With nothing else to say, I watch my brother push through the double doors and out of sight. Part of me wants to go after him and comfort him but I know he doesn’t want me. Heather is the one he will want to console him. I glance in the direction of my mom’s room. Nerves prickle my skin and goosebumps rise on the surface.
“Go ahead, Kay.” Eryc urges me forward, guiding me down the hall to room 326. “I’ll be right here. Take as long as you need, I’ll find a chair or something to sit in if I need to.”
Those four words I’ll be right here, ease some of the anxiety from my body. I’m not here alone. Eryc is here with me and will come to my aid should I need him. Again, I wonder how I got so lucky as to have him as a friend.
Sunlight filters in through the blinds and a yawn stretches my mouth wide. Time has completely slipped away from me and I haven’t even taken a moment to check on Eryc. I know he is still here, I can’t explain it but I can feel his presence.
Kissing my mom’s hand, I stand and stretch my achy back. “I need to go home and rest but I’ll be back. I love you, mom.” Despite what Rene said about my mom being able to hear me, I’m not sure if she actually can. Regardless, I’ve been speaking to her as if she does.
The door opens with a creak. Black chucks are the first thing I see as I peer out, my eyes travel the length of those long legs to his body and finally land on his face. Eryc is sitting in a hard-plastic chair, his head is leaning to the side, and he is sound asleep.
How did he manage to stay here overnight? Don’t the nursing staff run visitors off after a certain period?
His body tilts to the left and then jerks back into its original position. With his neck resting on his shoulder, I’m sure he is uncomfortable. Jeez, now I feel like an idiot. I should have sent him home hours ago. Instead, I selfishly let him stay out here in the hallway while I sat beside my mom, watching her sleep, or whatever you call being heavily sedated.
Squatting down, I watch him sleep for a moment longer. It’s strange, though his body is in the most uncomfortable position, his face is peaceful. A couple of seconds pass and he cracks his eyes open, blinking moisture into them. A smile lights his face. “Hey, how’s your mom?”
Black and blue. Swollen. Broken. Deathly pale. Unrecognizable. All of those describe my mom perfectly, but I know that’s not what Eryc is asking. “She looks bad but the last time the nurse came in to check her vitals, she said mom had made some minor improvements.”
“That’s good.” He stands and offers me a hand.
I’m reluctant to take his hand but I also don’t want to offend him, he did sleep awkwardly in the hospital hallway just to be near incase I needed him. Slipping my hand into his, I allow him to pull me up. Exhaustion has finally won and forces a yawn from me. “Do you mind driving me home? I’m so tired.”
Sitting next to my mom, I didn’t close my eyes once. I was afraid that if I shut my eyes, she might open hers. She didn’t. The nurse informed me that it would be another day or two before they take her off the medication that is keeping her sedated.
Another yawn pries my lips apart. My body needs rest and if I don’t get home soon, I may pass out right here. Eryc gestures for me to follow him. We walk side-by-side toward the double doors. The nursing staff wave at me with sympathetic smiles on their faces.
Doctors pass us with electronic devices in hand. Visitors wonder the halls, looking for their loved ones.
When we arrive at the parking garage, I remember that we did not ride in Eryc’s car last night, we rode in Rene’s. I open my mouth to tell him we can call a cab and I will pay for it when we get to my house, but as we walk through the parking garage, I see Eryc’s car. “We didn’t ride in your car last night. How did this get here?”
“No, we didn’t.” Eryc presses the key fob and the doors unlock. “Aunt Rene arranged to have it brought in for me.” I slide into the passenger seat when he opens the door for me. “Let’s get you home, Kay.”
Chapter Ten
Eryc
Silence blankets us the entire fifteen-minute drive back to Makayla’s house. I keep glancing at her but I have no idea what to say. It’s not like I can just make small talk about football or math. Talk about insensitive. As I gaze at her face I notice dark bags that sag under each of her eyes, and the end of her nose is now red where she has blown it frequently this evening, or rather, morning.
