by Rylee Swann
A little ball of energy grabs hold of me—Dawn has broken free of the nurses—and I manage to give her a thumbs-up.
“I thought they were going to kill you.” I nod and bring her in for a one-armed hug. “You were amazing, how you held Piston off.” She’s smiling through her tears, pride shining in her eyes.
What a crazy fucking life.
In another couple of minutes, I’m able to stand and walk gingerly with Dawn to a chair that I ease myself into. She sits beside me, her warm hand wrapped in mine.
All of the LAs are gone from the waiting room. Only a few of Divine’s female friends remain to hold down the vigil.
The hospital is probably breathing a huge sigh of relief and I’m figuring it’s better this way. No sense in overwhelming Divine when she’s ready to have visitors. I refuse to think of any other outcome. Divine will be okay and she will be able to have visitors soon.
“Are you okay?”
I look into Dawn’s worried eyes and try taking a normal breath. My lungs scream a bit but allow it. Time to try talking. “Yeah, I think so.” I squeeze her hand. “That was fun, eh?”
She laughs and squeezes back.
That’s when there’s another commotion at the door, and I tense, thinking the LAs are trying to get back in. Instead, I catch a glimpse of flame-red hair, just like Dawn’s.
She follows my gaze and gasps. “I called my parents a little while ago.”
We release each other’s hands out of pure instinct—or is it self-preservation?—but we’re too late. Dawn’s parents descend on us and I stand to take the brunt of whatever fresh hell this will be.
“What is going on here?” Rachel St. Claire demands while Brandon frowns at us.
“Mom, Dad, nothing…”
I wave a hand toward Dawn to stop her and turn to her parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Fahr, I’m not here to see your daughter or to insult you by going against your wishes. I’m here because Divine is a friend of mine.” I take a breath and wince. “Dawn…” Both of their frowns deepen and I realize my mistake. “Raven is a friend also. I was offering her comfort, nothing more.”
“Mom, please.” She holds out a hand to her mother and Rachel takes it. Dawn pulls her down into the chair next to her and burrows her face against her mother’s shoulder. Rachel rubs her daughter’s back while looking up at us, her face creased with worry lines.
Brandon motions to me. “You and me. Over there.” He points to the far side of the room. “I think it’s time we had a little talk.”
I nod and follow him. When we’re out of earshot of the women, I turn to him. “Sir, I’m very so—”
He shakes his head and cuts me off. “What are your intentions?”
“Sir?”
“Toward my daughter.” He sighs and offers a small smile. “There’s obviously something going on between the two of you.”
I feel like I’ve been punched again and continue looking at him, probably with an I’m-a-moron expression on my face. He waits, maybe feeling as awkward as I do.
Finally, I find my voice. “Sir, your daughter might just be the single most important person in the world to me.”
He nods and looks thoughtfully across the room at her. “Does she know that?”
I look at her, too. “I don’t know, sir. I think I’m just starting to realize it for myself.”
He turns back to me with a little knowing smile. “The heart is a delicate yet headstrong organ, isn’t it?” I nod. “Raven is a special young woman. So like her mother in so many ways. I’ve been blessed twice. Don’t waste too much time figuring out what your heart wants. There’ll be hell to pay if you hurt her.”
My mouth drops open and we both look her way again. A nurse is leaning over her talking, then Dawn crumbles into her mother’s arms. A strained noise comes out of my throat and I straighten, wanting to rush to her, held back only by my obligation to finish this conversation with her father.
He doesn’t make me wait. “Go on.”
I don’t wait for him to clarify and dash across the room despite the steady ache in my chest. “What’s wrong?”
Dawn looks up at me, fresh tears in her eyes. “Nothing, Fringe. It’s all good. Divine is going to be okay!”
I heave a relieved breath as the nurse confirms the news. “She’s resting comfortably now. It was touch and go for a minute but it looks like she’s come through the worst of it.”
“Can I see her?” Dawn’s eyes beg the nurse.
