by T. L. Hayes
Before the second man could swing his bat again, the first one was on his feet and taking the bat from him. “Give me that, she’s my sister.” He looked down at Bobby and spit in his face, then said, “You stay away from my sister, you fucking pervert freak.”
“I don’t even know who she is.”
“Oh, you know.” Without warning, the man standing over him raised his bat and struck Bobby on his side.
When Bobby fell over, both guys started kicking him. Boots found purchase wherever they could: ribs, face, stomach, groin, chest. Bobby tried to cover his face as best he could, but he only had one arm he could move and when that arm was exposed, it too got struck again. The parting blow was a boot to the face, which cracked Bobby’s nose.
The last thing the guy said before he and his buddy got in their car and left was, “That was for Lori, you son of a bitch.”
Confused, bloodied, unable to move, Bobby’s last thought before passing out into blissful sleep was, Why?
* * *
Rachel was worried. It was almost two and she hadn’t heard from Bobby in over three hours. He had done a good job up until now about contacting her every hour, but with nothing for nearly three hours, she was trying not to look as worried as she felt. While she and Rory were at the bar she kept her phone out on the table the whole time and kept stealing glances at it, hoping Rory wouldn’t notice.
“God, you’re so rude. You’re supposed to be on a date with me.”
Rachel gave her a wan smile. “Sorry.” She turned her phone over so she couldn’t see the screen.
“What, no comeback? No witty rejoinder? That’s not like you.”
“I know. I’m slipping.”
“It’s okay, I forgive you. Why don’t you call him?”
“He might be asleep. I keep telling myself that he probably just got busy at work, then went home and passed out. Nothing to worry about.” She put on a brave smile for Rory’s benefit but it did nothing to assuage her fear.
“Yeah, that’s probably it. Maybe you’ll feel better if you just call him.”
“I don’t want to wake him.” Rachel toyed with the straw in her drink.
Gently, Rory said, “Or, you don’t want him to not answer and worry you more.”
Rachel sighed. “Right. Tell me I’m being stupid.”
“I will not. You love him and you’re concerned. That’s normal.”
“I never said I loved him.”
Rory said nothing, just smiled and gave Rachel a pointed look over her drink.
“Dammit, Morgan!” In exasperation, Rachel picked up her phone and called Bobby. After five rings his voicemail picked up and she left a message. “Hey, it’s me. Just making sure you’re all right. Call me when you get this. I don’t care what time it is.” She disconnected the call and placed her phone upside down on the table. Rory quietly reached over and flipped it back.
“It’s okay to be worried. And no, you didn’t say you love him, but still.”
“Do you make Maggie call you when she goes out of town?”
“All the time. When her plane lands, when she goes to bed, when she leaves. And she will text when she can.” Rory laughed. “I can live without her but I miss her like crazy and I worry too, though about different things.”
“Such as?”
“Normal stuff, like plane crashes, storms, conference hookups.” Rory shrugged.
“Conference hookups?”
“Yeah, it’s a thing. They’re in a hotel, away from home. It happens.”
“Morgan, you have nothing to worry about. Maggie loves you and she’s not a slut.”
“That’s true. As you would say, how could she not love me?”
“Right! Who couldn’t love us? We’re young, hot, and—well, that’s all we need.”
“Exactly.” Rory put her arm around Rachel’s shoulders and pulled her closer. Rachel noticed her friend was starting to show the signs of too many longnecks. “Come on, let’s dance.” Rory stood up and tried to drag Rachel with her to the dance floor.
Laughing, Rachel took hold of Rory’s arm and held her ground. “I don’t think so. I think it’s time to call our ride.” Maggie had agreed to be their designated driver but she had declined to stay, giving them their time alone. Rachel had been most grateful.
Rory put both hands on Rachel’s shoulders. “You, my friend, need to live a little.”
Rachel laughed. “And you, my friend, are drunk. I think it’s time to go.” She put her arm around Rory’s waist and started to propel her toward the door.
