by King, Asha
Tash could fix this. Hopefully.
She grabbed her phone and dialed her friend, who answered on the second ring.
“He was here and I didn’t tell him and now he’s gone so we can take a break and figure things out and I don’t know what to do.” Dani sucked in a deep breath.
“If you use run-on sentences like that in your book, your editor’s going to kill you.”
Dani slumped down on the end of the couch. “Not if they’re used for comedic effect. Seriously, I don’t know what to do. And I can’t ask Twitter or he’ll really be mad, so I’m without hive-mind decision making power.”
The background noise ceased, probably Tash hitting mute on her TV, and her voice was much more at attention when she spoke next. “Okay, his issue is that he thinks you don’t take the relationship seriously, right? That it’s temporary for you?”
“Yeah—”
“Telling him about the baby is pretty much a huge sign that it’s not. Really, Dani. An open conversation with no theatrics, stating your commitment, is what you need to do. And if he can’t accept that, then the ball is firmly in his court, and there’s nothing more you can do. But you need to tell him.”
She was right. Stupid Tash. “Okay. Okay. No theatrics. I can do that.”
“And maybe make arrangements to get the giant moose out of his place.”
“That was a little bit funny.”
“I’m sure he’ll laugh one day when he tells your kids about it.”
She got a warm, happy feeling at the thought. Their kids. Their family. Even seeing the pregnancy test and the doctor, part of it never felt really real, but it slammed home again: she was going to be a mom. And if things worked out, he’d be a dad. There was nothing—not her book deal, not blog hits, not anything else in the world—that she wanted more.
She wanted Adam.
“Dani?” Tash prompted.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’m going. This is me being gone.”
“Good luck! Text me later, no matter what time it is.”
“I thought maybe I’d leave my phone so I’m not tempted to tweet. And show I’m being adult about it.”
“Good plan. Now go!”
“Will do. Thanks, honey.” Dani hung up and clutched her phone for a moment, staring at it. Her heart beat hard, nervousness running through her. Grownup conversations were not her forte. Even when she moved to Stirling Falls a few weeks after leaving and decided to reveal that fact to Adam, she hadn’t done it like a normal person; she posted a YouTube video hoping he’d be watching it live and instructed him to go to the front door. It had seemed wild and romantic at the time, but it was also watched by hundreds of thousands of people who, while they didn’t know precisely who the “Hot Cowboy” was, at least knew far more about her personal business than perhaps they ought to have.
Like Tash said, no theatrics this time.
Well, she was always on board for trying something new, even if it was scary. This should be no different.
She set the phone down on the coffee table and ran across the room to slip on her winter boots and coat. Though she tossed her long purple scarf around her neck, she let it drag, skipped her gloves, grabbed her keys, and flew out the door.
Stirling Falls tended to close down early even in the summer months; deep in winter, shops closed by six, people headed home, and the streets were fairly dead. Dani stepped out into the silence, keys swinging from her index finger, cold immediately icing the exposed skin of her face. Snow continued to fall, piling up on the sidewalk despite being shoveled earlier that day. Thick chunks of salt crunched underfoot and she was thankful at least they were in the snowy portion of winter and not the secretly icy one. A fall would be very bad.
“Hey, you got a light?” someone called behind her.
She glanced briefly over her shoulder—some kid she didn’t know. “Nope, sorry!” Seriously, the number of people who asked on any given day if she had a lighter was ridiculous, but she’d long ago stopped snarkily asking if they had one in return, since it usually got her called a number of nasty names.
Dani left the bright lights in front of the old apartment building and headed left for the parking lot. Two streetlamps spilled orange over the snow-covered cars and she swiftly ran over gravel toward her small blue Toyota parked in the spot labeled 2-F. Her keys jangled loudly and she lifted them to fumble with rapidly-numbing fingers for the large car one.
Steps behind her, nearer than they had any business being, caught her attention and she turned around sharply. Dani clutched her keys tight and took a step back at the sight of the white kid in his late teens who had called out to her earlier.
“You sure you don’t have a light?” he asked in a casual voice.
Dani’s gaze moved to the second figure behind him, wariness turning to panic.
****
A pounding on his bedroom door startled Adam awake.
For a moment, he blinked in confusion at his unfamiliar surroundings, then struggled to sit up with a tension headache throbbing and pain shooting up his back from sleeping in a different bed. The room took shape—it was one of Gus’s guest rooms. Right. Because he didn’t want to stare at a giant moose while he tossed and turned.
The winter glow brought by blankets of snow on the ground outside gave the room a peculiar look, sliced in half as the bedroom door opened and spilled hall light through the space.
Adam rubbed at his eyes until he could make out the shadowed figure. “What...?”
“Get dressed,” Dewey said, panic lacing his voice.
Adam sat up a little straighter, glancing at the bedside clock to see it was four-thirty in the morning, then back at his friend. “Why?”
“We’re going to the hospital.” Dewey turned his head away and started to back up.
Even as part of him, somewhere, knew, he still asked—praying he wouldn’t hear what he feared was coming. “What happened?”
“It’s Dani. Hurry up.”
