my eyes, fighting to throw off the dullness that kept trying to smother my thoughts. “You checked me before. It’s this stuff,” I complained. “Think I need to sit before I fall over.” A penlight flashed in my eyes. Bright. Bastards.
“You’re already sitting down, honey,” Cate said. Even around the fog I caught the tone. Upset. Worried.
“Oh.”
“Are you sure you’re not allergic to any drugs?” Cate asked.
“I’m not. Not allergic, not not sure.” I tried to get my legs underneath myself so I could stand.
Cate grabbed me around the waist and gently pressed me back down. “Careful.”
“I am careful. Cate, I was doing soooo well. I haven’t breaked anything in ages. So stupid.”
Adam smiled, tucking the penlight in his pocket. “I think it’s kicked in. All right, let’s get you splinted.”
It didn’t take long to fit me with an inflatable splint and dress the cut on my chin. It probably would have taken less time if I’d been able to sit still instead of demonstrating the way I’d skied down in front of the avalanche, complete with whooshing noises.
Because I said an emphatic no to being moved to the ambulance on a stretcher, Cate and the paramedics had to hold me while I zigzagged to the ambulance and scrabbled up into the back. I was never a good patient. Hunched over inside the van, I looked for a place to sit. Brianna pointed. “Can you get onto that stretcher?” she asked, a hand closed around my bicep to help me balance.
“Yeah.” I climbed up and lay down, my head spinning. Outside the vehicle, I could hear Cate and Adam talking, presumably about me.
Cate’s whisper brushed over my ear. “Aspen?”
I startled but didn’t open my eyes. “Mmm?”
Fingers smoothed my eyebrows and ran over my cheeks. “No sleeping.”
“I’m not. Just resting my eyeses,” I muttered.
Hands running through my hair, soft fingers over my eyebrows. “Come on, eyes open.”
I forced them apart. “They gave me breathe-in stuff, Cate. You ask too much.”
“How’s your pain?” Her anxiety filled the space.
“’S’gone.”
“Sure? What about your fingers and chin?”
“All okay. Gonna have a cool scaaaar. ’Nuther one I mean.”
Her lips quirked, but she didn’t smile.
I raised my splinted wrist. “What’s your diagnosis, physical therapist extraordinaire?”
“Well, without my X-ray goggles, I’m flying blind but it doesn’t look surgical to me.” The quirk turned to a full smile and everything brightened, easing the heaviness in my chest. She stroked my cheek. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Like a peach.” I fumbled for her hand. “Cate, I need to talk to you.”
“We can talk later, darling. You need to rest and relax.”
“I’m relaxed and I’m serious.” I was only slurring a little. Totally lucid. Promise. “Please, I want to talk to you and Gem.”
“We will, honey. I promise. Later when we get home.” She brushed my hair from my eyes.
Brianna stood and shuffled backward. “We’ll be out of here in just a minute.” Then she leapt lithely out the back, the crunch of her footsteps in the gravelly slush marking her path to the front of the ambulance.
I turned my focus back to Cate. “I don’t wanna wait.”
“It won’t be long, I promise. I’m going to meet you at the hospital.”
“What about Stacey and Gem? Too many cars. Not enough drivers. Stace shouldn’t drive so far home when she’s had a scare.”
“I know. It’s fine, sweetheart. I spoke to her dad and her parents are on their way now to collect her and her car. Gem will go back with them so she doesn’t have to wait hours at the hospital for us to be done. We’ll get your car another time.”
“Oh. You’re so clever. Have I ever told you how clever you are and how much I love you? It’s a lot.”
“Mhmm. Once or twice.” Cate’s gaze moved to my chest, the place I’d unconsciously rested my uninjured hand where Mom’s rings lay under my shirt. When I realized what I’d done, what I’d implied, I pulled my hand away. But Cate grasped it, curling the fingers against her palm before she brought our joined hands back to my chest. “Your inside thoughts are showing on the outside again, darling.” Her voice was hoarse, her mouth quivering as though she was about to smile again. Or cry.
I bit my lower lip. “You mind?”
She didn’t hesitate. “No, I don’t mind.” Cate stretched up, our hands still joined, to whisper in my ear. “In fact, I like it.”
“Good because I have it,” I declared, as clearly as I could.
“What’s that?”
Apparently not clear enough. I raised my chin and tried again. “I. Have. It.” There was so much more in my head but nothing was coming out right. How hard was it to ask someone if they might want to get married one day?
Cate tilted her head and brought her hands up to my temples. “Look at me.”
“Already told you all. Twice. I don’t have a concussion.” Digging my heels in, I pushed myself up. Very slowly, I tried one last time and kind of succeeded. “Cate. I have a ring. For you. I know it’s not been long for us, but I want this. Eve
n if it’s just a promise you’ll think about it for later.”