“Not tonight, dear. Go home and get some rest yourself.” The nurse smiles down at her in a motherly fashion. “You can come back tomorrow for a visit.”
“Come on, sweetheart.” Dawn’s mother puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her up. “Let’s get you home.”
Dawn nods but breaks away to turn to me. Standing on her toes, she plants a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Be careful. Promise me.”
A little uncomfortable with the display in front of her parents, I nod, but can’t help breaking into a warm smile. “I will. Promise.”
It’s a promise I intend very much to keep.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Raven Dawn
“Damn, you look like shit.”
“Shut up! You evil wench.” Divine smiles up from the hospital bed, but I can see how tired she is. There’s dark circles under her eyes and she’s so pale.
I’d been so scared for her last night, even after they told me she was going to be okay.
Mom and Dad were wonderful last night and this morning—the best of their parenting so far. They didn’t hassle me or lecture about breaking the rules. They were just there for me. They must have called Dean, because he stopped by and wasn’t surprised when I told him the news. He hugged me then made a tower of toast for breakfast. It’s been his comfort food since he was a little kid.
Dad wouldn’t let me take the limo alone to the hospital, so I bugged and bugged until he gave in. We got here just as visitors’ hours started.
I chuckle, happy to be joking with her. “How are you?”
“I feel worse than I look.” She pats the bed next to her and I sit, taking her hands in mine. “They pumped my stomach. It was a fucking nightmare.”
“As long as you’re okay.” I frown and wag a finger at her. “Fuck, you scared me. Don’t ever do that again! Promise me.”
“I promise. Never again.” She squeezes my hands. “I have a newfound appreciation for the finer things in life. You know, like… living.” She’s smiling but I can see in her face the weary remnants of the ordeal.
“Good plan. Shit, Divine, what were you thinking?”
She sighs and looks down. “Guess I wasn’t? I don’t even remember half of what I took.”
“But…”
She looks back up at me. “Can we not talk about it? Please?”
I nod and lean down to hug her, whispering, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Sitting back up, I ready myself for what I want to talk to her about. I’ve been thinking about it all morning and it makes sense to me. I just hope she agrees.
“I want you to come home with me when you’re released. You can stay as long as you want. You know there’s plenty of room. It’d be fun to have you around.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No, I’m being serious. I haven’t asked my parents yet. I wanted to run the idea by you first.” I reach out and brush back a stray lock of her hair. “Let’s finish out high school together in style, like real sisters. What do you say? I’m sure my parents will say it’s okay.”
She stares at me for a second, tears welling in her eyes. “I, umm, don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes! C’mon.” I shake her hands, urging her to agree. “Look, I know your home life better than anyone. This is a good idea.”
A couple of tears slip from her eyes. “The hospital called home and spoke to my mother. She didn’t even bother coming. She doesn’t fucking care.”
“So, come live with me. I care. Say yes
.” My heart is breaking for Divine. I just can’t imagine a world without kind and loving parents.
Slowly, she nods. “Yes.”
I break into a big smile. “Then stop crying. This is a good thing.” I take a tissue and wipe away her tears.
“I’m crying because now I’m stuck with you.”
I look at her wide-eyed for a moment then burst into laughter. She joins in and I lean down to kiss her on the cheek.
“I can’t stay. Dad is waiting for me. I’ll run it by them today and let you know when it’s all set up.” I stand and reluctantly let go of her hands. “Everything’s going to be alright. Promise.”
“Dawn, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“My phone is in that drawer, I think. Can you get it for me? Gonna play some Candy Crush. Gotta do something to pass the time.” She smiles, more relaxed now. I’ve given her some hope and I couldn’t be happier.
Her phone is where she said it would be. Checking it before handing it to her, I see that it’s almost out of juice so I rummage in my bag for my charger. “Here, take this. I’ll text you later.”
“Dawn?”
“Yeah?”
She takes a deep breath and smiles. “Thank you.”
“No worries. Catch ya later.”