“I’m not drunk, I’m an actress.”
“You’re a drunk actress. You know, for an Irish girl, you can’t hold your liquor.”
“Sure I can—by the ears!”
“God, you’re such an asshole. How you ever found a girlfriend is beyond me.”
“Are you forgetting how hot I am?”
“How could I? Come on, let’s get some air and I’ll call Maggie.” They walked out arm in arm, mainly so Rachel could make sure Rory followed. For the next several minutes while she dealt with an inebriated Rory, Rachel almost forgot to worry.
Chapter Sixteen
Rachel was tossing and turning on the couch. She was tired and the alcohol had definitely made her drowsy, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she heard from Bobby. She kept imagining all kinds of things that could have happened to him. Then she would chastise herself and tell herself that she was overreacting. She tried to lure herself to sleep with the mantra, He’s fine. He’s just asleep. He’ll call in the morning. He’s fine.
Just as it was starting to work, a few hours after she and Rory had gotten home from the bar, her phone vibrated on the end table and she quickly reached for it, but was disappointed and curious when it was an unknown number with the same area code as Prairieland. She answered cautiously, “Hello?”
“Rachel?”
Rachel suddenly started to panic and she could feel her heart start to beat faster. Her voice wavered when she answered. “Chris?” Then she asked, almost nonsensically, “How’d you get my number?”
“From Bobby’s phone. I’m sorry for waking you.”
Her voice came quickly when she asked, “From Bobby’s phone? What do you mean, Bobby’s phone? Why didn’t you just ask him for my number?”
“Because I couldn’t,” Chris said calmly.
Trying not to cry out, Rachel asked as calmly as she could, “What’s wrong?” Something had to be wrong, that’s the only reason he would be calling her so early and why Bobby couldn’t answer for himself.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“I think you should have someone with you before I tell you.”
“Just tell me.” She almost yelled, but she recovered and almost whispered, “Just tell me, Chris.”
Chris sighed, then began. “First, you should know he’s alive. But he was jumped again and beat up pretty badly. He’s unconscious and the doctor doesn’t know how long that’s going to last, or if…” Chris paused and swallowed, then began again. “They did a CT scan and some other things. He’s got several broken bones. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this.” There were unmistakable tears in Chris’s voice when he stopped talking.
There were tears on Rachel’s cheeks that she hastily wiped away and she said, “What hospital?”
Chris told her the hospital and the room number. “You don’t have to cut your vacation short. I can keep you updated.”
Rachel threw the blanket off and stood up. “No, I’ll be there. I have to be there. Thanks for calling.” She was about to hang up, when a thought occurred to her. “Is Marissa with you?”
Chris said softly, “Yeah, she’s here.”
“Good.” Rachel hung up and turned and without thinking anything of the time or that there were sleeping people in the house, she called out, “Rory? Oh God, Rory?”
Rory and Maggie came out of their room. Rory was fully dressed and carrying her shoes in one hand and a
backpack in the other. “I’m here. I heard.” She set her things on the floor and went to Rachel and put her arms around her.
Rachel hugged her and sniffed back tears, but hastily pushed Rory away. “Are you awake enough to drive?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I got this. Go get dressed.” Rory lightly touched Rachel on the arm. Then as Rachel found her clothes and went into the bathroom to change, Rory sat on the couch and put on her shoes.
* * *
“You’re a bad influence on me.” Rory gave Rachel a grin and looked at her with a sideways glance, while keeping her eyes on the road.
It meant the world to Rachel that when Rory had heard the panic in her voice, she had gotten dressed and hastily packed her backpack full of clothes, just as she used to do for weekends at Maggie’s house. But this was no pleasure trip.
“What do you mean?” Rachel asked quietly, in no mood to play. She kept her hands in her lap and stared out the window.
“I mean the drunk thing. It’s been a little over a year since I’ve been that drunk. You were there.”
