by Mina Bennett
He sighed heavily, clearly realizing I was there.
"Mari." He looked up from a few notebooks that were spread over his lap. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just don't have the energy for this right now. Can we talk later?"
I clenched my jaw. "No," I said. "No, we need to talk right now."
He sighed again, making a production of closing up his notebooks and setting them aside. "What's going on, Mari?"
"Did you get my message?" I asked him, forcing my voice to be steady.
"Oh," he said, with a little dismissive shake of his head. "Yeah. That's nothing to worry about."
"Excuse me?" I folded my arms across my chest. "What do you mean, it's nothing to worry about?"
"I mean it's fine," he snapped, looking up at me. "Mari, when are you going to learn to trust my judgment?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" I was forcing myself not to sound too upset, but I could feel my sanity slipping away. What on earth was he saying? How could he know it was nothing to worry about, unless...
"Look," he said. "I was worried about you. I asked my friend to keep an eye on you while I was gone. That's all. It didn't occur to me that you might notice him, so I didn't say anything about it. I should've told you. I'm sorry. But I didn't think you'd get hysterical over it."
"You didn't think..." My head was swimming. "Wait. You - that was your friend?"
"Yes," he said, impatiently. "My friend Steve. We had a couple classes together last semester, but he's taking this one off, so he's got some spare time. He just lives over in Walton so I asked if he'd stop by and check on you. That's all." He let out another sigh, in case I hadn't gotten the message yet.
"You should have just told me," I said, my voice quieter than I thought possible. "I was scared, Mark. He was driving behind me while I was walking. I didn't know what was going on."
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, picking up his notebooks again. "I'm sorry he scared you. Now you know, so it won't happen again."
"Make sure I was okay? What did you think was going to happen to me? Your friend stalking me down the street is the creepiest thing that happened since I moved here." I could practically feel steam coming out of my ears.
"See, this is why I didn't say anything. I knew you'd overreact." He sounded mildly disgusted with me, but he was already running his finger over the paper. I'd lost his attention completely.
That still, small voice in the back of my head could no longer be ignored.
"Stop treating me like a child!" I shouted, startling him.
"Well then, stop acting like one!" he snapped, grabbing his notebooks up in one hand, and his briefcase in the other. "I'm going to the coffee shop to work. You better calm down before I get back."
"Or what?" I shouted after him, as he stomped out to the car.
The only answer was the roar of his engine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jacob
So the loan fell through.
It wasn't the end of the world, right? Of course it wasn't. I'd known all along that it was unlikely, that I'd never get it, that it was ridiculous to even think it was a possibility. I never bothered calling Mr. Moore; I couldn't imagine what he could tell me that would make me feel better. I already knew my faults: too young, too idealistic, too inexperienced. I couldn't prove to them that I'd set up a profitable business, and be able to pay them back. I mean, I couldn't prove it to myself, either. But I'd believed that I could.
They, however, didn't. And I could hardly blame them for that.
I decided to focus on what I did have in my life. A job, a girlfriend, and an interest - some would even say a skill - with the bikes, which could still come in handy someday. But for now, I was best off focusing on the present.
Life could certainly be worse.
I moved on.
Mr. Harris just patted me on the shoulder and said I'd "get 'em next time," and I just nodded and smiled, and that was that.
I'd been at work for a few hours, reorganizing the clearance section, when I felt someone touch my arm.
"Hey," Lily said, with a slight smile. "Do you go on break any time soon?"
"Right about now, actually. I'm gonna go grab a soda if you want anything."
"Actually, can we go to the sandwich shop?" She was referring to the sub place down the strip, where I ate a lot of my lunches.
"Okay," I said. "I just have to be back in ten minutes."
She looked around. "Will anybody notice? This place is a ghost town."
I shrugged. "I don't like being late," I said. "Whether anybody notices or not. But it's okay. I can take a minute. I worked through some breaks yesterday." I wasn't sure it worked that way, but I could tell this was important and that she didn't want to wait.
She made a beeline for one of the corner booths when we walked in, and I followed her and sat down. "Did you want to order something?" I asked, even though she clearly didn't.
"Jacob," she said. "Remember how I told you that I was applying to Southwestern? And I thought for sure it was a reach for me, so there was no harm in trying?"
The oven was beeping behind the counter. I couldn't shut out the noise, no matter how hard I tried.
"Jacob," she said. "You remember?"
"Yes," I said, shaking myself back to reality. "Yes, of course. And I told you that you'd be able to get in for sure, with your community service record."
"Well," she said, a little hesitantly, "it turned out that you were right. And my parents said if they move some things around, they can cover the costs, and I...I just can't believe it."
"Congratulations," I said, reaching out and taking hold of her hands across the table. "You worked hard. You deserve it."
"Jacob," she said, hesitantly. "I - thank you. But the reason I wanted to talk to you...I really don't think we can make this work."
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I'd been suspecting this. But it still felt like a punch in the gut.
"I'm sorry," she said. "But it's a long ways away, and I...I just want a fresh start." She let out a breath. "They say that everybody who goes there leaves married. It's an amazing environment for the development of God-honoring relationships."
