Wrong Number

by Laura Brown

  This one I felt. Massachusetts lay behind me—my job and my boyfriend. My parents lay ahead. And here I was, in the middle, leaning toward my childhood and the state I never expected to leave.

  I tried Dad again. He answered and I cursed when I couldn’t understand him. I tried to tell him I would be there soon, but who knew if he could hear any better than I could. I disconnected, the highway sounds consuming me and filling me with this empty hole in my center. If only I had made out the tone of his voice to get an idea of what waited for me.

  I wanted to close my eyes and pray again, try and remember any Hebrew for a time like this, but I kept my eyes open and foot down. Especially when the only words that came to mind were the Mourner’s Kaddish. Not the words I wanted to say anytime soon.

  I remembered I had cookies in the oven when I left. I almost called Jake but stopped myself. They would have figured it out by now if something had burnt in the oven. I hoped the cookies hadn’t burnt. The bakery needed all the goods it could get with missing so many bakers.

  Jake. My heart ached. I wanted him here with me, to hold my hand, to soothe my fears, to hear my father. But he told me to go home. He never asked me whether where I considered home had changed.

  The familiar scenery of my childhood appeared. I saw things differently, through adult eyes, eyes that had been away. And I found myself coming back to the same old question. Where was home? Or rather, where was the home of my future?

  This ride was too damn long. I shifted in my seat and rolled my shoulders back. Time lost in thoughts when a family member could be dying wasn’t good. I needed to scream, to cry, to sleep.

  I drove.

  A half hour later I parked in the emergency room lot. My hands and legs trembled. I needed to jump out and run inside. Instead, I sat, unmoving. I had no idea what would greet me. Panic gripped me, near attack level, and it was all I could do to breathe.

  I reached for my phone and opened up a text to Jake.

  Me: Made it.

  I clicked send and tried once again to move. I couldn’t.

  Jake: How’s your mom?

  Me: Don’t know. In car.

  Jake: Go. She’ll be okay.

  Me: You don’t know that.

  I wanted to cry. But more than that, I wanted to cry on his shoulder, with his arms around me. I wanted him holding my hand and pulling me into the hospital.

  Jake: I don’t. Just like I don’t know if you’ll stay home.

  My gut clenched. Hell of a time for us to be sharing these thoughts.

  Me: Home. Home is a funny word, isn’t it? Is home where your heart is? Where you sleep? Where the most relatives live? A building? What exactly does home mean?

  Jake: Why are you stalling?

  I blew out a breath, glanced up at the building, wondered if any of those windows held my parents.

  Me: If it’s bad, then I have more minutes not knowing how bad it is.

  Jake: Home is wherever you want it to be.

  Me: That means even less.

  What I wanted was all my loved ones in one location so I didn’t have to choose. The one thing most definitely not an option.

  Me: I’m going in. Time to face the music.

  I closed my eyes and breathed deep, then got my ass moving.

  *

  I found my father in an empty room, shielded by a partially closed curtain. The bed was empty, my father had his head in his hands, and my heart slid down to my toes. I searched the room for any indication of what had happened but came up empty.

  I was too late.

  A tear rolled down my cheek and I stifled a sob. Dad looked up. His lips moved in what I assumed was my name. I couldn’t really tell, and then I was in his arms.

  I buried into his familiar cologne.

  “Is she…” I took a breath. “Is she…”

  He rubbed my back, soothing murmurs rumbling deep in his chest. I cried harder, grief, despair, the long day and longer ride, all taking its toll on me.

  “It’s okay, Avery.” He let me go. “They’re doing testing; so far everything’s been normal.”

  “Oh.” I staggered back a step. Swiped at my wet cheeks. Mom was okay. We didn’t know what was wrong, but I wasn’t too late. She lived. She was here to get the help she needed. It would be okay.

  I grabbed my phone.

  Me: Still doing testing. Don’t know what’s wrong yet.

  Jake: How is she?

  Me: Haven’t seen her yet.

  Noises echoed down the hall and I made out the screech of wheels. I shoved my phone away as the front of a hospital bed pushed in, my mother covered by white blankets.

  “Mom!” I ran over, throwing myself around her, halting her transfer back to her bed.

  One arm came around me and I relished her touch. “Oh, Avery. I didn’t mean to worry you. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

  “You had to be seen, Lois,” my father said.

  I let her go and the two nurses helped her transfer back to the ER bed. Once Mom was settled, she reached out for me. I grasped her hand.

  “I’ll be fine. Couldn’t ignore a little chest pain now, could I?”

  I nodded, fresh tears falling. She wiped them away.

  “I haven’t been here.”

  “No, you haven’t. You’ve been living your life as children are meant to do. I thought the bakery was short-staffed?”

  “We are.” I forced down the guilt of leaving. With so many of us gone, they couldn’t manage normal volume. But Jake and Hannah were right. I needed to be here.

  Mom settled into the bed. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have called you.”

  I had been so worried I’d arrive and find out I’d lost my mother. She wasn’t out of the woods. The testing continued, her ailment unresolved. If they hadn’t called and something went wrong, I could be missing this time right now.