Rachel smiled. “I remember. You can’t blame me for that—you asked me to get you drunk.”
“Still, you were there, I’m blaming you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Man, your comeback game is weak.”
Rachel sighed. “You can’t joke me out of this, Morgan, but thank you for trying.”
“What are friends for? Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Or we can play really loud music and not talk.”
With a small smile, Rachel asked, “Are you always this annoying?”
“It’s one of my better qualities.”
After a moment, Rachel asked, “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”
“What did Chris say his injuries were?”
“A lot of blood loss, broken bones, he’s unconscious and they don’t know if…” She trailed off and swallowed.
“Well, I’m no expert, but I do know that broken bones heal. I’m sure he’ll be fine, given enough time.”
“But will he though? I mean, not everything can scab over so easily.”
“Yeah, I know. I wish I had something more positive to say right now.”
“It’s okay.” They fell into silence again. Rachel went back to looking out the window but she felt Rory keeping an eye on her.
After a time, Rachel said, with a slight chuckle, “You were right, you know? I love that sweet boy, dammit.”
Rory reached over and put her hand on Rachel’s knee. “I know, hon, I know.” Rachel clasped Rory’s hand tightly and they rode that way for the next several miles.
After a mostly quiet five-hour drive, Rory pulled up to the Prairieland Hospital, which was just west of campus. She followed a circuitous route to the visitors’ parking lot. The longer it took, the antsier Rachel became. She was about ready to jump out of the car.
“Hold on hon, almost there.” Once the car was stopped, Rachel jumped out, leaving the coat she had shed during the long drive behind. Rory grabbed it for her and jogged beside her to the hospital entrance. It took them a couple of minutes to follow the signs leading to the ICU.
When they finally reached their destination, Rachel immediately went up to Chris, who was seated next to a short blond woman, and he stood when she approached.
“Rachel, I’m sorry you had to cut your vacation short, but I’m glad you’re here.” He nodded to Rory, who returned the gesture, and he gave Rachel a hug.
Before now Rachel had not paid attention to how similar the brothers were in appearance. One look into those same brown eyes and she was almost undone. “No, it’s fine. That’s not important. I’m just glad you called. How is he? Can I see him?”
An older woman Rachel hadn’t noticed before stood up from a chair on the other side of the room. “And who are you?”
“Mom, this is Rachel, she’s Bobby’s girlfriend. Rachel, our mother.”
Very quietly, Rachel replied, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lay—uh, I’m just sorry it had to be this way.”
The woman drew in an indignant breath and said, “My name is Mrs. James.”
“Sorry.” Dismissing the woman, Rachel looked at Chris again. “Can I see him?”
“Yes, of cour—”
His mother cut him off. “Only family can see her.”
“Or we can give her permission, Mom. Bobby would want Rachel in there.”
“Absolutely not! I don’t know you from Adam. Why should I give you permission?”
“Ma’am, I love your son very much.” Rachel’s voice started to break and Rory put her hand on her back. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“Mom, it’s okay. I do know Rachel and she’s a good person. She really cares for Bobby. Besides, it’s not up to you who visits him.”
“What are you talking about? That’s my child in there, of course I have the right to say who gets to see her.”
Chris squared off in front of his mother with his hands on his hips and said evenly, “No, Mom, you don’t. After Bobby got jumped the last time, he drew up paperwork to make me his health care power of attorney. That means I get to make medical decisions for him, not you. And that includes who gets to see him.”
“That’s ridiculous. Emily is my daughter, not yours!” Mrs. James was crying now and wiping furiously at her eyes.
“Your son, Bobby, wanted me in charge because he knew I could keep my cool and do the right thing.” Chris softened his voice. “And I know how he feels about Rachel.” Chris glanced at Rachel, then back at his mother. “He loves her and she deserves to be by his side and I’m granting permission.”