Pulling into her driveway, I shut off the engine and just sit there, staring out the windshield. I open my mouth to speak but shut it immediately. She makes no move to exit the car so I sit patiently and just wait. If she needs a moment of silence then I will give it to her.
One minute turns into two, and two into three. No words have been uttered from either of us and the silence is deafening. The vehicle shakes from the bouncing of her leg. Makayla is lost in her own world of pain and sorrow and there is nothing I can do to take that away from her. I wish I could just pull her into my arms and hold her, but the last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable.
Time ticks by slower than molasses. Makayla continues to stare out of her window, her leg still bouncing, and now she is sniffling. I pull out the remaining tissues from my back pocket and hand them to her. It takes her a minute but she accepts the tissues and wipes her nose. Without so much as a glance in my direction, she exits the car.
I hate seeing her so defeated.
Pulling the keys from the ignition, I chase after her. In the garage, the roar of a motorcycle sounds and then the overhead door rises. Thaddeus zooms out and down the road at a high speed, never acknowledging either of us as we stand in the yard and watch him race past. I pray he doesn’t wreck and end up in a room next to his mother, or worse. I don’t think Makayla could handle another tragedy right now.
Makayla looks at her empty hands, probably just now realizing her predicament. Last night we left in such a hurry that she didn’t grab her purse which means she has no key to unlock the front door with. A fresh tear falls down her cheek and she wrings her hands in front of her. I open my mouth to tell her she can come over to my house until her brother returns home, when I notice the garage door is still open.
Taking her by the hand, I say, “Come on, Kay,” as I tug her toward the garage.
At first, she hesitates but then she allows me to drag her inside the garage. Makayla’s eyes are downcast and her movements are more machinelike than human. Once we reach the door leading to the inside, I sigh in relief when I discover that Thaddeus had left in such a haste he failed to pull the door closed.
Makayla is still robotically following me. Keeping my hold on her hand, I reach out and push the button on the wall to close the overhead door and tug Makayla inside the house. What lies on the other side of this door shocks me and I consider taking her across the lawn to my house until I can get this mess cleaned up.
The kitchen is a complete disaster. It looks like a tornado swept through and destroyed everything in its wake. The large black trashcan has been kicked over, trash littering the floor. In the corner, the dining room table is overturned and a crystal vase lay shattered in the midst.
Loud sobs come from the other room and I follow the sound. As I come to the living room, I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Makayla should not have to deal with this right now, it’s not fair to her.
Makayla is standing amid more destruction, her hands covering her face and she is sobbing uncontrollably. Judging by her posture and the sound of her sobs, I would say she is on the verge of a mental breakdown.
“Come on, Kay.” I motion for her to come out of the living room.
Without hesitation, she steps out of the room to stand by my side. She doesn’t say a word but she does look at me with a sad smile on her lips. Moving past me, she ascends the stairs with slow, exhausted steps.
Stepping into the living room, I take in the extent of the damage. The expensive table lamp is on the floor at the other end of the room, shattered into a million pieces. Sharp glass litters the living room floor from
lamps, dishes, and God only knows what. Both end tables are turned over and papers are strewn throughout the room.
This mess isn’t something Makayla needs to stress over. While she is upstairs, I start picking up papers, stacking them on the entertainment stand. They appear to be legal papers for a case Brenda is working on. These are important so I place a nearby book on top to hold them in place.
This place is in such a disarray and it will take me at least two hours to get it back into decent condition. Turning the end tables over and putting them back into place, I set about cleaning the house. I pick up as much of the glass as I can and sweep up the rest.
Once I finish with the living room, I make my way to the kitchen and start with the trash littering the floor. This room seems to take longer to clean, probably because of the amount of garbage I have to pick up.
After I get everything back in order, I stand at the bottom of the staircase and debate on whether I should stay or go. We haven’t been friends for so long, she may not even want me here. On the other hand, she has been my friend for much longer than not and I want to be in earshot should she need me.