When I get back in the limo, I scoot over real fast and give Dad a hug. I’ve caught him off guard and a surprised sound comes out of him that he tries to cover by clearing his throat. I smile and snuggle close to him.
He slips his arm around me, making me feel warm and comforted. “When you were little, you were a hugger. When I’d come home—bedtime, mornings—your arms were always out asking for one. Sometimes, for no reason at all. When you came up to no higher than my knee, you’d often wrap your arms around my legs and look up at me with that adoring little smile of yours.” He looks at me. “Yes, just like that one.”
I feel terrible. I’ve been treating my parents like crap for weeks. “I’m sorry, Dad. You know I love you, right?”
“I know. Of course, I know.” He looks straight ahead but I can see the beginnings of a smirk forming on his face. “But, you’ve been a real bitch to live with lately.”
I gape at him, stunned. “Oh my god, Dad!”
“It’s not true?”
“Well…”
“And, how often do I get to call my daughter a bitch?” He chuckles and pats my arm. “Tell me about this young man of yours. Frack? What kind of name is that? Does he have a brother named Frick?”
Now he’s got me giggling. “Dad, his name is Fringe.”
He glances at me, this time trying not to chuckle. “Frick. Frack. Fringe. I don’t hear any difference.”
“Daaad.” I draw the word out in a very long syllable that daughters the world over are experts at. “Stop it. It’s just a nickname.”
“What kind of nickname is Flick?”
I let out an exasperated sigh and we both laugh.
Once home, we both head into the kitchen where I pull a diet pop from the fridge and Dad leans over me to grab a bottle of beer.
“How is she?” Mom asks from behind us, frowning at Dad until he switches the beer for a pop.
I turn to her with a relieved smile. “She’s doing okay.”
“That’s good, sweetheart. I’m glad to hear it.”
Now is the time to ask them about Divine and my stomach does a little flip. I open the can and take a sip to settle it down and stall.
“Umm… there’s something I want to talk to you both about. About Divine.” They automatically look at me then each other like I’ve just announced a gigantic conspiracy. I bite my lip to keep from commenting on it and motion to the kitchen table. “Could you both sit?”
“Sure, kiddo,” Dad says without argument.
Mom sits as well. So far so good. “What’s this about, sweetie?”
I take another sip of pop to keep my mouth from drying up. Having Divine stay with us is the perfect solution but it’s also the biggest favor I’ve ever seriously asked for.
“Umm… well… this is hard.”
Mom smiles, but it’s her tense, what’s-my-daughter-done-now smile. “Then the faster you say it, the easier it’ll be.”
“Okay, Divine needs help. Her mother is a drug addict and her father is pretty much a bastard who isn’t around much. So, I umm… was wondering if she can stay here with us for a while.” I take a breath and rush on. “We have plenty of room and she won’t be a bother. She thinks she’s fat so she doesn’t eat much and we’ll be at school together every day until the year ends and—”
Mom holds up her hands. “Slow down, Raven. I know I said fast but give me a chance to digest what you’re saying.”
I nod and bite my lip. “Okay, sorry.” Sneaking a peek at Dad, I’m pleased to see he’s not frowning. Even if Mom says no, Dad will convince her later if he thinks the idea is okay. It’s happened like a million times before. They put up the united front and then talk about it later.
Mom is quiet for a moment, her lips pursed. I don’t know if the pause is good or bad, sometimes she’s hard to read, and I nervously take another sip from my can of pop.
“Tell me more about this girl. Divine? Is that really her name?”
“It’s a nickname,” Dad says. “Like her boyfriend, Frick and Frack.” He chuckles, takes a sip of pop, and winks at me.
I don’t know which to be more horrified by—that Dad keeps calling Fringe by ridiculous names or that he called him my boyfriend.
“Dad, Fringe is not my boyfriend.”
He raises an eyebrow, like he’s got a secret, which worries me.