“I know why she picked you. She picked you because you always let your baby sister get away with everything. You spoiled her. You indulged her every whim. And this Bobby business is no different. Fine, you both want to cut your mother out of your lives, then I don’t need to be here.” She turned to the quiet man who had been sitting next to her and who was currently looking uncomfortable yet not willing to intervene, and said, “Come, Howard, we’re going home.”
“But, Emma, don’t you think we should stay? He’s not awake yet. I’d like to be here when he wakes up.” He stood and tried to take his wife by the arm and guide her to her seat, but she pulled free.
“Don’t try and tell me what to do! I’m leaving, come along.”
Howard James stood his ground and said, “No, Emma. I’m staying. My youngest son needs me more than you do right now. Go on home if you want. I’ll see you there later.” With that, he resumed his seat.
Emma James looked from her husband, to her son, and then to Rachel and said, “I don’t believe this. I don’t believe this.” Shaking her head, she walked out, tears on her cheeks. When she left, it seemed as if a sour smell had been let out of the room.
Howard James stood and went to Rachel and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, dear. I’m sure my son would want to know you’re here. Would it be all right if I took you back there?” He held out his arm as if to escort her.
Rachel looked from him to Chris and Rory, both of whom nodded their heads. “Okay, thank you.” She put her arm in his and even though it was such an old-fashioned gesture, she was grateful for the support his arm offered.
They left the waiting room arm in arm and Howard led her to the right, down a longish hallway lined with other rooms occupied by the badly injured or sick and dying. All the rooms had large picture windows that looked out into the hallway with an equally large curtain that could be drawn for privacy. Rachel never understood why there was a large window in the first place. Who was that window for? The whole point of visiting was to be in the room, and she could already tell, even though she hadn’t seen him yet, that when it wasn’t her turn to be in the room, she wouldn’t want to sit in the hallway and look in on him lying there, banged up and helpless. She wouldn’t be able to bear it. She would need to get away, at least for a little while.
They stopped at the
fourth room down on the left and Howard put his hands on Rachel’s shoulders. He took a breath, and then he said, “My son is pretty banged up. He has several broken bones, his face is swollen and bruised, and there were internal injuries. He doesn’t look good right now but the doctors say he will heal—it’ll just take time. He’s still unconscious, but that’s really a good thing because maybe when he wakes up most of the pain will be gone.” His voice broke and he looked down for a moment, then said, “I just wanted you to know what you were walking into.”
Rachel couldn’t speak to say thank you, so she just nodded. Howard patted her on the shoulder and she took a deep breath.
“Would you like me to wait out here?”
“No, thank you. Could you ask Rory to though?”
“You mean that tall drink of water you walked in with?” He smiled.
Rachel gave him a weak grin in return. “Yeah.”
“I will.”
Rachel took another breath, then opened the sliding door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She stood at the foot of his bed for a moment, taking it in. The beeps and whooshes and whirs of the machinery keeping him alive were the only rhythm and the only sound to be heard in the room. The only sound in Rachel’s world. His leg was in traction, an arm was in a cast, his head partially bandaged. The part of his face that was visible was badly bruised and swollen. Black-and-blue was such a wrong way to describe it. It wasn’t even accurate. More like black and purple and red. She was frozen at the foot of his bed. She wanted to move forward but she couldn’t.
Then some movement on the bed caught her attention. The fingers on his unbroken hand twitched. She knew enough not to hope that it meant he was awake but it still reminded her that he was still in there. That got her moving. She stepped to his side and took his unbandaged fingers in her hand and leaned down and whispered in his ear, “There are better ways to get me to come home early, you big dork.” She tried to laugh but it got caught in her throat. “I love you, okay. Did you hear me? I love you and you need to wake up and say it back.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes and chuckled to herself. “That’s okay, I can wait. I’m not going anywhere. Well, I only have fifteen minutes with you, but I’m not leaving this hospital until you can leave with me. They’re going to have to drag me out. While I’m here, I should tell you what my vacation was like. Sweet Boy, let me tell you a story.”
