by Emilia Finn
Now, he won’t ever be able to jump up and run out the door whenever he wants. Of course, he’ll be able to regain most of what he lost; amputees have climbed mountains before, they’ve swum oceans, and run races, but it’ll take a lot of work, and time to heal, time where he’ll have to be patient.
“Andi?” Marc’s hand on my shoulder snaps me back to the yard. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I draw in a long sniffle and prove I can’t be a demure lady, no matter how many etiquette classes my parents signed me up for. “I just really want to get this house done for him. How are the ramps out front doing?”
“Almost all done. We tacked them on, made them look like part of the original porch, but we can pull them down again when you say we can. The guys are finishing up out front, then we’ll start on the back.”
“Okay…” Lifting the pressure washer, I move it back against the wall where I found it and make sure the cords and hoses stay tucked in neat. “Thanks for today, Marc. I appreciate what you guys are doing.”
“It’s okay.” He stops me with a hand on my shoulder before I rush out. “Meg would love to hear from you while you’re in town. If you find yourself in need of some company, I know she’d love to shoot the shit for an hour. She’s home with the baby right now, and the alone time is making her crazy, so a little girl-time oughtta do her good. You and Meg were always good for each other; two pains in the ass in one pod.”
Laughing, I smooth a hand over my shirt and nod. “I’ve got her number. I’ll text her later.”
“Good deal.” He takes a step back, then another. He watches me with wary eyes, but when he can’t stretch it out any longer, he tips an imaginary hat and goes back to the front yard to help Jimmy finish up the ramps.
I stand in the garage a little longer and count a full minute of calm breathing. Pull yourself together. Riley was your hook-up, not your man, and just because your heart went and got involved doesn’t mean he’s obligated to feel the same way.
Pushing my shoulders back and straightening my spine, I head back toward the house, jog up the back stairs, and step inside. The scent of pine cleaner and not cat shit hits me first – so much better than what I was met with a few hours ago. Nacho sleeps in her pouch on the floor while Tina mops around her, and Tink scrubs the guest bathroom clean until every inch glistens.
I pass the now fresh kitty litter, and make a note to grab another for Nacho before the stores close today, then I move down the hall to the room I know belongs to Riley. Memories wash over me when I inch the door open. This room isn’t trashed, it doesn’t smell; the door was closed the last three weeks, and opened only when I came through two hours ago to air everything out.
Riley’s massive bed is made, but I make a plan to pull the sheets up tomorrow, put clean linens on for him to have something fresh to climb into when he’s home. He won’t notice these things when he’s released. Fresh linens and a sparkling toilet won’t even register in his mind, but deep down in his soul, he’ll appreciate them.
I walk through the room toward the master bathroom, trail my fingers over his tall chest of drawers, then study the glistening master bathroom; Tink’s already been here.
Poking my head into Riley’s walk-in closet on a hunch, I finally meet Ninja’s golden eyes and release the worry that had lodged in my chest. I worried she’d run away now that the doors were open. I was scared she’d never come back, which would add another level of heartbreak for Riley when I’d have to tell him I lost his cat, but now she sits on the bottom shelf, hidden at the back behind piles of jeans.
She watches me with fear. She doesn’t know me anymore. She doesn’t know anyone anymore.
Slowly lowering to my knees, I come down to her level and study her for a moment. “Hey, Ninja. You doing okay?” I slide my hand over Riley’s jeans and try not to focus on the feel of his denim beneath my fingers. Grief settles deep in my heart, like Riley died, like we’re here settling his estate, cleaning the house for sale, and preparing to delete him from this world.
He’s alive. He’ll live a long life after this, and yet, it still feels like I’m in the middle of saying goodbye to the man I knew.
The man that’ll come home in a few days won’t be the Riley from before.
“Ninja.” Too late, I realize I should’ve brought treats for her, something other than a lame ‘hey, kitty kitty’ to tempt her out. “Come on, sweet girl. Come out now. What do you want me to do? Do I take you to a vet?” I lean further into the closet, but she pulls away. “Are you hungry?”
