Saving Alyssa

by Loree Lough

  On the way to the parking lot, Troy said, “Well, I just about spent my limit, but we’re finished.” He checked his watch. “And in record time, too. I challenge any woman to furnish an entire house in less than two hours.” Now he patted his stomach. “Who knew going broke could work up such an appetite? I’m starving.”

  Noah laughed. “Tell you what. I’ll call Billie, give her a heads-up that I’m bringing a couple of pizzas home. And since you broke the bank in there, it’s my treat. We’ll consider it a housewarming gift.”

  “Make mine pepperoni and mushroom. And take it easy on the drive home, will ya? I’d hate to see you end up on the side of the road…”

  Born and bred in Chicago, Noah knew how to drive on snow-covered roads. Maryland’s sleet and freezing rain made him glad he lived and worked in the same place.

  “…because I’m in no mood to watch you chase frying pan lids and shower curtains down Route 100.”

  “You’re all heart, man. All heart.”

  Troy grinned. “If Billie’s okay staying with Alyssa after we eat, maybe I can talk you into dropping the stuff that’s in your truck over to my place.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Troy started to get into his car, then said over the roof, “You’re a pal, man. Really saved my bacon today.”

  Guy talk, Noah thought, for “thank you” and “friend.”

  “No problem,” he said, sliding behind the wheel. Like it or not, it seemed he had a pal. How long since that had happened? In college, he’d gone to the usual after-game parties, but stayed on the sidelines. At the office, he’d attended only mandatory social functions. And much to Jillian’s dismay, he’d flat-out refused to take part in block parties. Having friends had never been important to him. Getting ahead. Making a name for himself. Earning money. That’s what mattered.

  Money. Did he have enough cash for pizza? If not, he’d pretend he was Troy, and slap down some plastic. In the lot at Domino’s, he dialed Billie’s cell number, talking as he entered the shop.

  “How do you like your pizza?” he asked.

  “Anything but anchovies.”

  “Good. I’m bringing supper, so don’t cook.” He paused, covered the mouthpiece. “Two large pizzas,” he told the kid behind the counter. “One plain cheese. One with half everything, half pepperoni and mushroom.”

  “Except anchovies,” she said into his ear.

  “Except anchovies.”

  The kid wrote it up and stuck the order ticket on the pass-through counter. “Slow tonight,” he said. “Ten or fifteen minutes.”

  Noah handed him his credit card as Billie said, “Funny you had this idea. Alyssa was just saying it’s been ages since you guys had pizza. She’ll be happy.”

  “So she’s behaving?”

  “Like an angel. We had a ball. Shopping, baking, playing old maid…”

  She laughed, and so did he.

  “So what did you guys bake?”

  “Brownies. And chocolate chip cookies.”

  “That’s my Alyssa. She knows what I like. I’m guessing Troy should be there in five, ten minutes.”

  “I heard on the news that it’s sleeting, so take it easy…”

  “I’ll find a salt truck and follow it.”

  “…because we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  We? He liked the sound of that. It had been a pretty good day so far. In the span of a few hours, he’d made a pal and found out that Billie—

  Noah caught a glimpse of himself in the chrome exterior of the cash register. Crooked grin, slouching shoulders, half-closed eyes… The kid stacked two pizza boxes on the counter. “Sir? Is everything all right?”

  Embarrassed, and trying his best not to laugh at himself, Noah checked the labels: cheese; the works.

  “Yeah.” He paid and said thanks, then left the shop without a backward glance. “See you in a few,” he said to Billie, and hung up.

  Five minutes later, he was still chuckling to himself when traffic came to a halt. He checked his watch. Too early for the usual rush-hour gridlock.

  By his calculations, he was four, maybe five cars back from the accident, but because of the curve and slight incline, he couldn’t see if it was serious or not. Since they weren’t moving anyway, Noah turned off the pickup, grabbed the keys and jogged forward to get a better look. If it seemed as if it might take a while to get tow trucks in place, he’d give Billie a heads-up; those pizzas were getting colder by the minute, and she’d need to rustle up something else for Alyssa and Troy’s supper.