Her eyes widened when she took in what I was trying, very inarticulately, to say. She responded with an equal lack of articulation. “Oh.”
Okay, so it wasn’t down on one knee or some other equally grand gesture. Maybe it wasn’t even a real marriage proposal. But I couldn’t wait a moment longer. Lying in the back of an ambulance with a broken wrist, doped up and making very little sense, I asked her, “Will—”
Adam climbed into the back of the ambulance. “You guys good to go?”
I groaned. Dammit, paramedic man, can’t you see I’m sort of kind of proposing here? I think.
“Yes,” Cate answered.
I cleared my throat. “Cate, was that a yes for me, or a yes for him?” Technically, I didn’t finish the question, but the meaning was obvious. It had to be obvious.
She smiled, the same smile she’d given me the day we met. Expectant. Knowing. My stomach fluttered. Leaning forward, she caressed my face. “I told you, we’ll talk later.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cate may as well have been working for all the butting in she did at the hospital. The bruising over my ribs was just that—nothing broken, nothing cracked. The frostnip on my hand wasn’t serious, and it only took a couple of stitches to close the cut on my chin.
My wrist was apparently a distal radial break that needed no surgery, and the doctor agreed to let me go home once I’d been casted and fitted with an immobilizer. I chose a blue cast for the color of Cate’s eyes, a fact I reminded her of a couple of times as we meandered out to the car.
As Cate had promised, we were prescription drug-free, and had instructions for dealing with my pain using OTC medications. She’d done exactly as she’d said she would, calmly discussing options with the doctor because I was so tired and foggy I couldn’t quite articulate what I meant. My champion.
Cate leaned over to buckle me into the passenger seat. She ran her fingers over the fabric of the sling. “You comfortable?”
“Mhmm.” As comfortable as I’d get. A distracting ache lingered in my wrist and ribs, I was bone-weary but other than that, I was alive. Another point for the pros column. I leaned against the window, staring at streetlights passing by until I drifted off to dream of baskets filled with apples that kept tumbling out of my hands when I tried to pick them up.
Cate shook me awake. “Aspen. Honey, we’re home.”
Home. Her home. Our home? “Time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
The car door behind me opened and closed. Gemma was talking but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. We’d stopped and picked her up and I’d slept the whole time. Damn. Gem walked past us and opened the front door as Cate held the passenger door open, hand out to me. “Can you stand up?”
“Yeah I can walk I lost my stuff, Cate.” The words kept jumbling together, different thoughts all in one mouthful.
“I know, baby. We’ll buy new ones.”
“My skis?”
“Yes they’re here, and Gem has your jacket.” She smiled, clearly aware I was about to ask about my favorite jacket.
“Did you see them? Are they okay?”
“Your skis?” She pushed the car door closed with her foot.
“No.” I groaned with frustration. “Stacey and her parents.”
“Yes, they’re fine. Worried about you.”
Cate held me around the waist while I dragged myself up the stairs, still talking nonsense. “Need to apologize. Shouldn’t have taken her somewhere new. Shoulda checked conditions better. They’d blasted the wall and I should have known it might have ’lanched up there.”
“You can’t have known, Aspen. Don’t worry.”
“Am. Can’t help it.” I fumbled for the chain that was ever-present around my neck. “Where’s Mom’s rings?” I asked, panicked. I needed to give one of them to her.
“Shh, honey. They’re in the bag from the hospital, remember?”
“Can I shower?”
She leaned over to lock the front door, still holding onto me. “I think you should go to sleep.”
“Please. I’ve got grit and crap everywhere. I feel awful.”
She gave in and I stood in the enclosed glass shower with my eyes closed, leaning against the wall. With my cast held out of the door Cate washed me quickly, lathered shampoo through my hair and rinsed me off. She helped me dry and dress myself, then guided me to the bed. I drew the line at her helping me lift my legs up and under the covers. “I’m sore, not crippled.” I settled back against the pillows, staring drowsily at her. “Cate?”
“Yes?”
“I meant what I said.”
“You said a lot of things, sweetheart.” She pushed my hair back, tracing the line of my eyebrows and along my jaw. I smiled. Warm lips pressed against my forehead. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. Are you in pain?” She sat next to me, on top of the covers.
“Not so bad. Cate, please. I won’t sleep ’til you answer me.” Idle threats, my eyes were already closed. “Come to bed,” I mumbled.
