Fade to Black

by Unknown

  “Are you Rich Spencer?” came the quiet question. He turned his head to meet the deep blue eyes that were an exact match for the scrubs on the pretty, young nurse. Her long, dark curls were swept up in a ponytail. “Rich?” she asked again.

  “Yeah.” He sat up straight. “Um, yes, I’m Rich.”

  She smiled. “I don’t know who you know, but somebody with some clout made some calls on your behalf.” She opened the door further to reveal a roll-away bed. “Are you tired, Mr. Spencer?”

  His feet met the floor with a thud and were practically running over to help her with the awkward contraption.

  Once they had it all situated just a few feet from Kate’s bed—a problem easily fixed as soon as the nurse left the room—Rich thanked her and asked the same question he’d asked every new person to walk through the door. “So when can she go home?”

  Nurse Nice smiled, her eyes focused only on the chart she flipped through. Rich wondered if she had even heard his question until she spoke. “Hmm…” She tapped her lip with her finger. “It looks like she might get discharged tomorrow, as long as she comes off the tranquilizers okay.”

  His lungs filled with the first relaxed breath in hours.

  She looked up and offered a feigned gasp of surprise. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were listening.” A smile tugged at the corners of her red lips as her eyes twinkled mischievously. She winked over her shoulder. “Good night.”

  **

  Morning light poured into the room, and Rich woke to the gorgeous eyes of the woman he loved staring at him. He scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “You’re still here,” she whispered in disbelief.

  “Of course.” He kissed her forehead. “Only you have the power to keep me away. I am here by your side forever.”

  The door opened again and the man he knew as Kate’s doctor walked in. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay. A little tired. Can I go…?” She paused.

  “I’ll discharge you as soon as I make sure everything’s okay.” He did a quick once over. “Looks good. I’ll send the nurse in with the paperwork and have her get this out of your hand.” He patted the IV softly.

  Kate waited until the doctor was gone before she looked at Rich through tear-filled eyes. “Rich, is Jesse…” She didn’t finish the question.

  He sat down next to her on the bed and pulled her into his arms. She relaxed and her cheek rested against his chest. Her hand wrapped tightly around in his shirt. Tears started to fall, dampening the cotton. “Yes,” he answered her, “Jesse is gone. I am so sorry.”

  The tiny rivulets ran down her cheeks with a greater intensity as her shoulders shook with a sob. His hands moved over her back, desperately trying to ease her pain.

  Nurse Nice cleared her throat in the doorway. “I just need a few minutes.”

  Kate pulled against his embrace and wiped at her wet face.

  The nurse made quick work of the IV, and had Kate sign away her firstborn before gathering the papers. “Do you have a ride home?”

  “Yes,” Rich answered for her, “I’ll make sure she’s taken care of from here.” When Kate and Rich were alone, the tears started again. “What’s wrong, love?” It was a stupid, insensitive question, but he hoped she’d just answer it without too much analysis.

  “I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have anything to wear, except this.” She tugged at the blasé cotton covering her. “With the exception of a few pictures, there is nothing I want from the place I used to call home.”

  “I’ll take care of it—of you. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

  She sniffed. “I just need to go home.”

  Rich didn’t understand her contradiction. “I thought…”

  “To Flagstaff, Rich. I need to take Jesse, and go home.”

  “I’ll call the airlines and make the arrangements. We’ll get Olivia to bring you some things to wear, and then we can go…”

  “No!” she shouted. “You can’t. Jesse didn’t know that I betrayed his trust, and I won’t dishonor his memory by showing up at his funeral with my lover.” She may as well have reached out and slapped him, the sting of that statement was the same. “I have to do this on my own.”

  “Whatever you want, love. If it’s okay, I’ll call and make arrangements with Olivia for you to stay with her and Jordan.”

  She shook her head and met his eyes through her tears. “I think I’ll stay with our friends, Josh and Sophia. They’ll want to come home to the funeral.”