  As he rounded the corner, Noah realized it wasn’t one accident, but several.

  An elderly woman, her beaded purse hanging from her wrist, wandered, as if she’d been rudely shaken awake from a dream.

  A little girl no older than Alyssa sat on the pavement, wide-eyed and silent, a trickle of blood oozing from her left eyebrow.

  No sign of ambulances or police cars, he noticed, so he withdrew his phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  Crouching, he placed a hand on the child’s shoulder. “Where’s your mommy or daddy?” he asked. And she pointed three cars up, at the maroon minivan that lay smoking on its side.

  “9-1-1,” said a man’s deep voice. “What is your emergency?”

  “I’m on Route 100,” Noah said, tucking the little girl’s hair behind her ear. “There’s been a multivehicle accident. Four, maybe five of them. People are hurt. I can’t tell yet how bad.”

  “Where on Route 100, sir?”

  Cars on the other side of the highway were slowing, and all he could think was Knock it off, you idiots, before you end up in the same kind of mess! Noah tried to remember the last exit sign he’d seen. “Long Gate Parkway, I think. We’re on the westbound side.”

  “Emergency personnel is on the way. Stay on the line with me, sir. Can you tell me what you see?”

  “Stay right here,” Noah told the little girl, “while I check on your family, okay?”

  Lower lip quivering, she nodded as he stood up.

  The blacktop was slick, and he took care with every step. As he walked, windshield glass crunched under his boots. “There’s smoke coming from this minivan,” he told the dispatcher, “and everyone inside seems to be unconscious. Two adults, one child. And there’s blood. Lots of blood.”

  He looked beyond the van, tried to figure out what had caused it to end up on its side. “Two more cars, I think,” he said, as the woman in the first one moaned. “Help is on the way,” he told her, then described her condition to the operator: older model car; steering column pressed tight against her ribs; front seat shoved into the back. “She’s shaking. Guess she’s in shock.”

  “Don’t try to move her, sir. Medics are en route.”

  Yeah, yeah, but how did he help these people in the meantime!

  Noah took off his jacket and gently draped it over the woman. His dad had always carried a handkerchief in his right rear pocket, and since leaving Chicago, Noah had, too. He blotted her bloody lip with it, then kept moving.

  “People are getting out of their cars. Wandering around. Not the ones involved in this mess. Just other drivers.”

  “Yes, sir. I can hear them. We’re getting other calls about this incident now. You’re doing great. What else are you seeing?”

  “Two more cars,” Noah said. “A pickup truck. And a jackknifed 18-wheeler. Nothing in front of it.” He took a deep breath.

  “Smoke’s coming from the semi, too,” he added. “Don’t see the driver…he’s too high up in the—”

  And then he saw Troy’s car.

  Noah relayed the information to the dispatcher: the car sideways…and upside down in the lane. Dashboard shattered. Driver’s door caved in. Troy dangled from the seat belt, like a marionette without a puppeteer. The airbag had deployed—fat lot of good that had done him.

  “Can you check for a pulse for me, sir?”

  Dark smoke stung Noah’s eyes and he squinted, looking for the source of it. He placed two fingers o
n Troy’s throat and held his breath. A faint flutter. “Yeah, he’s alive. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.” And then the choking smoke started a coughing jag.

  “Sir? Stay with me, sir. Tell me what you see….”

  “Smoke. A lot of it.” And then Noah saw tiny flickers of yellow and orange leaping up between the gnarled metal of the floorboard.

  “I see the fire now. It’s rolling under the front seat…down the sides…. If I don’t get him out of there—”

  “No. Sir. Do not touch him, do you understand? Wait for the EMTs. They’re in transi—”

  “Wait? No way. I know this man!”

  The wind kicked up, blowing a blast of hot air that hit him square in the face. Stinging sparks pecked his skin. He’d heard the warnings and understood the dispatcher’s no-nonsense order: let the pros handle the rescue; amateurs do more harm than good.