I wanted to ask her if she'd memorized that from the brochure, but I didn't think it was worth it.
"Sure," I said. "Wouldn't want to miss out on that."
"I'm sorry," she said again. "It's been...I've had a lot of fun being with you. But it's time to get serious about my life. This is the opportunity I've been dreaming of."
"Of course," I said. She had talked about Southwestern Bible College before, and I knew it was too far away for her to come home, except on holidays and summer break. But she'd never talked about what would actually happen if she was accepted.
This, apparently.
"I have to go back to work," I said, standing up.
"Jacob," she said. "I still really care about you. I hope you understand."
"Sure," I said. "I understand just fine."
I walked back to the store, and didn't look back.
***
As it turned out, Mr. Harris did actually notice that I was late coming back. But when I told him why, he just patted me on the back and bought me a soda.
The night passed - agonizingly slowly, but it passed. Mindless work had never really bothered me before, but now, when all I wanted to do was think about something, anything, it was painful. Hearing the same love songs played over and over again, on an endless loop from the speakers above my head, didn't help either. I was looking forward to a long, silent bike ride home, until I remembered that my mom had insisted on coming to pick me up, because she "didn't want me riding home in the dark."
Somehow, until that moment, I'd managed to avoid thinking about the reality of having to tell everyone.
I couldn't face it - not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. After breakfast. Good morning, mom. Lily broke up with me last night.
Maybe not.
When the night was finally over,
I found myself sitting in the passenger seat of the minivan with only a vague memory of clocking out and walking across the parking lot. Mom was tapping the wheel, gently, with her fingers.
"How was work, honey?" she said, absentmindedly.
"Fine," I said. "What's wrong?"
Her mouth was very thin. "It's nothing. I'm just being irrational. Sara's spending the night at Katie's house."
"Oh - really? Wow. Well that's...that's good, right?"
"It is good," said Mom, firmly, pulling out onto the main street. "It's very good for her, and I'm beyond thrilled that she has friends. But I worry. It's my job."
"I'm sure she'll be fine."
"Oh, absolutely. She's got her medication, she hasn't had a seizure in months, and I talked to Katie's mother about how to manage it, just in case anything does happen. She's going to have a great time, and I'm not going to get any sleep tonight." She let out a small, nervous laugh.
Up ahead, lights were flashing. Mom lifted her foot off the accelerator, peering ahead, trying to make out the obstacle ahead. As she did, a police cruiser suddenly appeared, sirens blaring, swerving around her and skidding to a stop just up the road.
"Yikes," she muttered, inching forward cautiously. "What is that?"
"Must have just happened." I craned my neck around to try and see. I thought I caught sight of a large object on the side of the road, but I wasn't sure.
As suddenly as the last one, another cruiser raced up from the other direction, stopping so that his headlights perfectly illuminated the scene of the accident. A light green SUV was overturned in the ditch, and beside it, two paramedics were kneeling next to someone on the pavement. There was a group of teenage girls nearby, huddled in a circle, looking terrified.
And familiar. They looked awfully...familiar.
"Can you see them? I need to get better glasses." Mom was squinting.
"I think..." I swallowed. "It almost looks like Katie and her friends."
"What?" Mom was throwing the car into park and fumbling with her seatbelt before I even finished speaking. "Is Sara there? Do you see Sara?"
"No, but Mom, I'm not -"
But she was already out of the car, running towards the wreck. I hurried out after her.
"Ma'am, please stay clear," one of the officers was saying, reaching out to grab her arm, but she snatched it away from him.
"KATIE!" she shouted, and one of the girls jumped. Now that I was closer, there was no doubt anymore.
Katie was white as a ghost.
"Mrs. Warren," she whispered. "I'm...I'm so...I'm so sorry..."
But my mom wasn't even looking at her anymore. Her eyes were fixed on whoever was lying on the ground, behind the crouching paramedics. I couldn't look. I couldn't look, but I couldn't not look.
"Sara," my mom sobbed, then louder, "SARA!" One of the officers had successfully caught her arm and was holding her back. "Let me go, that's my baby!"
"She's your daughter, ma'am?" One of the paramedics looked up.
"Yes!" Mom was starting to hyperventilate. I reached out and touched her hand, but I wasn't sure she noticed. "Did you not hear me? What's happening? What happened to her?"
"She was in a traffic collision, ma'am. She's still breathing, and she's partially conscious. We won't be able to tell the extent of the injuries until we get her into the hospital and run some tests."
"I don't understand," Mom said, her voice shaking. "What do you mean, she was in a traffic collision? What was she doing in a car?"
"She was driving, ma'am." The paramedic stood up, nodding to his partner. "We're going to take her to the hospital now, if you'd like to follow along."
"Do you feel you're able to drive?" one of the officers wanted to know. My mom couldn't even answer him.
"I can," I said. "I can drive us there."
"You sure, son?" He looked at me with a slight frown on his face.
"Yes," I said. "I'm sure." Mom was already fumbling with her phone, calling Dad in utter hysterics. I felt bad for him, having to find out like this. As if what we'd just gone through was any better.