  Our friends? With that one statement, she successfully shut Rich out of her life. He prayed that she wouldn’t do it forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It’d been four days since Rich had watched, like some kind of pathetic spy lurking in the shadows, as Mr. and Mrs. Callahan escorted his broken-hearted Kate through the airport terminal. Four gut-wrenching days since Kate had told him, in no uncertain terms, to let her do this alone. Four excruciating days since he’d been able to look in Kate’s beautiful eyes and tell her how much he loved her.

  Worry plagued him. Kate was strong, but she shouldn’t have to do this on her own. He shook his head to bring his thoughts to the here and now. He would be there for her. Always.

  Jordan drove the rental car into the parking lot of the little white church in Flagstaff, Arizona. The sky was overcast, and the sidewalk was still wet from an earlier rain. A black hearse—a painful reminder—was waiting to take Jesse the last few miles that his body would ever travel.

  Rich’s eyes burned under the dark Oakley’s that wouldn’t leave his face—unless Kate requested that specific thing.

  “Rich,” Olivia’s somber voice asked, “you ready?”

  Am I ready? For what, to strut in there, disrupt their mourning, and piss Kate off for not honoring her request? To break his own heart all over again as he watched the woman he loves devastated over the death of another man? “Ready or not, as they say,” he mumbled, jerking the handle on the Honda Accord.

  The air was so damp that it was even more difficult to breathe. A gust of ice cold air stung his cheeks and glued his pants against his legs. Rich stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his black wool overcoat, and Olivia slipped her arm through his.

  “We’re here as much for you as we are for her, Rich. This has to be…”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Olivia.”

  “Okay.” She slipped away from Rich and fell into step with Jordan, who was walking just behind him to the left.

  The heavy wooden doors were closed, keeping out the rain, cold—and unwanted guests. If not for the fact that Kate was on the other side, Rich would have turned around and waited in the car. Jordan reached around him, tugged the door open, and walked past him. The heat from the quaint little chapel flowed over him, causing his body to break out in a sweat underneath his clothes. It wasn’t that he was hot, though; it was seeing Kate.

  She was standing with a group of people near the front, and behind her was the closed casket with a large spray of red roses on top. Jesse.

  One of the men turned around and walked slowly down the aisle toward Rich and his friends. Kate didn’t even turn around. The tissue in her right hand was balled up and periodically moved up to wipe at her face.

  “I’m sorry, but the service doesn’t start for two hours.”

  “Oh, we know, we’re just a little early. I’m Jordan Greene from KHB and was asked by our News Director, Dale Morris, to come with my colleagues here to show our support for Kate at this horribly difficult time.”

  The older gentleman offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ken Callahan, Kate’s father.”

  A huge knot formed out of nowhere in Rich’s throat, making it even harder to breathe. The man in front of him was the same one he would ask for Kate’s hand in marriage someday, and Rich wouldn’t wait nearly as long as Jesse had.

  Time was a precious thing, especially when it involved Kate.

  Jordan
continued the introductions, “This is my wife, Olivia. And this is Rich Spencer. He’s worked quite a bit with Kate. We all care very much about your daughter, Mr. Callahan.”

  Ken’s hand was strong and callused as he gripped Rich’s, shaking it. “It would seem so, if you’d travel this far just to support her.” He looked into Rich’s eyes, trying to study them behind the dark glasses.

  “She means a great deal to me,” Rich answered.

  Ken offered Rich a strained smile, his eyes puffy from the tears that he had shed for the man who might have been his son-in-law. “Excuse me, and I’ll let Kate know you’re here.” The dress shoes he wore shuffled softly across the carpeted aisle. He took Kate by the arm and leaned down to speak into her ear.

  Kate’s body shifted then turned completely to face them. Rich’s heart thundered in his chest and he held onto the oxygen in his lungs, afraid that he might never take another breath if her reaction wasn’t a good one. She stood silently, just staring at them for the longest moment of his life.

  “Kate.” Her name was only a breath on his lips.

  A sob shook her entire body and Rich worried that her knees could hold her in such a fragile state. Instead, she straightened her spine, wiped her nose with a tissue, and walked toward them. Three steps into the journey, she broke into a sprint. Tears streamed down her cheeks and all his muscles tensed in preparation of her small body crashing into his.