****
After doing double the local speed limit, side-swiping a fence, and nearly hitting a barn, Adam pulled the truck into the hospital parking lot. The keys were still swinging in the ignition and vehicle was jerking to a stop when he climbed out and slammed the door behind him.
Just let her be okay. We can work out anything, as long as she’s okay.
Stirling Falls Memorial Hospital was silent at that hour, only a handful of cars in the lot—one police cruiser and the rest likely staff. Natasha Whitaker stood waiting for him just outside the hospital doors, bundled up in a quilted black jacket and pink hat.
“Hey,” she said as he jogged up, pulling open the door immediately. “Glad you’re—”
“Is she okay?” He stepped inside with her, not waiting for Gus, Dewey, or Carlee to catch up—they were still exiting the truck by the sounds of it.
“Yeah.” Tash walked swiftly at his side, her boots clicking on the tile floor in a rush. “Neighbor found her in the parking lot a few hours ago. She was mugged, but she’s fine—just banged up.”
Just banged up. Right. Adam’s steps slowed at last as he realized he had no idea where he was going; Tash took over, leading him to the right, past the ER waiting room.
“She lost consciousness for a few seconds,” Tash continued. “Presumably, at least—she has quite the head wound and was disoriented when they brought her in, which says loss of consciousness. Her memory’s missing a chunk of time and she has a concussion.”
He swallowed a lump in his throat, his chest constricting like he couldn’t breathe. “Is there a reason you were called and not me, or at least Gus?” He would hope that regardless of their discussion earlier, she’d at least list him as her emergency contact.
“Yeah—they didn’t know who to call because she was missing her wallet, didn’t have her phone on her, and was so confused. Triage skipped that whole part of the process, then she got held up talking to the police. One of the cops knows that she’s friends with me, so gave me a ring.” She wav
ed at the nurse at the desk and kept on walking, so Adam did as well. “And I called Gus.”
The hospital’s smells were a contrasting mix of stale air and antiseptic. He’d been by the odd time over the years, like when Gus had a mild heart attack a year ago last fall or to take Dewey when he broke his wrist one time, but otherwise avoided the place at all costs. He still remembered having to come and identify his sister’s body, bloated and damaged from being left in the creek for two days, and associated the whole damn place with that horrible day. But he thrust aside the memories the scents triggered and focused on following Tash past rows of empty beds to the curtained off area at the back.
He steeled himself for when Tash stopped at the green curtain and pulled it back. It hummed and squeaked on the runner set into the ceiling and fell back to reveal a hospital bed with Dani on it.
His feet stopped working at the foot of the bed, making him pause abruptly. The bed was in a sitting position and she still had on the clothes he’d see her in last. A white bandage on her temple was bright against her skin and hair, stark and scary all at once. An ugly bruise ran under her right eye, along with a couple of scrapes.
Her eyes settled on his and a weak smile pulled at the corners of her lips. “Hey.”
Adam let out a shuddering breath and at last moved for her bedside. An empty chair was pulled up to her right side—probably where Tash had been sitting, but she stood aside and he took the seat instead. He lifted Dani’s hand gently, the various scrapes across her knuckles drawing his attention.
“They said I put a fight,” she said in a slow, rough voice.
He glanced back to her eyes. “You don’t remember?”
“Not really.” She winced and her eyes were half-glazed. “I lost a bit of time. I remember talking to the police a few minutes ago...” She glanced over Adam’s shoulder at where Tash stood.
“You were actually walking and talking okay before that, honey,” Tash said. “But a brain shaking will make it a bit confusing. You’ve lost a few hours.”
“Right...” Dani nodded slowly. “I think...they took my money.”
“And your car,” Tash said.
Dani glanced up, her eyes widening. “They did? Those fuckers.”
Adam struggled to put the timeline together—she had been in her parking lot a few hours ago, then? After he left. So he’d just missed whoever did it—if he’d stayed a bit longer, or if he hadn’t shown up at all, or...
God, what if it was his fault?
He started to tighten his grip on her hand but ceased, afraid of hurting her. Instead his thumb drew soothing circles over her palm and he tried to resist just reaching for her and never letting go. “So you were in the parking lot? Where were you going at that hour?”
“I...” She seemed to search, either her memory or just for words, he didn’t know. “I was going to see...” Then her lips parted and head shot up. “Where’s the doctor?” Her gaze went straight for Natasha. “Has the doctor said—”
“Let me go find him.” Tash swiftly left the bed area and her steps faded toward the other end of the room.
Dani leaned back and turned her gaze toward the ceiling, her chest rising and falling with deep, swift breaths. When tears edged her eyes, Adam’s panic rose.
“Dani, what’s wrong?” he whispered. “Does your head hurt again? Is something else—”
She shook her head and swiped at her eyes with her free hand. Though her lips parted to speak, intruding steps stole her attention, and Natasha returned with a short, older man in scrubs. She wiggled her fingers from his grasp. “You have to go.”
“Dani...”
“Now. I’ll see you after, you just have to go.”
A weight seemed to keep him in place, like he couldn’t obey her request even if he wanted to. But Tash gently grasped his arm and tugged, and eventually he rose and found his feet moving again.
