Breakout Play

by Rebel Hart

  “How did they find out you’d be here?”

  “Beats the shit out of me.”

  “Should we go in another entrance?”

  William shook his head and turned to me. “No. Leave this to me. They won’t leave until they get their chance to ask some questions about all this. I don’t know how they found out. I’m sorry, Kim. I won’t say anything about your dad. I’ll keep it short. You go ahead through another entrance and I’ll catch up with you in the room.”

  I didn’t want him to have to go talk to them. “You shouldn’t. It’s all still so fresh.”

  I meant what I was saying. Everything we’d been through—him especially—had transpired so recently it hardly seemed wise to go and talk to a bunch of reporters about it.

  “I’d rather get it over with,” he said. He nodded back at the emergency entrance about fifty feet back the way we’d come along the side of the hospital. “You go inside. I’ll catch up. Promise.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t want to leave him, but I did. I turned and walked back up the sidewalk and stopped outside the emergency entrance to look down the length of the hospital in search of William.

  He was being swarmed by reporters. They were all asking questions at once. He held up his hands to appease them and began answering. I couldn’t hear anything that was being said, but based on his body language, he was in control of this. His posture was straight, his shoulders squared, his chin held high.

  He knew what he was doing. This was all part of his new life. The life he’d said made him question what people’s intentions were.

  I felt for him in that moment.

  But I had to go see my dad. So I ducked inside and wove through the maze of hospital halls and stairways until I found my father’s ward, and then his room.

  I stopped as soon as I walked in. My dad was propped up in his hospital bed. There was a table tray across his lap, upon which was his breakfast. He was sipping from a plastic cup and stopped midway through when he saw me. He set it down and smiled.

  A sob bubbled up out of me that I hadn’t expected.

  I plunged forward. My mother, who was sitting beside him, shimmied her chair out of the way and made room for me to come in and hug him. I was gentle. The strength in his hug surprised me. He hugged me fiercely and rubbed my back.

  “It’s all right, kiddo,” he said. “I’m all right. We’re all okay.”

  I nodded into his shoulder which was growing wet with my tears. When I finally had myself under control, I wiped my wet cheeks and stood back to find a seat and sink into it.

  “It’s good to see you,” my dad said.

  I smiled back at him as he picked at his yogurt. “It’s good to see you, too. You have no idea.”

  He chuckled but stopped when it caused him discomfort. “I think I have a bit of an idea. Your mother filled me in.” He peered toward the door to his room. “Where’s William? I thought he’d come with you.”

  “He got caught up outside with some reporters. Somehow the media caught wind of what happened, I guess.”

  My father frowned and set his yogurt down. He looked tired. Beaten. Definitely not like his usual self. “I’m glad he’s here. I need to thank him properly.”

  “Just don’t overdo it, okay, Daddy?”

  His frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. “I think it messed him up a bit. It’s still very fresh in his mind. Just… thank him and move on, okay?”

  My father nodded. “Got it.”

  My mother reached over and put her hand on my knee. “Is William okay?”

  “I think so,” I said. Then I nodded decisively. “He will be.”

  I sat with my parents for about fifteen minutes before William came in. He lit up when he saw my dad, who invited him into the room with outstretched arms and demanded a hug. William obliged and was very careful as he embraced my father. Then he fell into a chair beside me.

  “How you feeling?” William asked.

  My father rubbed absently at his chest. “Well. Like I got run over by a car. But the nurses here are taking very good care of me and the painkillers are doing their job.”

  My mother smiled at my father. “If all goes well the doctors think he’ll be home in a week or so. Maybe less.”

  “That’s great,” William said. He shifted in his chair. “Have you heard anything about the driver, Liz?”

  My mother shook her head. “Nothing yet. I haven’t been in contact with the police. I’ve been focusing all my energy here.”

  “Fair enough,” William said.

  My father nodded at William. “Don’t worry about the driver. Everything will sort itself out. House repairs included.”

  “I can help,” William offered.

  My dad smiled at him. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough, saving my life and all?”

  William went red. I shot my dad a warning look.

  But my father was overwhelmed with gratitude. I watched, shocked, as his eyes grew glassy. “Thank you, William. I almost lost everything. My chance to walk my daughter down the aisle. To meet my grandkids. To spend Liz’s retirement years with her. I am a lucky man.”

  William swallowed hard and looked down at his lap. “I did what anyone would have done.”

  My dad wiped his eyes. “Not anyone, son. You did a hard, terrible, messy thing. And I am so grateful to you.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” I interjected, sparing William, who was bleeding discomfort. “No need to go all mushy on us now. How’s that yogurt? Got anything left I can snack on?”

  “Are you trying to steal my food?” my dad asked innocently.

  “Only the stuff you don’t want. You gonna finish those cookies?”

  “Yes. Mind your own business, kid.”

  Snickering, I leaned over his tray, stole a cookie, and fell back into my chair. My dad laughed too and the sound made everything feel right again. I hoped William felt the same way.

