by Mariah Dietz
“Saving lives isn’t volunteering to go shoot off all the confiscated fireworks. Saving lives isn’t blowing off trainings to go screw with your underage girlfriend. Saving lives doesn’t involve signing up for every burn project in the state.”
I think I’m more shocked than Patrick that I’ve finally snapped at him.
“I understand you’re upset right now, and I think we should talk about things, but I also think you’ll agree with me in saying this isn’t the time or place.”
I hate that he’s right. I hate agreeing with him even more.
“You should go,” I tell him. “I’ll let you know what the doctors say.”
“I want to hear what they say. I want to be here when he wakes up.”
“You weren’t here all night!” I cry. “You obviously don’t care enough!”
We all turn at the sound of someone clearing their throat and see Coen standing inside the door with a drink tray and bag in hand.
Patrick stands taller, and for a moment I fear the two might continue what Coen referred to as an altercation, right here in the hospital room.
“I think it would be best for you to leave,” Coen says.
“I told you to stay away from them.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Coen says.
“I can take your badge,” Patrick says, taking a step forward.
Coen shrugs, remaining planted in the same spot.
“Try it and you’ll never see me again,” I warn Patrick. I don’t mean for there to be an implication, but I can tell by Coen’s wince that they all hear one.
Patrick turns to me, his mouth open, ready to protest.
“I need you to leave. We can talk about this later, but right now I am so close to hating you, and I don’t want to hate you, Patrick. I’ve never wanted to hate you. But right now, I’m too close.”
“Ella.” His voice sounds pained, and his eyes give me that familiar plea, the one that’s worked too many times, and it only makes me angrier.
Shaking my head, I point to the door.
“Don’t make me hate you.”
23
Coen
“So, you’re really going to date her?”
I look to Justin and stare blankly at him. “Do you really need me to answer that question again?”
“You’re committing social suicide.” Kristy’s lips pucker with disgust.
“You mean no one’s going to vote for me at prom?” I give her my best look of surprise, which has her rolling her eyes in return.
“He could sabotage your career,” Justin warns me.
“So, I’m supposed to be afraid of this asshole?”
“I’m not telling you to be afraid of him, I’m telling you to consider your future. Is it more important to date a hot chick now or have the career you’ve been working your ass off for later?”
“Honest to God, you’re lucky I like you.”
Justin snickers. “Why? You want to knock me out too?”
“Ella’s not just some hot chick. I’m not dating her to piss off her asshole of an ex, either. This isn’t some reality TV drama.”
“You really think you could marry her one day?”
I don’t even recognize my friend. He’s always been an asshole, but I’ve never taken his words as being more than a crude joke, but right now I realize how offensive most of what he says really is.
“’Cause if you can’t look me in the eye and tell me you want to do anything more than sleep with her and piss off Patrick, then go for it.” He shrugs. “Kiss your career good-bye, and don’t come cryin’ to me when it does.”
“Justin, stop being an asshole.”
I turn to Kristy, amazed because of all the people in this town, I would have picked her to be siding with her husband right now.
Justin is also shocked, his eyebrows raised high into his widow’s peak. “You hate her,” he says. “You’ve always hated her.”
“That’s because I’ve never seen or heard anyone, including herself, say anything different.”
“She thought it would blow over if she didn’t feed into it,” I explain.
Kristy looks like she’s eaten something sour. “That just makes her look guilty. We know she’s smart, so if she isn’t willing to defend herself and we keep hearing about how big of a slut she is, what are we supposed to believe?”
“I was starting to like you for a second,” I say.
“I am not the enemy. I have never once started a rumor about Ella because I don’t know her, and while I might spread rumors about others, I am a fact checker.”
Disregarding all the messages and hymns of my childhood spent at Sunday school, I stare at Kristy with a new question I haven’t even considered before. “Who is making and spreading the rumors?”
She lifts her shoulders. “I’m not sure, but rumors that live this long are typically true. It’s not as though we heard these eight years ago and just can’t forget about them.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Kristy leans forward in her seat. “There are new rumors all the time about her. Saying things about how many times she calls Patrick and begs him to meet her somewhere, how she’s always texting him, following him.” She waves her hand in the air. “I hear a new one at least once a month, sometimes more.”
“So is it him?”
With another sour face, Kristy shakes her head. “No, like three years ago now, Patrick punched someone for throwing a five-dollar bill at Ella and telling her he wanted her on her knees.”
My body heats with anger before I can stop it with reason. “Who in the hell said that to her?”
Kristy’s eyebrows draw up as she leans back. “We’re not going there. You aren’t going to get away with acting like Rambo every time someone says something about her, or you’re going to be hitting everyone in this town.”
“Is it his wife?” I ask. “Is she the one spreading the rumors?”
She shifts her eyes, considering the possibility. “I don’t think so. Lindsay’s sweet. She took the news really hard. I think she even felt guilty because she can’t have kids.”
Narrowing my eyes, I hear her say that again, but this time in Ella’s voice, because that’s where I heard those same words before.