In answer, she lets out a quiet meow that verges on a whimper.
“You want something to eat? Come on. Please come out.” I reach in to stroke her ear, but she won’t let me close enough to touch. She shrinks back into the closet, then mewls when she crushes her sore tail between her body and the wall. Pulling back when I catch the sound of Nacho’s tinkling collar in the hall, I sit back on my haunches and pat my knee when she stops. “Nacho?” I pat my leg again. “In here, Nacho.”
Her toes clip, clip, clip on the hardwood floors, then mute when she steps onto carpet and follows my voice. Pausing at the closet doorway, she peeks around the corner to make sure it’s just me and not scary men that might frighten her. Satisfied, she trots in with what I swear is a grin on her face and a wiggle to her step.
Cramming herself between me and the closet, she plops onto her butt and meets Ninja’s eyes as if to ask what the hell’s going on.
“Ah… okay. Nacho, meet Ninja. Ninja, meet Nacho. You have to be nice to each other, or I’ll get mad. I can’t deal with you guys fighting on top of everything else.” Letting out a huff of breath, I blow the hair from my eyes and run a hand over my cheek.
I need a damn shower; I feel like I’ve bathed in cat shit all day. I need lunch; I haven’t eaten since a cheese muffin and coffee at the airport this morning. Then I need to go to dinner with my nephew and pretend like everything is okay so he and Livi don’t take on extra grief.
“What am I gonna do with you tonight, Ninja?” I scratch Nacho’s ear and study the scared cat. “What do I do…?”
3
Riley
A Whole New World
My coworker, my friend, my superior… Oz Franks is my only connection to the woman who makes my heart bleed. Every time he walks into my room – or worse, every time his wife walks into my room – I bite off the nasty vitriol that sits on the tip of my tongue. Lindsi looks just like Andi, and my loss is just too much to bear when I stare into blue Conner eyes.
I don’t speak to my visitors.
I don’t entertain their ‘it’ll be okay’ talks.
I don’t give a flying fuck about anything they have to say, because every time I look down my bed, my blankets droop where there should be a leg.
My fucking leg!
It’s gone, and nothing will ever be okay again.
“How are you doing, Mr. Cruz?” One of my younger nurses steps into my room with a falsely bright smile and snaps the curtains open. She swings by my bedside table and takes the urinal like it’s normal for a thirty-year-old man to piss into a bottle rather than a toilet. With rubber gloves on and her hair tied back, she takes the bottle into the bathroom, empties it so we can all hear the splash, then she rinses it at the sink and brings it back to my bedside. “It’s almost time for you to be sprung, Mr Cruz. That’s exciting, huh? The administrators have organized for a physical therapist to come in and work with you today.”
“I don’t want them.” My voice croaks, rusty from disuse. “I’m fine.”
Not as professional as her sixty-year-old counterparts, the young nurse rolls her eyes while scanning my file. “You’re not fine, Mr. Cruz. You need to learn how to transfer in and out of a chair.” She drops my file on the end of my bed and folds her arms. “We can’t discharge you until you show us you can do it.”
The black sludge of anger slides through my veins; anger at this girl for telling me I can’t do something, anger at Oz for wanting to step up
and help me, anger at Lindsi for looking at me with those fucking eyes full of pity.
“Bring the chair in.” I speak only to the nurse. “And crutches. I don’t want any visitors for the rest of the day. Please have them removed.”
4
Andi
Touchstone
I set my silverware down at eight and pat my bloated belly. Spaghetti sauce stains my plate, and carbs fatten my stomach until I lounge back and groan. Despite my plans to grab lunch several hours ago, this homecooked meal is the first I’ve eaten all day, and it wasn’t until I got here that I realized how shaky I’d become from low blood sugar.
“That was so good, Benny.” Leaning to my left, I rest against his broad shoulder and sigh. “Best meal I’ve had all week.”