  It wasn’t Rich she ran to, though. “Oh, Olivia.” Kate wrapped her arms around their tiny friend and held on for dear life. Her tears disappeared into Olivia’s black hair. She moved to Jordan and the scene replayed itself, except Jordan’s tie mopped up the salty water from her cheeks.

  When she finally slipped into his arms, Kate let her arms slide around his waist and pressed her face to his chest. “Thank you for coming, Rich.” She squeezed and he returned her snug embrace, unwilling to release her.

  “You’re not mad?” Rich asked into her hair, wanting so badly to make all of her pain go away.

  Her head moved back and forth against his white shirt. “I should be, but no, I’m not. Please keep your distance, though, no one can…”

  “Kate?” a woman’s voice asked, and Kate practically hit the ceiling, she jumped so high. “Who are your friends?”

  “Mom, this is Jordan Green, KHB’s Assignment Editor.” She attempted a soggy smile. “His wife, and producer extraordinaire, Olivia Greene, and my favorite photographer—” She squeezed his hand quickly before dropping it. “—Rich Spencer. Everybody, this is my mom, Anna.”

  Anna was an older version of Kate. It was easy to see whose genes were dominant in the makeup of their daughter. Anna smiled, and they all voiced polite hellos. Kate stepped to stand at her mother’s side. Anna nodded then turned to speak with the minister, following him toward the casket.

  Kate wiped underneath her eyes. “Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?”

  Olivia reached out to Kate. “Honey, we’re here for you, not the other way around. We’ll go find somewhere to get a bite and be back in time for the services.” She gave Kate another hug then said quietly, “Do you need anything?”

  Tear-filled eyes searched his face, the answer clear as day. Kate needed Rich, wanted him, but didn’t want to disrespect Jesse’s memory with the presence of her lover. Kate’s words echoed through his mind. His heart skipped a beat with the painful revelation that would forever haunt him. She finally tore her eyes from his and twisted the tissue in her hands. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need anything.”

  Liar. Rich wanted to scold her, wanted to force her to ask him to stay, but guilt seeped back into the picture. This was ultimately his fault. Rich couldn’t pawn that off on anyone else. It was the fact that he had fallen in love with Kate that brought this whole horrible scenario to fruition.

  Olivia took Rich’s hand in hers, squeezing it. “Well, then, we’ll be back in a little bit.”

  “Thanks for coming, you guys. It really means a lot to me—and Jesse.”

  The mention of his name on her lips caused a flame of jealousy to flicker through Rich’s veins. He swallowed hard, trying to extinguish the sensation. It was ridiculous to harbor feelings like that for the deceased, especially when it was his fault Jesse was about to be put six feet under for eternity.

  A gentle tugging on Rich’s hand made him stop and look at Olivia. Her lips were pulled into a tight smile. “Let’s go, Rich.”

  “I think I’ll just stay here for Kate.”

  “No, I think you should come with us. You need to eat, just like we do.” Olivia had read the expression on Kate’s face, the deer-in-the-headlights-with-an-oncoming-semi kind of look, when he mentioned that he wanted to stay.

  Dammit, this situation was impossible. Kate needed him. She needed him, not a church full of sympathy-givers. It was his comforting embrace she wanted, his touch that would ease her pain…but not her guilt.

  How could she even stand to look at him after what he’d done? Hell, Rich couldn’t stand to be alone with his thoughts. Was she having the same ones? Did she hate him, resent him? Could she ever forgive him? He wasn’t sure that he could ever forgive himself.

  In all honesty, Rich wasn’t sure how he’d gotten from Kate’s side at the church to the little diner where he was now seated across from Olivia and Jordan. The two of them were talking softly amongst themselves, probably avoiding his downer attitude. Rich was depressed—even for someone attending a funeral.

  The food on the plate in front of him had been moved around so much that it no longer resembled the chicken-fried steak they’d brought him. It tasted like cardboard, and he was pretty sure that had little to do with the chef and more to do with that his tongue that felt like sandpaper.