“Who told you that?” I ask.
Kristy shrugs. “I don’t know, why?”
“Curious.”
Justin releases a long breath through his nose and sits back in his seat, cradling his beer. “The guys at the station all have your back,” he tells me before taking a long swig. “Me included. Lance even threatened to walk out if Captain tried to suspend you, and you know what that means.”
I do. The entire station looks up to Lance, including the captain. He’s our father figure and one of the most trusted and respected people in this town. Having him stand up for me is huge.
“Don’t blow off your shift tomorrow,” Justin adds.
“Careful. You’re showing your soft side,” I tease. “You don’t want anyone thinking you might have a heart somewhere in there.”
He flips me off.
“They’re only willing to take me back because of my medical training.”
“Who gives a shit about the why? Care about the what,” Justin says.
“I don’t want to be there if they’re going to look for every excuse to get rid of me later for this.”
“Dude, are you hearing me? The entire station has your back. Don’t worry about it. No one’s even talking about what happened.”
I had been expecting everyone to be talking about Ella and me after punching Patrick in the face. My intentions had been as clear as his, and there was a full room of people to witness it. But Ella told me she had spoken to Rachel, and she still had no idea that we were seeing each other.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at some barbecue? Isn’t that why you were originally going to blow me off again?”
“Oh, stop. I wasn’t blowing you off. My neighbor Rachel invited me over and you know she
’s Ella’s best friend.”
“So Rachel likes you. Ella and you are dating. And Rachel has invited you over for dinner?” Justin smiles, his eyes bright with humor and dirty jokes that I can hear without him saying a word. “I thought you said your life wasn’t a reality show?”
Kristy turns to me with disbelief framing her rounded eyes. “You guys haven’t told her?”
I shake my head. “We were taking things slowly. Ella doesn’t want to hurt her. They’ve been close for years, and well … you’ve seen how this town treats Ella. I don’t want her to lose the one person who’s been a true friend through all the shit people have put her through.”
“Good luck with that,” she says. “You’re going to hang out with Ella’s best friend who likes you, all by yourself? You realize she’s inviting you over for a reason, right?”
“Do you really think I’m that stupid?”
Kristy looks at me as though considering her answer.
“It’s at Ella’s house,” I explain. “Since Hayden was discharged, she’s having a hard time being away from him.”
“How is he?” Justin asks.
I suck in a deep breath. “He’s lucky. Another couple of minutes and we’d be in a very different situation.”
“Was it really bad?” Kristy asks.
I look at her, and for the first time wonder what this town is saying about the night of Hayden’s reaction and the fight between Patrick and me that followed it.
“He was dead when we arrived.” My words are harsh and cold because the question is ridiculous. It doesn’t matter how severe his reaction was. What matters is that it occurred. That there was no one there to save him, and Hayden is now terrified to eat anything or leave his mother’s side. And it’s pushing Ella far outside of her comfort limits as she pretends to act unfazed by the situation, working tirelessly to show she isn’t afraid so as to not perpetuate his fears.
Kristy lowers her gaze and then looks at me. “Maybe after you tell her friend, you can bring her and Hayden over for supper?” she says.
For years, I’ve always seen Kristy as a ball buster. She’s bossy and loud and gives looks that make you feel like less of a person, but as her light blue eyes glance up at me while extending this olive branch, I can see a glimpse of her loyalty.
I don’t know what Ella would think of this idea, but I nod with appreciation.
Rachel opens the door when I knock at Ella’s. “Hey, you,” she says with a smile. “How are you doing?”
“Hey.” I had hoped to beat her here so I could spend a few minutes with Ella and just unwind. There’s something therapeutic about her presence and being able to share my thoughts with her—or just the same moment. I work to not show my disappointment by smiling at Rachel as I step inside.
“I hope you’re hungry. I got off early and started cooking all my favorite barbecue dishes,” Rachel continues as we walk toward the kitchen.
There’s a big box fan between the kitchen and living room, and the back door is open. It’s finally cooled down a little, but it’s still too hot out. I feel Ella’s attention in my chest like a switch being flipped, and then that warmth that comes when she’s near spreads, and much like a fire, it climbs, fast growing in intensity and heat.
My hands itch to reach out and rest on her hips, and my lungs crave to breathe in her scent, making Rachel’s presence an even greater struggle.
“Burn the bacon?” I ask.
“It’s been an hour, and I opened all the windows! How can you smell it?” she cries.
I place a finger on my nose. “Comes with the profession.”
Ella’s smile becomes blinding. “It was her fault,” she says, pointing at Rachel. “I got a call from work, and she said she would watch it.”
“Technically, you were off the call when it burned. I assumed you had taken the baton.”