  20

  William

  Maxine stood with her arms wrapped around herself. The real estate flyers she carried with her along with her leather bound notebook were pinched between her arms and her breasts, and she watched me run my fingers along the quartz countertops of the kitchen in the fourth penthouse we viewed on Saturday morning.

  I caught her staring and paused. “What is it?”

  Maxine lifted her chin and gave me a slight one-shoulder shrug. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit, Maxine. You have a thought. Spit it out.”

  A smile curled the corner of her lips. They were red today, painted the same shade to match her high-waisted wide leg pants. She looked good. I couldn’t deny that. “You like this one, don’t you?” she asked coyly.

  “I do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course you do. The one I thought would be a waste of time to show you is the one you want to buy. Go figure.”

  “Why did you think it was a waste of time?”

  She scoffed and moved toward the counter where she set down her notebook and flyers. “Any client I’ve ever had with your budget would laugh me out of the penthouse if I showed them a place like this.”

  I looked around the kitchen and open floor plan of the penthouse. The gourmet kitchen was sleek and modern with black cabinets and white countertops. There would be room for bar stools, which reminded me of the Renwick kitchen, and space for a large dining room table should I want one. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d ever have over for dinner besides Kim’s family, but that wasn’t the point.

  The living room was a sprawling open space with windows and a skylight above that painted the whole place in sunlight. Off the living room was a hall leading to the bathroom and three bedrooms. A second bath was attached to the master suite complete with a rain and steam shower.

  Off the living room was also the patio, which wrapped around the dining room and kitchen as well and boasted three doors, one from each room, to go outside. There was no pool but there was a hot tub as well as plenty of
space for lounging. There was even grass and my own tree out there even though we were forty stories up.

  “Sorry, Maxine. I know it’s not your taste. But I think it’s mine.”

  Maxine flashed me a white smile. “Don’t be sorry, sugar. Buying a home is an intimate purchase. It has to speak to you. I think, perhaps, I was letting the other ones we viewed speak to me instead of you. I apologize. It’s hard to work with someone I know personally sometimes without overstepping.”

  “You haven’t overstepped. You brought me here.”

  She giggled almost bashfully. “Does this mean you’re ready to put in an offer?”

  “Yes. I want it. Make an offer you know they can’t refuse.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Maxine stepped out onto the patio to make some calls. She’d been in touch with the selling realtor already when we first walked into the place and let him know that she had a feeling I might want to buy. He’d told his sellers, and they were all waiting patiently to hear back from us.

  While she made the call I couldn’t help but think about how badly I wanted Kim to see this place. I knew she’d like how bright it was. She’d love the city views, too. And maybe she would appreciate that I hadn’t gone balls to the wall with my budget and bought the most lavish penthouse I could find.

  Maxine wasn’t on the phone very long. After about seven minutes or so, she came back in with a broad smile. She didn’t say anything to me as she strode to the fridge and tugged it open. Inside was a bottle of champagne, which she promptly popped, shooting the cork all the way from the kitchen to the fireplace in the living room.

  She handed me the bottle. “Cheers. You’re officially the owner of this penthouse.”

  “No way!”

  “Way.” She grinned.

  I tilted the bottle back and took a swig. Bubbles danced in my throat as I passed it back to her. Maxine did the same and dabbed at her red lipstick with the back of her hand. “Congratulations.” She beamed. “Once you’re all moved in you’ll have to invite me over for a real drink with wine glasses. And dinner, perhaps.”

  I took another sip from the bottle. “I’ll let you know.”

  No I wouldn’t. The only woman I intended to have over for drinks was Kim. If she was so inclined, of course.

  The Renwick house was already looking less like a crash site and more like its normal self when I pulled into the driveway at six o’clock in the evening on Saturday. Liz’s car was gone, but she herself was standing in the front lawn talking to a man in dark blue coveralls. I assumed he was one of the contractors working on the house.

  The construction on the living room wall was well underway. The outside of the structure was almost entirely complete and drywall would be put up tomorrow afternoon. When I got out of my car, Liz nodded and smiled at me. I went up the drive and stepped inside, not wanting to bother her, and found Keith in the living room staring at the wall, which was packed tightly with insulation. The newly fitted window was dusty and covered in fingerprints.

  I closed the front door and Keith looked up at me.

  “Hey, man,” he said. “How’d it go?”

  “Good,” I said rather sheepishly. Then I grinned. “I bought a place.”

  “Really?” Keith’s eyes widened in surprise. “Just like that? It’s yours? Isn’t there a waiting process once you make an offer?”

  I wasn’t going to tell him I threw enough money at the sellers to make sure they didn’t say no. Instead I shrugged and slid my hands into my jean pockets. “I got lucky, I guess.”

  “No shit.”

  “How are things here?” I asked.

  Keith ran a hand down his face wearily. “All right. I mean, Mom is handling this like a champ. I don’t know where it all came from. I think she just wants all this handled and back to normal before Dad gets home, you know?”

  “Makes sense.”

  “She and I are going to head to the hospital once she finishes up with the contractor. Going to bring him something to eat. I think the hospital food is already getting to him and Mom wants to bring him some real food. Want to come along?”

