Over the Borderline

by Leanna Floyd

  Jacob flipped to a basketball game and turned the volume down. More and more, he kept hearing stories about the so-called Surfside Killer. It was sort of fascinating but also sad. He wasn’t sure why he was so interested in the details of the case. Maybe just a side effect of working the Barton trial. Yeah, that must be it. He poured another drink and slumped on the sofa. He didn’t know how much more of this business with Alicia he could stand. There were plenty of other women out there who wanted what he had. That little minx Emily at work, for one. He had slept with her to get the job, but she wasn’t half-bad in the sack. He closed his eyes.

  When he opened them, radiant sunlight sliced in through the vertical blinds. He sat up and almost spilled the rest of his whiskey, catching it and placing it on the table next to him. He grabbed his phone and saw it was after 9 A.M. Good thing he didn’t have to work. And then he noticed he had a text from Alicia, sent two hours ago: “Hey, Charlie is in children’s hospital—got sick during the night and I panicked and took him to ER. Not good. Something’s wrong but nobody will tell me. Just running lots of tests. So scared. Will call when I can.”

  Jacob could not believe the message he was reading. Charlie was in the hospital?

  What did she mean by “not good”? What wasn’t she telling him? Should he go down there to be with her and Charlie? Questions swarmed his mind like angry bees as he grabbed his phone and started texting.

  He texted back, “Alicia, so sorry about Charlie! Is he alright? What’s going on? Can u call me?”

  He waited an eternity of five minutes before he saw:

  Alicia: “Really now is not a good time to fill you in. I barely know what’s going on. All I know is that he’s not doing well. They just moved him into a private room. They are taking him down the hall for some testing. I’m so scared but trying to stay calm for him. Something scary is going on. He looks so small in that big hospital bed. He was crying for me to help him. I just don’t know what to do! Jacob, he’s my baby! I’m terrified he’s not going to be okay!”

  I’m getting careless and sloppy. Impulsive. She was just standing there, next to the picnic shelter, waiting for the rain to stop. At first, I thought she must have been a kid, maybe waiting on a parent or boyfriend. But once I parked and got out, I saw she was just petite, shorter than I like, drenched already in her tracksuit and just stopping to refuel with an energy bar. But when she looked up and saw me, when she smiled, she had that look in her eyes. That look like she had been waiting on me to come along and take her to paradise. No fear, only acceptance, even joy that the rain would finally be over.

  “Not many people come to the beach in the rain,” I said after we had introduced ourselves, and I’d smiled my shyest, sweetest smile.

  “I know,” she said, “but I like it. So clean and peaceful, everything washed and wiped away. I like to run in the rain.” Then she looked down at herself and said, “I must look a mess—a big, soggy, dripping mess.”

  “Actually, you look very beautiful,” I said. “I have a couple of towels in my car if you want to dry off, or I can even drive you to where you parked.”

  “No, that’s okay,” she said, and then when she saw me look hurt, “but thanks anyway. Very kind of you to offer.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly inspired to play it a different way. “I get so nervous when I’m around women as pretty as you—get all tongue-tied and don’t know what to say.”

  “Aww, that’s sweet,” she said, brushing wet locks of hair behind her ear. “My partner and I have been together for six years now. He’s probably expecting me now, so I better finish my run.”

  I looked around and noticed the rain had stopped.

  Not another soul around us.

  Her eyes followed my hands, but she didn’t say another word. And then she couldn’t say another word. There was nothing to say.

  Her skin felt cool and damp, like squeezing a wet sponge. So easy, so fragile and soft. I laid her out only a few feet away from the shelter, behind a clump of seaweed that had been gathered in a mound. I didn’t have a shell for her, and I was afraid to spend too much time looking for one. That’s when I noticed she wore a necklace, a little gold sand dollar on a delicate chain. I had already given a sand dollar to one of them—Wendy Jo, maybe? But it would have to do. I unclasped the chain from around her broken neck and wrapped it around her right hand, closing her palm around the tiny gold shell.

  She looked so beautiful.