  Every time his thoughts drifted back to Kate, standing next to the casket, his eyes burned. At one point, he had to excuse himself to go outside, stand in the drizzling rain, and regroup. Kate’s pain was very much his own. Her guilt, his guilt. And her wanting him at an arm’s length tore his heart out. If she continued to push him away, his heart would surely break in two.

  What if she didn’t want him anymore? Had this changed her feelings for him? The list of questions went on, thousands of them it seemed, all of which needed answers. Today.

  Jordan’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. “You ready, man?” Rich jerked around, his hand fumbled in his pocket for his wallet. Jordan smiled. “I got it.” He chuckled softly. “Actually, Dale got it.”

  “You’re sure?” Rich mumbled, rearranging his coat.

  “Yep, Dale said to treat it like a business trip. You okay?”

  “Me? Yeah, I’m fine,” Rich lied. “Where’s Olivia?”

  “She’s in the ladies room. She said to just wait in the car.” He continued rambling about women having to check out every restroom they ever come in contact with, but Rich wasn’t really listening.

  The wheels in his mind raced, trying to come up with the how—and when—to ask his questions of Kate. If she needed him to, Rich would gladly take up residence at the Motel 6 in this sleepy little town. But then that had the potential of bringing Shea here. No one knew where she was. Rich’s guess was that she wouldn’t stop until she had killed him—or Kate. He couldn’t let either happen. Kate’s heart couldn’t handle losing another man she loved, and Rich couldn’t handle losing her.

  There were far more cars in the parking lot as they pulled in this time. Jordan found a space and they walked in together, taking the pew in the very back. Jordan took the aisle—probably to block Rich in so he couldn’t make a fool of himself—Olivia took the middle. Rich sat next to an older Hispanic woman and, what he guessed were, her children.

  As the last few people filed in to stand in the back, the minister stood at the pulpit. Rich didn’t really pay attention to the eulogies, the guilt-building speeches about what a great man Jesse was, how this was a tragedy that never should have happened.

  His stomach twisted into knots. Bile made its way up the back of his
throat. If his guilt was eating him alive, Rich could only imagine what it was doing to the love of his life. He watched her closely as her shoulders moved gently with her emotions.

  “…And as they say, the good die young,” Kate’s father said. “They didn’t come better than you, son.”

  Son? Ken Callahan viewed Jesse as a son. Would he ever honor Rich with that name? He could only hope—and dream.

  “We’ll miss you. Rest in Peace.”

  The organ began to play, and a group of men stood to make their way to the casket, flanking its sides. They lifted it in unison and the procession began out the back door. Josh was at the corner closest to Rich, and he blatantly avoided looking anywhere near him. Two of the others, however, glared at him with eyes so full of pain—and animosity—his heart clenched.

  These men loved Jesse, that much was easy to see. But how much did they know about his suspicions when it came to Rich and his feelings for Kate? He could guess that they knew more than any of the other mourners in the church.

  Kate was right behind them, a white rose in her hand, followed by her parents. Next, an older version of Jesse in a wheelchair, oxygen tubes running into his nose, was being pushed by a woman who had to have been Jesse’s sister. They were all crying softly and Rich’s heart broke for each one of them. They had lost a son, a brother, a friend, all because of him—and his actions.

  He certainly felt like a selfish bastard.

  Jesse’s death had been horrific, but he was gone. Rich was left to pick up the pieces of Kate’s broken heart, a position he would gladly fill, but wished he didn’t have to.

  The rest of the unknown faces passed quietly, and soon it was their turn to follow the crowd and pay respects at the gravesite. A woman cleared her throat and tapped Rich lightly on the shoulder. Rich smiled at her, mumbled an apology, then closed the gap between him and Olivia. The air outside was damp, but the sun had come out from behind the clouds almost as if it, too, needed to say goodbye to Jesse.

  The short drive to the cemetery was quiet. Jordan and Olivia politely left Rich alone with his thoughts. Three country blocks went by quickly, even at the slow processional pace. Watching from near the end of line, Rich cringed as Kate stepped out of the limo and took her father’s arm for support. Oh, how he wanted to be the one she leaned on.