  “I was planning to visit him tomorrow. You guys go. Tell him I said hi.”

  “Sure,” Keith said. “When the dust settles we should go out and celebrate your new purchase. Grab a bite to eat and go to Dickie’s or something?”

  “Sure.”

  Liz came through the front door. She kicked off her shoes and shrugged out of her cardigan, which she draped on the hook behind her. Then she clapped her hands together. “Okay, Keith. I’m going to throw your father’s dinner together in a to-go bag and then I’m ready to head out. Hi William. Are you coming with us?”

  “Hi,” I said. “Not tonight. I’ll go visit tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good,” she said. Then she was off toward the kitchen. Keith was right. She was firing on all cylinders. I suspected when Roger got home and all went back to normal she would sleep for a good three days to recover. She deserved it. Hell. At this point it felt like we all deserved it. Shopping for a house this morning had felt a little… self indulgent. Carrying on with life like nothing had happened felt wrong but also necessary, and I had to admit, it felt kind of nice spending some time with someone who didn’t know what had happened over the past two days with Roger and the accident.

  Being able to shut off that part of my brain was a much-needed reprieve. Now that I was back in the house, the heaviness of it all seemed to be pushing harder and harder against my shoulders.

  I found a seat in the kitchen and chatted with Keith and Liz while they got things ready. I asked when Kim would be home and Liz told me she should be walking through the door any minute. Her shift at the rink had ended fifteen or so minutes ago.

  Keith and Liz left before Kim got home. She arrived five minutes after they’d pulled out of the drive, looking a little worn down and frazzled. When she saw me in the kitchen sipping on some ice water, she smiled.

  “Hey,” she said. “I didn’t think anyone would be home. I figured you’d have gone to the hospital with the others.”

  “They took the car,” I said. “I thought I’d hang around in case you needed a ride there. How’d you get home, anyway?”

  “Eugene drove me.”

  “Ah. Right.” I set my water down. “Did you want to go see your dad?”

  Kim shook her head. “No. I think I’ll let him have some time with Mom and Keith. I went this morning before work. Besides, I think I need a break from the whole thing.” She paused and chewed the inside of her cheek as she eyed me. “Does that make me a bad person?”

  “Not at all. You deserve a break. Did you have something planned for the night?”

  Kim shook her head. “No. Not really. I was thinking about throwing a movie on.”

  I nodded.

  Suddenly it seemed like neither of us knew what to say.

  It had been this way since she’d kissed me in the kitchen the previous morning. We were skirting around each other a bit, wondering what the right thing to do or say was. The dynamic had shifted and I couldn’t pinpoint what she wanted from me. Did she want me to pretend nothing had happened?

  Or did she want me to gather her up in my arms and show her what a real kiss felt like?

  I was lost.

  Hoping to distract ourselves with something, I opened my mouth to tell her I’d bought a penthouse today. But she beat me to the punch.

  “Do you want to watch something with me?” she asked innocently.

  “Sure.”

  She beamed. “Yeah?”

  “Why not?” Then I frowned. “Uh. Where are we going to watch it? The living room is kinda… well, fucked.”

  Kim’s smile faltered and fell. “Oh. Right. I guess we can watch it on a laptop or something?”

  That didn’t sound good enough to me. I wanted to give Kim the reprieve I’d had that morning while shopping for a penthouse. She should be able to disconnect from the craziness that was her life right now and en
joy herself for a couple of hours.

  An idea struck me.

  “Does your dad still have that Bluetooth projector?”

  “I think so.”

  I grinned. “Go grab it. I have an idea.”

  21

  Kimberly

  The backyard was fully dark when William poked his head through the sliding doors.

  “Hey,” he said, “come check it out.”

  I looked up from the pizza crust I was presently covering in marinara sauce. Initially we were going to order in, and then I remembered all the ingredients we could possibly want on a pizza were in my parents’ fridge, and with my dad being in the hospital it was unlikely anybody would be able to eat their way through everything before it went bad. So really, William and I were doing my folks a favor.

  “One sec,” I said, stealing an extra minute to finish with the sauce and then wash my hands. Then I followed him out through the sliding doors onto the stone patio where my parents had their outdoor furniture set up under cover. William led me past the chairs and table and onto the lawn, where he’d set up a blanket and pillows. Two extra blankets were folded at the end of the spread in case it got cold. There was an icebox with bottles of water in it and, at the very end of the blanket spread across the lawn, was a box upon which the projector sat.

  It shot a bright screen image onto a white sheet pinned to the back fence of the yard. The quality was pretty good.

  “Wow,” I said. “This is… really nice.”

  “You think?” He asked eagerly, rocking back on his heels as he slid his hands into his pockets. He looked back and forth between me and the makeshift sheet screen with a goofy grin on his face. “Not to toot my own horn, but I don’t think it’s too shabby either.”

  “It’s brilliant.” I meant it. The whole setup was perfect. One might even say it was romantic. “I’m about to put the pizza in the oven, then we should be good to go in fifteen or twenty minutes.”