  “No. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

  Mom’s eyes lit up. “You’re staying?”

  The hope on her face nearly killed me. Hope saved lives, and hers was in a precarious situation. Now wasn’t the time to lean on her for advice or guidance.

  I swallowed my inner turmoil. “Yes.”

  “What about that boy of yours?”

  I thought of Jake and a piece of my heart cracked. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Long-distance relationships are hard, Avery.”

  Wrong Number and Dick Guy managed, though they hadn’t realized they weren’t long distance at all. I didn’t want to be far away from Jake. I wanted my nights with him, and not just through the phone.

  Dad placed a hand on Mom’s shoulder. “You should rest.”

  She let out a sigh and tried to protest, but then a nurse came in to check on her. I stood back as they talked, not able to catch much and too caught up in my own thoughts to push through. I had made a decision. Under the wire and with a gun pressed to my head, but it had been made. I reached for my back pocket but didn’t take out my phone. I wouldn’t tell Jake. Not yet. Mom first.

  The rest…I didn’t know what the rest would be.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Jake

  My cell screen faded to black, covering Avery’s words. I told myself she was stressed because of her mom, but the text felt like one more final significant moment between us.

  Then again, stress had a hold on just about everyone.

  I took off my apron and tossed it in the laundry, leaving the teenage night worker out front. In back, things were quiet, only Hannah and Dad remained.

  He’d rolled up his sleeves and got right to work, shadowing Hannah to double her output. Tension thick and heavy hung in the air, the newest member of the bakery staff. But even with the tension, it cut down on the loss from Avery.

  “I’m new, but I can get the week off to come here and help.”

  Hannah stared at our father. “Won’t they fire you?”

  A sad smile crossed Dad’s face. “If they do, then they do. This is more important.”
/>   I shook my head. “Don’t create trouble.”

  “I’ve already created enough trouble for this family. Now I can help and keep the trouble to myself.”

  The bags under his eyes confirmed the story. If I had to guess, I’d say he had a lot of not so great tales to share. The really sad part? That made me feel better, eased some of the weight from my shoulders.

  Hannah untied her apron.

  “Fine. You’re hired for the week.” She faced me. “How’s Avery?”

  I felt my back pocket, where my phone lay silent. “She made it to the hospital. They’re still running tests.”

  Hannah studied my face. “You’re worried.”

  “Her mom might have had a heart attack.”

  “No, you’re worried she’s gone for good.”

  I opened my mouth, but I had nothing to say. The truth—I was worried. Worried a part of me would be gone forever.

  “You can go to her.”

  I laughed. “Right, because this bakery will just run with yet another person gone.”

  “We can—”

  I cut her off. “No. I’m here and I’m staying. That’s my job. That’s what I need to do. It’s only for a few more days anyway.”

  Not wanting to give her a chance to sway my good intentions, I grabbed my jacket and left. Let her handle Dad on her own.

  The night was dark and cool. A burst of wind blew my hair around, bringing threats of a storm. Or maybe that was my internal assessment of life in general. I headed home, dropped my keys on the side table by the door, and focused on the silence. The emptiness wrapped around me, when it was no different than any other night pre-Avery. We’d spent so much time together, I’d grown used to her presence, used to another person being here. There wasn’t even a pet fish to feed.

  In my room, her belongings remained. She had an overnight bag on the floor and hadn’t stopped back on her way to her mother. Her sweet smell lingered in the air, her panties on my floor, where I had discarded them this morning. All her belongings felt like they should be here. Only they were missing their owner.

  I sat on the bed, stretching out my bad leg, and opened up our text messages.

  Me: How’s your mom?

  I took off my shoes as I waited for a response, then lunged for my phone when it chimed.

  Avery: All tests normal. Discussing other options and potential discharge.

  Me: Discharge? Without a diagnosis?

  Avery: Yes.

  Me: But she’s not fine.

  Avery: I know. I mean, she’s acting fine, but that pain has got to be something.

  I scratched my cheek. Avery wouldn’t leave until things were solved. A selfish part of me wanted things to get solved ASAP so I could have her back. I nearly punched myself. I wanted to take her away from her own family.

  Pathetic, Ruben, beyond pathetic.

  Me: I know there’s nothing I can do, but let me know if there is.

  Avery: Thanks.

  I felt every single mile we were apart, and it was a strange sensation. She had felt so close when we first met, via text message. Granted, we were a lot closer than we were now, but how could that anonymous person be closer than one I knew in the flesh?

  Me: I miss you.

  More pathetic lines from Jake Ruben. I had grown too used to providing her comfort in person.

  Avery: I miss you too.

  Avery: How’s the bakery?

  Me: Good. You won’t believe who showed up to help.

  Avery: Please tell me Nell is still on vacation.

  Me: She’s on vacation. Dad showed up.

  Avery: Your father?

  Me: Turns out he’s a decent baker.

  Avery: And helping his family. Nice.

  Me: Family isn’t only blood.

  Avery: I know.

  You’re my family. It all became so clear. She’d been gone a few hours and I was a hopeless case. She was a part of me, like my mother and Hannah and, for better or worse, my father. She wasn’t temporary, wasn’t some flavor of the month or year. She was it. The one. Whatever you wanted to call it, the person who held my heart.