  Chapter 25

  “Sweetie, I need you to take a deep breath and slow down. I’m here. I need you to tell me what’s wrong,” Jacob’s voice was strong but nurturing. He waited silently as he listened to Alicia’s heavy sobs and the sounds of her gasping for air.

  “He… he… has leukemia. They… they… said my baby has leukemia,” Alicia’s voice dissolved into wails and she began to moan.

  It was hard to believe so much had happened in a week’s time. Jacob’s heart ached as tears rolled down his cheeks. How could this be happening again? How could God, once again, allow an innocent child to suffer? What is going on? Wasn’t one child enough? Jacob’s head felt light and the things around him started to blur. He gripped the arms of the chair he was sitting in hoping to snap out of his fog and regain his composure. “Alicia, I am here. You are not alone in this. I will be here with you and Charlie every step of the way. Charlie’s a fighter. You have to try and be brave for Charlie,” he spoke slowly and methodically.

  In between her gaps for air she blurted out, “They-they-they want to start chemo-therapy as-soon as possible,” her moans howled through the receiver.

  Jacob was at a loss for words. He felt so far away and so helpless. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. Is there anyone there with you?”

  “Yes, my-parents-are-here,” she muttered in between taking shallow breaths.

  “Alicia, I need you to hand the phone over to your parents.”

  “But-but-the doctors just came in…I have to let you go.”

  “Okay, no problem. Please call me after you’ve had a chance to get some rest. I’m here for you.” Jacob found himself on his knees bargaining with God to save Charlie. “Please God, don’t do this to him just to make a point!” Jacob’s mind went into a tailspin. Images of the baby girl locked in her car seat were flashing through his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and forcefully pressed his hands over his ears hoping the images and the sound of the mother’s cries would go away. He was tortured by his past. This event alone had such a hold on him. God couldn’t take another innocent child-Charlie. He just couldn’t. Jacob wasn’t going to go down without a fight. He was angry and scared. His eyes and face were swollen from crying so hard. It wasn’t just about Charlie. Alicia was the first woman who accepted him for who he was. He had been so open and vulnerable with her, and she loved him in spite of his failures and shortcomings in life. He had to save them.

  Exhausted, Jacob sat on the couch aimlessly surfing through channels. He read back through his last text exchange with Alicia for the hundredth time hoping to find out more information on Charlie, and realized she hadn’t told him which hospital Charlie was in. She had said, “Children’s Hospital,” but when he searched online in greater Miami, he found almost a dozen children’s hospitals and pediatric clinics. He wanted to at least send Charlie some balloons or a toy or something to let the little boy know Jacob was thinking of him.

  Or maybe he would just drive down there and surprise them both. No matter how many family members she had, Alicia could probably use a break. It wasn’t the ideal way for them to finally meet, but it would show her how serious he was about investing in their relationship. He stared at his phone screen at the list of possible hospitals where Charlie might be and dialed the first one.

  “Dade County Pediatric Hospital, how may I direct your call?”

  Jacob said, “Hello, may I be connected to a patient’s room please? Charlie Gonzalez is his name—he was admitted yesterday, I believe.” He tried to sound like a concerned fa
mily member, which he was.

  He heard some clicking on the other end of the phone and then, “I’m sorry, can you please spell the patient’s first and last names?” Her tone was kind.

  “Sure, no problem,” he said and complied.

  More clicking and then, “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s no patient with that name in our hospital at present. Might it be under a different name? Are you sure he’s here at DCPH?”

  “Uh, I don’t know, maybe so. I spoke with his mother earlier this afternoon, and I thought she said your hospital. Is there another children’s hospital nearby?”

  “No, not nearby. But there’s Miami Peds Clinic not far from South Beach, and then there’s St. Mark’s Children’s Hospital and Mercy Baptist. I can get you those numbers if you like.”

  “Yes, please—that’s very kind of you. I really appreciate your help.”

  “Of course,” she said and began repeating the hospital names followed by their phone numbers. “I know how upsetting it is to have a little one in the hospital. Good luck.”