Dani still wouldn’t meet his eyes, even as he took his last glimpse of her before being pulled out of sight completely.
Chapter Six
Dani woke Christmas Eve day—late afternoon, she realized with a yawn as she glanced at the bedside clock. Her constant headache had eased at last, and the sleep had helped refresh her.
After remaining at the hospital for observation and speaking to the police once more, she had been released the following evening—last night. Now she arched her back and stretched her arms, more than happy to finally be home and in her own bed and without everyone watching her. She’d appreciated that people cared but being under constant observation got old quick, which was somewhat ironic considering her job.
She blinked up at her ceiling. Snow continued to tap softly, soothingly, and she focused on that rather than the sound of traffic outside. Her stomach growled just as her bladder screamed, and she couldn’t decide between eating or peeing. Either way, she’d have to get out of bed.
As she inhaled deeply through her nose, she firmly went in the direction of eating; the distinct scent of coffee with an undertone of bacon was in the air. The cliché of bad hospital food was true beyond her worst nightmare and Tash could only sneak in so many bags from Tim Hortons before the jig was up. Real food would definitely—
Wait, why do I smell food and coffee?
Dani sat up slowly and rubbed sleep from her eyes. The apartment was silent—no sound of a TV, but food smells definitely indicated someone was there.
Unless I have brain damage. That’s possible. Wouldn’t I smell burnt toast, though?
She drew back the sheets and comforter, and swung her legs around the edge of the mattress. After a moment of fumbling, her feet slid into her slippers, and she rose shakily. She was no longer disoriented, but so much sleeping and resting had her feeling a bit weak. Her Tweety Bird pajama bottoms dragged under her heels and despite the fact that the matching shirt was warm, she grabbed her terrycloth robe from the hook on the bedroom door and slipped it on.
Holding the doorframe, she peered out the bedroom door, looking right down the hall toward the front door and living room. The lights were on but she couldn’t see past the arm of the couch and didn’t hear anyone.
A step forward and the floor creaked. Shadows moved on the ground in front of the doorway to the kitchen and Adam looked out.
In addition to the hospital staff and Tash, he’d hovered silently, his concern apparent as was the fact that he was trying not to be a mother hen about it. But even when she told him to just go home and get some sleep, a nurse informed her later he was sleeping out in the waiting room. It shouldn’t have surprised her now that of course he didn’t leave her home alone, but she still hadn’t expected him.
“You’re awake.” He looked exhausted, from the circles ringing his eyes to his rumpled T-shirt.
“Yeah...” Tension rose and she tried to swallow it back, but failed. She remembered he’d driven her home in silence while Tash followed in her car, and both sort-of-boyfriend and best friend remained by her side while she got settled at home, took a bath, and went back to bed. She didn’t remember either of them leaving, but... “Where’s Tash?”
“Home. She checked in a few times but you were still asleep.” He gestured over his shoulder. “I made breakfast.”
“Good timing.”
He smiled wryly. “Not really. This is the third breakfast I made—I ate the first after an hour, then I called Tash and gave her the second.”
She found herself grinning. Goddamn, Mr. Tough Cowboy could be sweet. “Third time’s the charm?”
“Apparently. It’s still hot and the coffee’s fresh.”
Her bladder interrupted food thoughts, however. She clutched her lower abdomen. “Okay, I’m just going to hit the bathroom before I explode, and I’ll be right out.” She started down the hall toward the bathroom at the very end.
“I’ll take it to your room so you can eat in bed.”
“Be careful or I might decide to keep you.” The words slipped out easily and she nearly halted when she realized it. Damn it,
she didn’t want him getting weirded out. Maybe he’d think she was being presumptuous. Maybe he was just here being guilty.
Or maybe I need to stop second guessing myself and just pee already.
Dani sighed, shook her head, and continued for the bathroom. This was what happened when she didn’t have her blog followers to talk to—she over-thought everything and made herself insane.
Still, Adam was here. That had to be a good sign.
****
Adam brought her breakfast in bed, which just delighted her to no end, then Tash called to check in. They hadn’t found her car yet but they put a stop on her cards before her accounts could be cleaned out, and Tash said she wasn’t the only one in town it had happened to in the past few months. Adam called Gus afterward, and she was able to reassure him as well that she was okay.
Afterward, she decided she was sick of lying in bed and was more than rested enough. She changed in the privacy of her room as the winter night fell early, slipping into yoga pants and a T-shirt, and winding her hair into a clip. Gus’s party was that night, which she definitely wasn’t up for, but Adam hadn’t indicated any intention of leaving her. Truthfully, she was grateful she wasn’t spending Christmas Eve alone.
Dani eased open her bedroom door and shuffled forward in her slippers, around the corner toward the living room.
The lights grew brighter, and as she left the hall, she understood why: everything—sans the moose—she’d put in his apartment was now in hers. The lights, the random garland, and even the decorated palm tree with some presents beneath it.
“Merry Christmas.”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Adam behind her. He had two mugs in hand and the inviting scent of hot chocolate drifted up. She accepted one drink and smiled, then led the way into the living room.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” she said as she eased back onto the couch and looked around the room again. She took a sip of her drink and then set it on the coffee table.