Ella laughs, but I see traces of fear and sadness lingering in her eyes. She wants to tell her tonight after I head home, and though I’ve suggested we do it together, she insists on doing it alone so if Rachel is upset, she doesn’t have me there to witness it. She’s been trying to arrange time with her all week to let her know, but Rachel’s business just moved to a new and bigger location and she’s been gone a lot. This has been the first time they’ve spent time together, and Rachel had taken it upon herself to invite me as well. It is my own selfishness that is making this more difficult for Ella, because I didn’t want to be away from her for a night, especially when I have to be back at the station tomorrow.
“Well, I was just going to do hotdogs and hamburgers, but Rachel insisted we actually barbecue, so we’ve got enough to feed an army. There’s ribs, short ribs, pulled pork, barbecued chicken, and every side dish you can think of. She even made okra.” Ella points to a large bowl.
She’s telling me this for my own benefit, knowing I can’t stand okra, but I smile and tell them how grateful I am. And it’s genuine. While I don’t care for all the dishes here, I have a deep appreciation for someone cooking for me. I know from the station how much time, work, and energy goes into it and will never take that for granted.
The doorbell rings, and Ella and I look to each other. There’s been silence regarding any and every thing pertaining to Patrick, and as she looks at me, I know we’re both questioning if this is the moment when the pin enters the balloon of silence.
Rachel smiles and claps her hands. “Perfect!”
“What’s perfect? Who is that?” Ella asks.
“Garret!” Rachel’s smile grows before she disappears to answer the door.
“Garret?” I ask, unfamiliar with the name.
Ella’s frown tells me enough, but she tries to explain in a hushed whisper, “We went on a date a few weeks ago. Things have been so busy that I forgot to even send him a message and tell him I’m not interested.”
Annoyance burns stronger than jealousy. I know how much Ella hated the online dates, and seeing her look more defeated than embarrassed tells me it’s explaining to Rachel that she not only doesn’t like Garret, but that she and I are together that’s weighing on her.
“Where’s Hayden?” I ask.
“In his room watching a movie. He’s tired today.”
“That’s normal.” I assure her before glancing toward the front door where Rachel is opening the front door. “We can do this now. Tell both of them at the same time.”
Ella begins to speak as Rachel appears with a man holding a large bouquet of red roses.
Fuck me.
This guy is totally invested, and his cocky grin makes me want to shove him back outside and into whatever car he drove over here.
“Surprise!” Rachel announces, lifting her arms in the air like he’s something to be celebrated.
“Hi, Ella,” Garret says, smiling unabashedly.
Ella steps forward, accepting the goddamn flowers and hugs him. He begins apologizing about Hayden’s recent “incident” but I miss most of it because Rachel steps beside me and wraps both of her hands around my bicep and pulls her chest closer to me.
“Aren’t they adorable?” she says.
I take a deep breath to calm myself, but it seems to only add fuel, as though a real fire is currently burning inside of me.
“I’m so proud of her for finally stepping outside of her comfort zone and finding someone she’s interested in.”
She already has, and it’s me.
“How did you pull this off?” Ella asks, looking to Rachel.
“I know you’ve been really busy with Hayden, and so I just logged in to touch base with him on your behalf and thought this would be perfect since we were all getting together anyway.”
“I hope this is all right,” Garret says, looking between the two women.
“Of course it is!” Rachel answers for them. “I hope you brought your appetite.”
Ella looks to me, her arms full of the roses and her dark hair curled in the loose curls I love weaving my fingers through. Everything about this moment is a hu
ndred times worse than I expected this evening to go, and it’s only the beginning.
Once in the kitchen, Rachel releases my arm and opens Ella’s fridge. “Would you like a margarita?” She holds up a large pitcher of the light green liquid.
I tell her I don’t, fearing it could lead me to say something that will make this all even worse.
“So how is Hayden?” Garret’s question makes Ella’s shoulders square, and anger and frustration subside so I can pay attention to what has her currently on edge.
“You know, I should probably check on him,” she says. “He still isn’t feeling a hundred percent.” As she brushes past me, I see the note of fear in her eyes.
“So you’re Rachel’s boyfriend?” Garret asks.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Rachel cries. “Where are my manners?” She laughs and holds my arm again, her fingers icy from handling the margarita pitcher. “This is Coen. Coen, Garret.” She waves between us, and I feel the obligation to offer my hand.
He takes it, shaking my hand loosely, not realizing he will want to break my nose when he learns Ella and I are together. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says.
I smile, because I can’t manage to repeat the words back to him. “Excuse me,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, sure. Did you need the restroom? Do you know where it is?” Rachel asks, taking two steps to follow me.
“Yeah. I’ve got it, thanks.”
I likely know this house as well as she does, possibly better, considering I’ve switched Ella’s air filters and checked numerous other safety features throughout her house on more than one occasion. I take the steps two at a time, not caring as much as I should about the noise of my footsteps.
Ella is in her room where Hayden is propped up on her million pillows, watching a movie.
“Hey, Coen!” Hayden smiles and sits up.
“Hey, man. How are you feeling today?”
“Good. I just wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Aunt Rachel tonight. She’s been acting crazy all afternoon.”