He scoffs and throws his arm over my shoulder. “I believe that. You can hardly cook.”
“Lucky I have you to take care of me then, huh?” I glance across the table and smile at Livi sharing her bowl of salad with Nacho. The pig snorts and burrows into Livi’s lap, accepting small pieces of carrot, and holding my niece’s attention the whole time I’ve been here.
“What did you do this afternoon, Andi?” Oz lifts the single beer he’s been nursing since I arrived. Sitting back at the head of the table, with Lindsi on his left, and Livi on his right, he’s the king of the world surrounded by his girls. Everything is falling apart outside this house – with Riley in the hospital, Jess grieving, and his unnecessary worry for Alex – but inside this house, Oz’s life has never been more perfect. It’s actually kind of sad that it’s all fallen down so soon after their wedding; this should be a happy time for them, but work intrudes. “You were gone all day. Kept busy?”
“I was just running errands. Saw a couple girlfriends.” I scratch the back of Ben’s neck and smile when he snuggles in. “Bought some groceries and a litter box for Nacho.”
Oz’s lips twitch as he turns to his little girl and watches her play. “Nacho… I mean, I really shouldn’t be surprised by the shit you do anymore. But a pig? What was going on in your head?”
“She needed a home,” I answer defensively. “She was on death row and only had a few days left until… well…”
He grins. “Bacon?”
“No! She’s too little for that. But still, it wouldn’t have ended well. I was looking for a companion, found her, and fell in love. I don’t get why you’re all hating on her.”
“Not hating.” Smiling, he sits back and lifts his hands. “I mean, I’m not exactly psyched about having farm animals in my house, but we’ve already got Ben, so that’s basically the same thing.”
“Shut up, Pig.” Ben hardly reacts to his step-father’s teasing nowadays. It’s more of a robotic reply, something only practice and familiarity could provide for them. Ben sits back at the table with one ankle resting on his knee and his arm around me like he’s a grown ass man and thinks he’s hot shit, and all the while, he smarts off at a cop and gives zero fucks about respecting the boys in blue.
And I don’t stop him, because I need a hug more than I needed a meal, so I pretend his over protective hugging is a nuisance, and when he’s not paying attention, I snuggle in nice and tight and breathe a sigh of relief.
“I brought your things in from the car when we got home.” Lindsi gestures toward the hall. “Dumped them on the guest bed.”
“Thanks. I’ll rent a car tomorrow, too. I really should have done that today while at the airport. I wasn’t really thinking.”
“Understandable.” Lindsi watches me with sympathetic eyes. “How are you after today? I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about his leg before you went in. I didn’t know how to say it, and before I got a chance, you ran in and figured it out for yourself.”
I was sipping my glass of wine, washing down the excess carbs and considering what Benny might’ve made for dessert, but now I chug until my glass is empty. I’m sick of being asked if I’m okay. I’m sick of the pitying eyes and sympathetic pats like it’s me stuck in a hospital right now with a missing limb. “I can’t believe this has happened, guys. I think I’m legitimately in shock, and I bet he is, too.” I set my wine glass down with a snap. “I’m just so angry, because Riley never expected this, and I know he doesn’t want it. Nobody asked what he wanted, and even if I know it had to happen, even if I know amputation was the only choice, it doesn’t make it easier to swallow. Now, he has to live with a choice he never made, all because he was being someone else’s hero.”
“We were trying to save his life.” Oz sits forward seriously. “We had to make a choice, Andi, and the options we were given sucked. We chose the one that would let him live.”
“I know, and if I was here, I would have come to the same conclusion in the end. But that still doesn’t make it better. He’s so angry! If he was okay with it, if he was willing to embrace it, then it would be fine. But he’s not. He’s furious, and he’s not accepting this without a fight.” I shake my head and sigh. “Missing a leg is better than dead. I know that. You know that. But I’m not sure he knows it yet, and no matter how many of us tell him it’ll be okay, that doesn’t make it easier for him.”