  Jacob quickly tried each of the three hospitals but not one of them had Charlie as a patient. Did Alicia’s son go by a different last name? No, Jacob remembered their discussing why Alicia had kept her ex’s last name even after they divorced. She didn’t want Charlie to feel disconnected from her or from his dad, even though the latter clearly wasn’t involved in his son’s life. Had Alicia notified him of Charlie’s condition? Was her ex there at the hospital—wherever it was—waiting with her by Charlie’s bedside? He felt his chest constrict as he squeezed his phone until he realized it might break. Jacob was the only man that should be there by Alicia’s side during this ordeal. And he would find them, one way or another.

  The obvious way, of course, was just to call or text Alicia. He hated to disturb her or Charlie but he had to know at least where they were. Texting seemed less intrusive so he wrote: “Hey, babe—what hospital is Charlie in? Want to send him something.”

  Minutes ticked by without a response so he went to the bathroom and started brushing his teeth. Flossing and trying not to take out his impatience on his gums, he heard his phone chime.

  Alicia: “This is A’s friend Veronica here. She’s asleep in the chair in C’s room. She’s exhausted, and she hasn’t slept much since Charlie’s been admitted. I know it must seem strange talking to someone that you’ve never met. She’s told me lots about you. We’re at Dade Co. Ped. Hosp.”

  Jacob: “Hey, Veronica. That’s really strange. I just called there but they have no patients listed with Charlie’s name. What’s up with that?”

  Veronica: “I’ll let A explain to you tomorrow. Long story.”

  Jacob: “WTF? Pls tell me now—either Charlie is there in DCPH or he’s not. What’s going on??? Would you wake her up please? I need to talk to her.”

  He knew he shouldn’t have lost his cool, but what the hell was going on? He hated to screw things up with Alicia or piss her off, but he had a right to know where she and Charlie were and what was going on. Minutes passed and he slammed his phone on the dresser in his bedroom as he hung up the suit he’d worn that day. His phone chimed.

  Veronica: “Still Veronica here—pls don’t make me wake up Alicia. Here’s the short version. Last year A was seeing guy named Victor. Was good until he hit her one night and she broke up with him, of course. Victor started stalking her and she got scared for Charlie. So, she started using an alias sometimes. When she admitted Charlie, she gave them my last name instead, Ortiz, and your first name. Call & ask for Jacob Ortiz’s room if u want.”

  Jacob: “WOW! Crazy shit. Thx for telling me. I’ll call back tomorrow. Or please ask her to call me when she wakes up—doesn’t matter what time it is. Ok?”

  Veronica: “Ok, will do. GN, Jacob. She likes you—a lot.”

  Jacob: “I like her a lot too. Thx, Veronica.”

  Veronica: “GN.”

  He sat there on the couch mentally and emotionally exhausted. What just happened? Why am I acting so crazy? Who am I becoming? He was disappointed in himself for acting so impulsively and texting Alicia for an answer. She had told him she was afraid of her ex finding Charlie and trying to take him away from her. Of course, she used an alias. Charlie was her EVERYTHING. He was too tired to go to bed. There was nothing he could do from 300 miles away. Jacob sat in the same spot replaying the conversation and passed out sitting upright.

  Chapter 26

  Jacob still had not asked Alicia why Charlie was not listed as a patient in any of the children’s hospitals in South Florida. They had only talked one other time since Charlie had been admitted, but she had texted a few times to let Jacob know about the boy’s progress. It had now been a full week since his hospitalization, and Jacob still had not been able to speak to Charlie directly. The good news, however, arrived that morning when Alicia texted to let him know that Charlie would be coming home that Saturday before starting chemo the following week.

  Jacob offered to pick them up, but Alicia ignored his message and thanked him for the remote-controlled model Lamborghini he had sent to her house. He still wondered why he needed her permission. Maybe he should just be the man and show up, letting his actions speak louder than his words. Then, he thought about the mountain of work DeMato had him buried in for the Barton trial. Maybe it was better if he waited until Alicia gave the green light. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for her to watch her baby suffer.