So, I stay.
Chapter Eleven
Makayla
Prunes. That is what my fingers and toes currently look like, shriveled-up plums, or better known as prunes.
Seeing the destruction Thaddeus left behind had escalated my already pounding head so when Eryc suggested I remove myself from the mess, I did. It took a great effort to climb the stairs, as I had no energy left in my body, but I made it. Instead of collapsing on my bed like I wanted to, I drew a hot bath to relax in.
I’m sure Eryc thinks I am an ill-mannered brat, I never even looked back at him or excused myself. Like a rude and selfish child, I just left him standing there to stare at the chaos left behind by my irate brother.
Scooping up a handful of bubbles, I blow and watch them scatter in the air and float downward. The water is beginning to chill, which is a good indicator that I should get out. Blowing another handful of bubbles into the air, I pull the plug and reach for a towel.
As I dry off, I wonder if Eryc is still here. I can’t imagine why he would stay, I haven’t been friendly to him in a long time. What a fool I have been. Leave it to me to ruin everything good in my life. After I dress I will go downstairs to see if by chance he did stay.
I need to thank him for everything he has done for me. He didn’t have to be there for me last night, or I guess I should say this morning, but he was.
Wrapping my hair in a towel, I pick up my dirty clothes—the sterile hospital smell still clings to the fabric—and carry them to my bedroom, discarding them in the hamper. As I near the stairs, the smell of bacon wafts up from the stairway. An angry growl erupts from my stomach at the heavenly aroma.
I’m half expecting to see my mom standing at the stove when I enter the kitchen but she is not here, Eryc is. My chest tightens at the thought that she may never be here again. I know I shouldn’t be thinking like this but it’s the truth. There is still a chance she won’t pull through.
Pushing those taunting thoughts aside, I inhale through the nose and hold it for three beats before letting it out. Somewhat calmer, I lean against the doorframe and take in the scene in front of me.
Music plays from his cell phone. If I had to guess by the lyrics, the title is Oh Lord. Eryc flips a pancake then holds the spatula up like a microphone and continues singing. His hips sway back and forth and his head bobs to the beat. Spinning on his heel, he belts out the lyrics but stops short, nearly dropping the plate, when he sees me standing in the doorway.
“Good grief, girl. Do you float on air or what?” Setting the plate on the counter, he clutches his chest. “I almost broke a plate and dang near wet my pants.”
For the first time in what seems like forever, I smile. Not just smile, a giggle slips from my lips. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The song playing from his phone is one I haven’t heard before and I listen to a lot of music. “What are you listening to?”
Piling pancakes on his discarded plate, he gathers two plates from the cabinet and carries them to the table. “That’s NF.”
Interesting, I have never heard of NF. Never in a million years would I have pegged Eryc as one to like rap music. How fascinating.
“Hum.” You learn something new every day. “Well, I like it.” Pulling open the drawer, I gather silverware while he fills two mugs with coffee.
Sliding a mug toward me, he asks, “Do you want cream or sugar?”
Cream or sugar? Yuck, gag me with a spoon. I can’t imagine contaminating my coffee with either of those items. Blech, thanks but no thanks. “No thanks. I drink my coffee black.”
Eryc raises a brow. “A girl who drinks black coffee.” He smiles like maybe he is impressed. “Now, that’s interesting.” Retrieving the skillet from the stove, he scoops eggs onto our plates along with two slices of bacon.
Bacon, eggs, and pancakes. I had no idea the boy could cook. Years ago, when we still hung out, he couldn’t microwave a frozen dinner, and now he is cooking a full course breakfast. “Eryc, you didn’t have to cook for me. I’ve been cooking for years, I could have managed on my own.”
“Yes, I know you are quite capable of taking care of yourself.” He pours milk into his mug then adds two teaspoons of sugar, stirring the contents until his coffee is a light latte color. “Kay, you’re going through a hard time right now. I wasn’t about to let you deal with life on your own. Besides, I’m happy to help.”