“He has a long road to recovery,” Oz murmurs. “He’s going to need time, but he’ll be up and running again soon. You know he will. If anyone can bounce back, it’s him.”
“He’s not going to accept desk duty.” Our eyes meet. “He won’t be okay with typing reports all day.”
Oz scoffs. “You think I don’t already know that? He already told us he’s out.”
“Out?” My heart races. “Out of what?”
“The force! Told us he quits, wants nothing to do with us. Said he doesn’t want help, doesn’t want medical leave, doesn’t want a damn pension. He quit and told Alex to take a leaping shit off a cliff.”
“What?” I almost knock my wine glass to the floor when I surge forward. “You can’t do that! What about insurance? He can’t leave!”
“I didn’t do shit. He did! You’re not the only person he wants gone outta his life, Andi. He constantly has me and X escorted outta his room. He doesn’t want us, he doesn’t want anybody.”
“Oz! Medical will bankrupt him!”
“Don’t worry.” Finishing off the last of his beer, he sits back with a shake of his head. “No one but us knows what he said, and Alex sure as shit isn’t gonna tell anyone else. He stood in front of our girls, Andi. He stood in front of Jess and Laine and took their bullets. No matter what kind of asshole attitude he wants to throw at us, we’re not leaving him in the cold now.”
“But he’s rejecting rehab?”
Nodding, his eyes cloud. “We can’t force him into that. We can’t force him to do anything. We can only encourage him to change his mind, we can pay his salary so he doesn’t lose his house, pay his medical insurance so he’s not left in debt up to his eyeballs, and file the paperwork for the pension he’s entitled to.”
I blow out an explosive breath and try to think. There’s so much to do, so little time. “Keep doing that. Keep paying that insurance no matter how many times he quits, because shit’s about to get really expensive for him.”
“Yeah, I know. We’ve got it–”
“Where’s the local vet?”
If my random question surprises him, Oz is good at his job and doesn’t let on. “Over near Lakeside. Same street. Why?”
“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today. What is that place?”
“Lakeside? It’s like a retirement village, but for folks like Riley’s mom that need a little more attention.”
My eyes narrow. “Attention?”
“Like, some of them have diabetes, osteoporosis, cancer, cataracts… that sorta stuff. They’re not well enough to live alone, but they’re not a medical emergency either, so they stay in this home, which gives them a sense of community, three hot meals every day, and their meds are administered properly.”
“Riley’s mom is in a home for sick folks?” I glance between Oz and Lindsi. “She can’
t be very old; he’s thirty, so she’s, what, fifty? Sixty? Is she dying?”
“She’s not dying,” Oz answers. “She can’t live alone, but she’s got a lot of steam left in her yet.”
“Okay.” I adjust my plans for tomorrow and nod. “Tomorrow I’m gonna head over to the vet, then to see Riley’s mom.”
“What’s wrong with Nacho, Aunt Andi?” Livi looks up with bright eyes. “She’s okay, right?”
“She’s okay, baby. I promise.” Standing from the table, I collect my plate and stack it on top of Ben’s. Turning and squeezing between our chairs, I take them to the kitchen, then come back to get the rest. “I appreciate you guys having me on short notice. I didn’t really ask to come.”
“You’re always welcome.” Oz collects empty glasses and follows me back to the kitchen. “You always have a room here, so don’t sweat it. Turn up whenever you want; the guest room has only ever been used by you. It’s yours now.”
That’s just who I am, isn’t it? I turn up and demand attention. I take over and brand whatever space I’m in; with my attitude, my perfume, my sass, my messy clothes.
When it’s just me and Oz in the kitchen, and Lindsi is busy with her kids in the dining room, I turn back to Oz and wait for his eyes. It takes him a moment to stop, to recognize the quiet, then to meet my gaze. “Is there anything else I need to know? The leg thing was a shitty secret to keep. If I’d known, I might’ve been able to respond better when I saw him.”