“Mom, Divine’s real name is Holly but no one calls her that. She’s twenty and she’s in most of my classes. She got held back a couple of times. She’s not stupid. She’s just had it rough. That’s part of what’ll be so good about her being here. Umm… what else… she has her own car. A shitty old clunker but it works…”
“Alright…” There’s a dubious look on Mom’s face. I feel like I’m losing her. Shit.
“Mom, please? I want to help her. I promise she won’t be any trouble.”
“Can you promise your father and me that no drugs will come into our home? That she’ll stop using them?”
“Does that include pot?” I look from parent to parent with a wry smile.
“Raven!”
“Oh, come on, Mom. I’ve smelled it plenty of times here and it wasn’t me lighting up.”
She looks aghast, probably at being called out, while Dad just sits quietly drinking and chuckling. He’s clearly letting Mom take the lead on this to find out what her stance is before speaking up.
Mom sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. She suddenly looks a hundred years old, her voice subdued and hesitant. “It’s a bad habit I developed years ago. With the rock lifestyle I’ve lived, I’m fortunate it’s not anything more than that. This doesn’t mean I condone it for your friends or you.”
My eyes widen. This is the most honest she’s been with me about such things like… ever. I suddenly feel closer to her than ever before.
“Thank you for being honest about that.” I smile and get to my feet, feeling a desperate urge to hug her. Wrapping my arms around her lithe frame, I breathe deeply of that special Mom smell that brings forth a rush of love and memories. She also smells like cinnamon. That’s different. Must be a new shampoo. “I love you.”
“Well, now. What’s all this about?” I don’t answer and soon her arms come around me in a tight embrace. “I love you, too, baby. More than you could ever imagine.”
After a while, Dad clears his throat and Mom and I break apart. I retake my seat but realize that Mom and I are still holding hands. I like that.
“So, umm… should I give you and Dad time to think about this?” I don’t want them thinking I put on this big display just to sway them to my side. It would so tarnish the moment.
Dad sets down his pop and shakes his head. “I think it’s a fine idea, kiddo. St. Claire?�
��
We both turn to Mom, who nods. “She can have the room next to yours, sweetheart.” I start to cheer but Mom isn’t done yet. “If we’re going to be responsible for her then I insist that she gets counseling for drugs and anything else she might need. She sounds like a very troubled young woman.”
“Oh my god! Yes, of course, that’s so fair! Thank you! Thank you so much!”
I pull out my cell phone and text Divine, They said yes!
Barely half a minute passes when my phone buzzes.
Divine: Awesome, possum!
CHAPTER TWENTY
Fringe
I no sooner pull into the shop’s lot than Frank is at the door, motioning for me to get in his office. Slowly taking off my gloves and unzipping my coat, I move at a snail’s pace, wanting to delay this as long as possible. There is nothing good Frank could possibly have to say to me today.
I called in sick yesterday. Just wasn’t feeling up to it after everything that happened at the hospital. Frank must know something is going on. I don’t think I’ve missed a day since I started working for him. It doesn’t matter. I’m not about to tell him that I’m worried to show my face anywhere.
What a fucking mess.
I need a plan.
So far, all I’ve come up with is a big, fat goose egg.
The only thing that’s come to mind is to pay a visit on dear old dad. I seriously don’t want that to be my only option. Until I can figure something better out, I might as well get my ass to work today and let the shitstorm land where it will.
“’Morning, Fringe.” Frank waves to his beat-up guest chair. Instead of sitting, I amble to his coffeemaker and raise a questioning eyebrow. “Sure, help yourself. Cold as a witch’s tit today, eh?”
That’s Frank for you. Kind old man, but riddled with clichés.
I suppress a chuckle and pour a cup of coffee into a white Styrofoam cup, keeping it black like my mood’s been. No milk or sugar for me today. Taking a sip before sitting, I grimace at the harsh flavor. “Sure is, and it’ll only get colder before this winter is finished with us.”
He nods and sighs. Deep creases in his forehead cast a troubled countenance, which can only mean trouble for me. Taking out a rag, he wipes his mouth and stuffs it back into a pocket then leans forward and shuffles a few papers around on his ancient black metal desk.