Is my mom’s tragedy the only reason he is here?
Flashbacks of him coming over with cookies float in my thoughts. No, my mom is not the sole reason he is helping me.
Eryc still cares about our friendship.
That knowledge eases some of the pain tightening in my chest and allows me to relax my shoulders. He still wants to be my friend and now I don’t have to deal with this pain all by myself.
If only I could rid myself of the other pain infecting me.
Chapter Twelve
Eryc
Edward and Bella. Makayla cannot stop talking about her favorite vampire movies. Honestly, I think this is her way of getting her mind off her mother. Which I’m okay with.
I gather up our dirty dishes and scrape them in the trash before filling the sink with soapy water. Truth be told, I have seen these movies a million times. Heck, I own all four books and the novella, but I listen to her like this is the first time I am hearing of Twilight.
“So, do you believe in that kind of love? The kind that binds your soul to another. The kind that makes you willingly put yourself in the line of fire to protect the one you love.”
The small, unsureness in her voice raises the hairs on my neck but I can’t explain why. Her simple question, brought on by talk of the movie series, seems like a normal discussion but I am detecting a hint of sadness in her tone of voice at the mention of love. Makayla is a girl, this should be a topic for her to gush over, not feel unsure about.
My stomach is twisting in knots over the tone of her voice. I glance over my shoulder and take in her posture. She is sitting on the kitchen island, kicking her feet back and forth, and looking down at her hands while chewing on her bottom lip.
Picking up the hand towel, I dry my hands and turn to face her. She angles her head and her auburn curls fall in a curtain over her face, obstructing my view. Why is she so nervous? I don’t get it.
Hoping to ease her nerves, I answer honestly. “Yes, Kay, I believe in that kind of love.”
When she lifts her eyes to mine, I see fear hidden in their depths. “I want that. I want it so bad, to be loved and cherished above all else.”
“You’ll have it someday.” I want to tell her that I have always loved and cherished her but I don’t want to spoil the moment, or ruin this rekindling of friendship we have so recently fallen into. It has been too long since she has opened up to me. To avoid blurting out my true feelings, I return to washing the dishes.
&
nbsp; Silence fills the space around us while I finish the remaining dishes. Rinsing the last plate, I pull the stopper from the sink and turn to ask if she needs anything.
My eyes widen when I take in her appearance.
Eyes closed and body relaxing, exhaustion has finally won. Makayla’s body starts to sway and I wipe my soapy hands on my thighs. Not wanting her to fall off the countertop, I dash toward her and lift her against my chest.
The movement doesn’t stir her, she is nothing but dead weight in my arms. Looking down at her, I study her features. Dark sunken eyes, pale skin, worry lines on her forehead, and creasing at the corners of her eyes. This has to be more than just worry for her mother. This kind of exhaustion comes from weeks of restless nights. But what is eating away at her?
Finding her room is easy, I spent most of our childhood up here building forts with her. It’s true what they say about dead weight making a person heavier than what they truly are. Carrying her up the stairs is a challenge and my forehead has a light sheen of sweat coating it.
Shoving the door open with my foot, I carry her to the bed. Blankets are twisted at the bottom of the mattress where she must have tossed them last night. Settling her onto the bed, I pull the blanket up to her shoulders.
Lying this still, she reminds me of Sleeping Beauty.
My sleeping beauty.
Bang.
The pounding of my heart rings loudly in my ears.
What on God’s green earth was that?
It sounded like the front door had been kicked in. Either it’s a burglar who is brave enough to make this kind of racket in the daylight, or Thaddeus is home and taking out his frustration on the house, again.
Unaffected by the noises around her, Makayla lays undisturbed, snoring softly. I don’t know how she can sleep through that, it even rattled the walls. Smoothing my finger down the bridge of her nose, I tiptoe from the room to investigate.
Pieces of Me Page 5