  Well, the pros weren’t here. He was.

  Sirens. Finally! But a long way off. By the time the ambulances, cop cars and fire trucks made their way through the snarl of vehicles, Troy could be dead. How would Noah live with himself if he stood here like some simpering idiot and let that happen? He had to get Troy out of there, because every instinct told him the car would explode. Soon.

  “I’m going to put my phone into my pocket,” he said, “but I’ll leave it on.”

  Ignoring the dispatcher’s protests, he grabbed the door handle, drawing his arm back when it burned his palm. He looked for the source of the heat, and seeing none, decided it wasn’t as important as getting Billie’s brother out of there.

  Noah didn’t even want to think about how losing Troy would impact Billie, and their mother, who so lovingly fussed over her kids. He thought of his own little girl, who’d already lost her mother. What would become of her if, while helping Troy, something happened to him?

  Noah shook off the ugly, terrifying thought and focused instead on what could go wrong if he disobeyed the operator’s order. He could unintentionally snap Troy’s neck while pulling him free. Dislocate a shoulder. Break an arm or a leg. Windy as it was, the fire might double or triple in intensity, and kill them both.

  Then he saw the flames licking at Troy’s pant legs. It was now or never.

  Noah filled both hands with Troy’s shirt and pulled. Pulled with all his might as the image of Alyssa flared in his mind. She doesn’t have a mom, he reminded himself. Are you willing to take the chance she’ll lose you, too?

  For an instant, he froze. Considered letting go. He’d made a will. Named Max legal guardian if—

  Troy uttered a ragged whimper as his head lolled from left to right. Noah had no way of knowing what sort of damage the impact had caused. Broken ribs, sternum, pelvis…spine… Based on the condition of Troy’s car, from the spiderweb-shattered windshield to the concave dashboard, it was likely his friend had suffered a head injury, too.

  In one second, Noah heard the car’s metal groaning like a wounded bear. In the next, a deafening explosion blinded him. Threw him backward. The hard landing forced the breath from his lungs. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. And the pain…the pain was so extreme that he couldn’t think straight.

  Noah had never been much of a praying man. But he prayed now…that when Billie came to terms with losing her brother, she’d help Max take care of Alyssa.

  Sorry, cupcake, he thought as tears stung a cut on his cheek. I’m so, so sorry….

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Troy and Noah should have arrived more than an hour ago, and neither had called to explain where they were.

  She hadn’t told Alyssa her dad was bringing pizza, so she wasn’t disappointed when Billie served up the fish sticks and mac and cheese she’d found in Noah’s kitchen.

  “Aren’t you eating, Billie?”

  She forced a brightness into her voice that she didn’t feel. “I snacked a little, fixing your supper,” she fibbed. “Maybe I’ll grab something later.”

  “After Daddy and Troy get back?”

  “That’s right.”

  “They must be buying everything in the whole entire store.” The little girl dipped a fish stick into the puddle of ketchup on her plate. “Bet he’ll be in a bad mood when he gets home. Daddy hates shopping.”

  “I’m not crazy about it, either.” Why didn’t one of them call?

  Noah’s house phone rang, startling her.

  “Billie, this is Max. I’m a, uh, a friend of Noah’s.”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  “Where’s Alyssa?”

  “Right here. Eating supper.” Billie frowned, wondering what business it was of hers.

  “Take the phone into the other room. I don’t want her to see your face when I tell you why I called.”

  The woman’s take-charge voice riled Billie and rattled her at the same time. Yet, like an obedient child, she followed instructions.

  “There’s been an accident,” Max said, “and it’s bad.”

  A tremor passed through Billie, from the soles of her feet to her scalp. She sat on the arm of the sofa.

  “How bad?”

  “Your brother and Noah were medevaced to Cowley.”

  The R Adams Cowley Shock Trauma Center at the University of Maryland’s medical facility?

  “But…but they drove separately to the mall….”