  And a nagging fear crawled up my spine, claiming she’d left for good. That my feelings weren’t matched and no matter what I felt, it wasn’t mutual. All I wanted was her in my bed for the rest of my life.

  Avery: Doctor’s here. We’ll chat later.

  She might be part of my family, but I doubted I was part of hers. My fault. I knew she was temporary from the start. I thought I could sway her, show her a different option.

  I was wrong.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Avery

  Me: Gallbladder.

  I leaned against the wall in the hallway, acknowledging the stress still humming in my veins. Mom’s heart was fine. It was her gallbladder. The doctor had been ready to send her home when I remembered our call, and her wondering about a gluten allergy. That led us to a gastroenterologist and more testing, this time leading to an answer.

  Relief poured off me, as it had for Mom and Dad. An answer. A non-life-threatening answer. My phone, however, was quiet. My hands hung at my sides as a group of people passed me in the hall. All I wanted to do was talk to Jake. Funny how dependent I had become on him, on all the Rubens. It felt so strange to be back here, even if I’d been spending my time in the emergency room rather than my parents’ house. I felt like a visitor, and not just in the hospital. More like a fish out of water chilling in a temporary bowl.

  And that analogy was too plain weird.

  My phone vibrated and I jumped and scrambled to see the screen.

  Jake: Is that good?

  I headed for the waiting room, finding it empty and quiet, exactly what I needed. Then I did a very un-Avery thing. I called him.

  “Avery?”

  “Yes, it’s me. It’s too much to type and I thought maybe I knew your voice well enough I could actually hear you.” Oh boy, who let the insecure rambler out? Yesterday, my tongue had been all over his body and today I acted like…well…like Wrong Number would have on a voice call.

  “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

  I melted into one of the chairs, not noticing whether they were hard or soft and not caring. “It’s nice to hear yours too.”

  The thought of curling up, with him on the phone, whispering sweet nothings since I wouldn’t understand anyways, came to mind. To let go and be wrapped in his comfort.

  “The gallbladder?”

  Right, the reason I called. “Turns out gallbladders aren’t something we really need, unlike the heart. Hers could have stones in it or something. They’re going to do surgery and remove it.”

  “That sounds extreme.”

  “Not according to the doctor. She can go back to her usual activities.” And eat gluten. Mom had started requesting food the minute the diagnosis came in. I would happily be baking for days.

  “That’s a relief. Tell your mom I’m glad everything will be okay.”

  The minute I did, and Mom knew I’d been in contact, she’d ask when I’d be leaving.

  “Don’t give her ideas.”

  “What ideas?”

  “She’s had me meeting someone at the bakery, falling in love, getting married, and never returning home since before I left.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?”

  I froze. I did meet someone, and he was the first person I wanted to talk to after the diagnosis. My stomach felt hollowed out and empty, though I couldn’t remember the last time I ate so perhaps that was the reason.

  “My plan was always to come home.” Funny how it felt like I was grasping onto some old notion, rather than being true to what I really wanted, since I had no clue what I did.

  “Mission accomplished I guess.” There was a bitterness to his voice that I didn’t think my ears were making up.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Is it so wrong if we fell in love?”

  My heart stopped. Dead stopped. At least I was in a hospital if my boyfrie
nd sent me into cardiac arrest. I opened my mouth but only squeaked.

  “It’s been two months,” I managed to whisper.

  “I said if.”

  “That’s the type of if that’s not hypothetical.” I clutched my shirt in the center of my chest. Had Jake confessed his own feelings?

  “All I’m saying is that yesterday, you were happy here and today, you aren’t?”

  “Today, I’m in the hospital with my mother.”

  “A place you got to in plenty of time. One state over is not the moon.”

  “Oh, and would you move? You’ve stayed in the same area your whole life. With your mother and your sister. The three of you are close. Would you pack up and leave them and the bakery?”

  “Understaffed? Hell no. But fully up and running, with someone like you on the team? Yeah, then I could leave. Question is would you leave the bakery?”

  “I can bake anywhere.”

  The words felt tangy on my tongue. They were the truth. I could bake anywhere. But Nell’s Place had become special to me, a place where I belonged.

  His harsh laughter came over the line. “Congratulations, Avery, you got exactly what you wanted, and managed to trample my heart in the process.”

  His heart was trampled? Mine had already been in shambles thanks to everything with my mom and now he throws this at me? “I never intended things to be like this.”

  “No, you started dating me with no rules or restrictions. Those only came into play when we discovered the texts.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. This was a sticky mess and no amount of cream or butter would fix it. “Then I guess it’s a good thing we got here when we did.”

  “I guess so.”

  We both stayed silent, only his breathing came through, and it probably matched mine. I couldn’t deal with this on top of everything.

  “I don’t want to fight,” Jake said.

  “Me neither.” I had to blink, my eyes blurring from moisture.

  More silence. The kind that signified an end. My heart ached, more than it had moments earlier. I didn’t know which tug or pull came from what. I only knew my mother needed me. She was why I had come in the first place.

  “I need to check on Mom.”