“In a minute. I’ll be with you when you fall asleep.” Her hands were in my hair, fingers lightly raking my scalp. Unfair. She knew that’d make me—
My eyes came open with the sudden awareness of movement in the room. The bedroom door was partially closed, muted light filtering in from the hall. Cate sat on the edge of the bed, talking softly to someone. I rolled over and let out a soft groan. Now everything hurt. “Cate?” I rasped.
“Yeah? Are you okay? Are you in pain?”
“Mmm, little bit. What’s happening?” I lifted myself up, making out the silhouette of an extra person at the end of the bed.
Something brushed my arm. “Nothing, hon. Go back to sleep.” I felt her get up from the bed. “Gemma’s not feeling well.”
I forced my eyes fully open. “Gem? You okay?”
Gemma was crying softly. “Not really.”
“Feeling sick, hey. What’d you have for dinner?” The words rolled around in my mouth like marbles.
“Pasta.”
“Been riding any roller coasters?”
“No.” Sniffle.
“You and Stacey didn’t go out partying while I was at the hospital?”
She laughed quietly through her tears. “No.”
“’Kay then. Why don’t you come here?” I pushed back the covers to sit up and held out my hand to her. Gem climbed over the end of the bed, settling in the middle. It was going to be a tight squeeze with three of us. Without prompting, she snuggled against me, knees bent up and resting on my lap, head tucked against my shoulder. Gem cried against my shirt and in the darkness, I heard the muffled sound of Cate trying to stifle her own tears.
I swallowed hard, desperate not to join them. My throat burned with the effort as I held Gem, rocking her softly. When I trusted myself to speak, I let some tension out on a long exhalation. “Cate? Come back to bed, babe.”
Cate settled behind her daughter, shifting to get comfortable. She reached over, arm resting on Gem’s hip to take my hand. With my cast on, I could only hook her fingers, but this small contact was enough.
I stroked Gemma’s hair with my free right hand. “Now, it’s possible you contracted some incurable disease, but do you think this upset stomach might be because you’re upset?”
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“You know we’re okay, right?”
“Mhmm.” She trembled with her staggered, sobbing breathing.
“I promise. We’re all okay. I’m not leaving.” I looked up at Cate. That soft light from the hall caught her brimming tears and I knew it was time. Stroking Gemma’s hair, I whispered something in her ear, still looking at Cate. Gem nodded, squeezed me then slid wordlessly out of my arms, off the bed, and left the room.
“What’s that about?” Cate asked tremulously.
“She’s running an errand for me.” I shuffled closer to Cate, drawing her to me as best I could. Her arms stole around my w
aist, she clutched my tee like she was frightened I’d evaporate. My hand came up to stroke the back of her neck.
Cate broke, her whole body shuddering against mine. “I was so scared,” she sobbed. “I can’t live without you, I can’t.”
“I know, me too,” I whispered around my own silent tears, rocking her gently.
I felt rather than saw Gemma come back. She turned on the lamp beside the bed and the startling brightness seared into the back of my skull. I blinked. “Did you find it, sweetie?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was clearer, even a little excited.
Sniffing, Cate pulled back, wiping her eyes. “What’s going on?” Even tearstained and tense, she was so beautiful. After laying out all her grief and fears to me, opening herself and letting me in, I’d never been more in love with her than I was in that moment.
Gem came to the end of the bed and held out what she’d retrieved for me. I gestured. “You undo the chain, Gem. I can’t manage with my hand.”
Gemma’s eyes were so wide they were almost comical. Carefully, she opened the clasp and let the rings drop into my palm. I fumbled, trying to grasp the thin band of my mom’s engagement ring, and said softly to Cate, “I told you I had a ring. I’ve always had it but I’ve never had anyone I wanted to give it to as much as I do you.”
Cate stared down at the object in my hand, then up to my face. Her eyes flicked to her daughter, back to me, to the ring. “I thought you were concussed.”
My smile came slowly. “No. I told you over and over I wasn’t.”
“Your mother’s ring?” Cate’s voice was choked.
“Yes.” It was nothing like I’d imagined, but fifteen hours after I was caught in an avalanche, I sat in bed with a cast on my wrist and her daughter standing next to us, and I tried again. “Cate, will you wear this? Even if it’s just a promise of later, or whatever, I want you to know how much I love you and Gemma.”
There was no hesitation when she answered, “Yes. But I don’t want it later. I want it now.”
When we woke up, only a few hours after Cate told me she wanted to join her life legally with mine, we asked Gemma how she would feel, if sometime in the future, I adopted her. She cried. I cried. Cate cried. The three of us hung around the house on my enforced days off and talked about what it would mean. We spoke of family and weddings and more vacations. We spoke about love and trust and commitment. Every time I caught sight of the engagement ring on Cate’s finger, my heart swelled with love and pride, pushing everything else aside until there was no room for doubt or worry.