  “I don’t have all the details yet. Multicar pileup on Route 100. Tractor trailer jackknifed and started a chain reaction. No word yet why, but they’re blaming the weather. In your shoes, I’d be wondering why they called me.”

  Maybe later, Billie thought, when the news sank in. At the moment, it was all she could do to accept the facts as she knew them.

  “They called me,” Max continued, “because I’m the closest thing to family Noah has. He keeps my contact info in his wallet. The cop I talked to said he kept muttering something about Troy, so I put two and two together and came up with you.”

  The phone trembled in Billie’s hand. “Will they be okay?”

  “I’ve made a few calls, but it’ll be a while before the first responders file reports. Soon as I hear back from my contact at the shock trauma center, you’ll be the first person I call.”

  Max paused, and Billie heard the steady click-click-click of a turn signal.

  “You’re phoning from the road? Are you on your way down there?”

  “No, I’m on my way to you. I’m going to stay with Alyssa while you go down there.” There was another pause before she said, “Noah keeps instructions in his wallet, so the docs don’t need next of kin signatures. But your brother—”

  “You mean…you mean they think Troy and Noah might…” Billie couldn’t say it. Wouldn’t say it!

  “It’s too early to know anything yet, except that they’re both critical. Now listen, Billie. You need to pull yourself together. You’ve spent enough time around Alyssa to know she’s supersensitive to people’s moods. Walk back into that kitchen sounding like you do now, and nothing you say will be a comfort. No point scaring her until we know what’s what.”

  “Good advice. She’s already been through so much.”

  “Exactly. I’m parking out back right now. I know where Noah hides the key, so head straight for the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face.”

  Max hung up, and Billie’s brain went into overdrive. She’d need to find her GPS if she hoped to locate the hospital without getting lost. And break into her emergency stash of cash for the parking garage. Grab a handful of change for the vending machines, because she intended to stay until she had definitive news for her parents. For Alyssa, too.

  Billie reentered the kitchen, resolved to behave as if the little girl’s world—and her own—wasn’t spinning out of control.

  “Was that Daddy on the phone?”

  “No,” she said on her way to the bathroom, making sure Alyssa couldn’t see her face, “it was Max, calling to see if it was okay to stop by.”

  Billie heard Alyssa’s exuberant “Cool!” through
the bathroom door.

  No need to splash water on her face, because she hadn’t cried.

  Yet.

  But Max was right—she did need to gather her wits, not only for Alyssa, but for Troy and Noah, too. The last thing they needed was to see fear in her eyes. Besides, unless she wanted to end up in there with them, she’d need to focus on maneuvering the icy roads safely.

  She sat on the edge of the tub and looked at the pale blue walls, lavender towels, pink contour rug and colorful butterfly-infused shower curtain. The apartment offered all the comforts in a compact nine-hundred-square-foot space. Noah had let Alyssa decorate their only bathroom. He was a good man. A good dad. He had to be all right…for Alyssa’s sake.

  Tears stung Billie’s eyes and a sob ached in her throat. He had to be all right for her sake, too. Why had it taken this to make her admit how much he meant to her?

  On her feet now, she returned to the kitchen to find Max with Alyssa.

  “Where are you going?” Alyssa asked when Billie slipped into her coat.

  “I…well…a friend of mine is in the hospital, so I’m going to pay him a quick visit.”

  Max nodded, as if to say, “Good answer.”

  “I cleared my schedule,” she stated calmly, “so I can stay with Alyssa until…”

  Billie understood why Max had stopped talking so suddenly. She couldn’t very well say “until Noah gets home” because not even the doctors knew when—or if—that might happen. And because Billie didn’t trust herself to speak, she grabbed her purse and waved a silent goodbye.

  The drive from Ellicott City to the shock trauma center wasn’t nearly as treacherous as she’d expected, yet when Billie arrived, her hands were shaking and she had the hiccups. The guard at the E.R. entrance walked her to the information desk, and before he left her there, said, “Nobody comes in here for fun. Just remember that and you’ll calm right down.”

  Not likely, Billie thought, but she thanked him and punched the elevator button.