The paramedics had been blocking most of my view, so I barely saw her before she was wheeled into the ambulance, but I caught sight of a trickle of blood on the side of her head, matting her hair.
My mom didn't talk on the drive to the hospital. The ambulance flipped its lights to let us through every intersection, but I was barely aware of what was happening until we got there.
Mom got on the phone with Katie's mother as soon as Sara was whisked back, and I drove back home to pick Dad up and bring him to the hospital. He looked shell-shocked, standing in the front door with the light on, illuminating the driveway. When he got into the car, he looked like he might be about to say something, but he never found the words. We drove the whole way in silence.
"Apparently," Mom said, after we settled into the waiting room, "she told her friends that we wouldn't let her drive." She took a long, shaky breath, and continued. "She neglected to explain the part about her condition. Another one of the girls - her parents are out of town, I guess, and they only took one car. So she figured it would be a good idea to take a joyride in the other one, and give Sara a chance to have some fun. Katie told her mother they were walking to the park, and they all snuck out. Things went fine at first, until she was on Hobart Road and she started to have a seizure. I'm sure you can fill in the rest of the details yourself." She let out a long, shaky breath. "They say the car flipped - twice. It's a miracle that nobody else was hurt. Just bruises and scrapes. And it could have been much worse. For Sara, too."
"Serious is better than critical, right?" I asked. They both looked at me. "I mean, they said she was in serious condition. But that's not so bad, right?"
My dad cleared his throat. "Yes," he said. "Serious is better than critical."
The doctors came out a little bit later, explaining that she had sustained an injury to her brain, but the extent of the damage was hard to determine at this time. They assured us they were "optimistic." They had induced a coma in preparation for surgery to stabilize her condition, so we weren't going to have a chance to talk to her until much later.
I knew I'd have to go home at some point, to take Molly out and clean up the house a little. But I didn't feel like it just yet. I took a walk down to the hallway of vending machines, walking from one to the other, staring at all the offerings, hypnotized by the lights.
Part of me was angry. What the hell was she thinking? She knew it wasn't safe to drive. But then I remembered all the times Mom had begged me not to ride my bike too far, not too high up, be careful, it's not safe. All the times I'd just ignored her. It wasn't the same thing, not even remotely, but could I really blame Sara for what she did? Going after one little taste of freedom that she'd never really have?
She never even had a chance.
I wasn't allowing myself to think about the possibilities. She was going to be okay. She had to be.
I got a Diet Coke and went back to the waiting room.
"You know, honey," my mom said, as I sat down. "You could go home. Walk Molly. Come back later, after she's woken up."
"I will," I said. "In a little bit."
***
The next thing I knew, someone was shaking me awake. I opened my eyes, then quickly squeezed them shut again at the onslaught of the florescent lights.
"She's awake." My mom looked strangely calm. "They say she's talking, she seems alert. We can go see her now."
The whole thing seemed like a dream, whether because I was groggy or because I still couldn't quite process this reality. Sara looked incredibly small and incredibly pale, tucked into her hospital bed with all kinds of things attached to her.
"I'm sorry, Mom," were the first words out of her mouth.
My mom ran to hug her, holding her gingerly around the tubes and wires. "I'm just glad you're okay," she whispered. I could tell she was trying to hold back tears, knowing Sara would just get uncomfortable if anyone cried. But even s
o, Sara caught my eyes and gave me a look that said it all. I had to hold back a laugh. Even coming back from something like this, she still had a low tolerance for melodrama.
"How are you feeling?" my dad asked, patting her arm a little awkwardly.
"Weird," she said. "Loopy. But okay. I can't remember most of what happened."
"They told us that you might not," said Mom. "But it will start to come back to you."
"So what happened? Did my brain get swollen?" She looked a little fascinated by the idea. "I thought they said something like that. Edema, that's swelling, right?"
"Right," said my dad, smiling a little. "It was swollen, but they were able to relieve the pressure without having to remove a piece of your skull. That's a good sign."
"Oh, gross," said Sara, grinning. "How long do I have to stay?"
"We're not sure yet." Mom was sitting on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly braiding a part of Sara's hair, and Sara - to my astonishment - was tolerating it quite well. "They want to keep an eye on you for a few more days, at least."
"Same old, same old," said Sara, glancing at me. "How's it going, big brother?"
"Good," I said, smiling. "Better now."
"Glad I could help," she deadpanned. "Your phone's ringing."
I hadn't even noticed the sound.
"Jacob," my mom scolded. "You were supposed to turn that off."
"Sorry, sorry," I muttered, hurrying out into the hallway to answer it. I glanced at the screen beforehand - Lily.
I almost didn't pick up, but I changed my mind at the last possible moment.
"Jacob," she said.
"Speaking," I replied.
She was silent for a moment. "I heard there was an accident. With Sara. I'm really sorry, are you guys okay?"
"Yeah," I said. "More or less. She seems to be recovering okay, but her brain got injured a little bit. She's awake, though, and she seems...you know, she seems okay. She's handling it well."
"That's great to hear," she said. "I'm sorry if...well, I felt like I had to call, even though..."
"Sure," I said. "I appreciate it."