  Nonetheless, when he called on Sunday afternoon, his anger finally spilled over. “I just hate for you to suffer alone, babe. Why don’t I come down on Thursday for a long weekend? We can do whatever Charlie feels like doing. Or if you want a break and just want to sleep, I can take care of Charlie.”

  “That’s so kind of you, Jacob. It really is. But we’ve already got the next two weeks planned out with plenty of help from our family. My sister Jasmine has coordinated a schedule for people who want to bring meals or stop by for a visit while I shower, nap, or run errands. It’s all been taken care of. And since we really don’t know what Charlie is going to feel like during chemo—well, I hope you understand.”

  “Yeah, I guess I have to, don’t I?” he said sarcastically. “It’s all about what’s best for Charlie. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Really, Jacob? Yes—it is all about Charlie! You selfish asshole! Are you that selfish that you can’t pull yourself out of your own wants and needs to see what I’m going through? My little boy has cancer, for Christ’s sake! He’s wasting away before my very eyes! It takes every ounce of strength that I have just to get out of bed in the morning. I fake a smile of reassurance to Charlie every day hoping he doesn’t see the fear in my eyes. My mind is torturing me. I keep running through the worst-case scenarios and all the things I wish I had done differently with him. How I could’ve been a better mom. How I should’ve known something wasn’t right. How he’s counting on me to make things better.”

  “I’m sorry if—”

  “Look, Jacob, I’m barely holding it together, and you have the nerve to question me! I want to be very clear here, you are not my priority right now, and I just don’t have the time or energy to do this with you. If you can’t understand that he is the center of my world right now, then maybe you and I don’t need to try and stay in touch any more. I thought you were a patient guy, Jacob. I thought you were different; really, I did, but guess you’re just like all the other guys I’ve known.”

  Her words cut through him like walking on broken glass.

  Silence. He was afraid of what he might say so Jacob held his breath and then exhaled and inhaled as slowly as possible.

  “I gotta go,” she said. “Charlie needs me.”

  “Sure, I understand,” he said, unwilling to apologize even though he knew what she had said was true. He was having a hard time seeing Alicia put anyone else first—even her son who was suffering from cancer. “Goodbye, Alicia.”

  Chapter 27

  “Hey, you’ve reached Kevin, thanks for calling. Leave
me a message or text me if it’s urgent, and I’ll get back to you.”

  Brooke was uncertain about what to say and panicked, ending the call. She liked the way Kevin’s voice sounded authoritative, solid, self-confident, and, yes, sexy. They hadn’t talked in over a week, in part, because Kevin was away on assignment. He wouldn’t tell her where, and she wondered if he was just trying to create mystery or if his assignment really required such secretive measures.

  She had called just to see if Kevin would be willing to meet and role-play with her in case she had to offer expert testimony in the Barton case. And truth be told, Brooke missed him, the gentle sparring and electric attraction that seemed to be building between them. Maybe that’s why she had decided not to leave a message.

  Rising to stretch, she felt a chill and wondered when the campus maintenance would turn on the heat. Granted, they rarely needed it with such mild winters, but still, the old brick building housing most of her department’s offices always seemed damp and musty to her. Out her window, a pale lemon sun wrestled with a gang of pearl-colored clouds, and she debated on going to the vending machine in the corridor for a diet soda. Instead, she decided to refill her water bottle at the fountain down the hall.

  She heard her phone ringing and jumped, spilling water as she rushed to turn back toward her office. The thought that it could be Kevin calling her back made her run like a schoolgirl until she was back at her desk. Only when she looked at her phone, she saw ‘Caller Unknown’ and answered anyway, out of breath.

  “Hello, Brooke.” It was Dr. Gregory. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Is this a good time for you?”

  “Yes, of course,” Brooke said, genuinely pleased to hear her mentor’s voice. “Thanks for checking in. I know you’re tied up with the Surfside Killer case—how’s that going?” She closed her laptop and shoved the open file folders aside until she found a clean notepad—but no pen, which sent her digging in her purse for one.