by S. E. Rose
“Well, you have me beat then,” I say, trying to force a smile. “I was only unconscious for a few days.”
“There’s something else I think you need to know,” she murmurs, looking away from me as though she is embarrassed or uncomfortable. “Oliver…he’s my husband.”
Time stops and I sit staring at her trying to process what she has just said. Did I hear her right? How hard did I hit my head? Am I being delusional? I see her look at me and she repeats herself.
“I just have seen you two together and I don’t want it to be awkward. I really like you, Laura, and I can see us being friends and all. Oliver and I, well, that was a long time ago. I’d honestly love to see him happy and settled, but…well, he’s a busy man.” She looks toward a small TV in the corner of the room.
“Oliver is your husband,” I restate. “As in, you are currently married to Oliver?”
“Well, yes, technically, yes,” she says softly, looking down at her hands. “We just haven’t gotten around to the divorce paperwork. Things happened. Life’s been busy.”
I try to process this again. She is married to Oliver. They haven’t found time in over a decade to finalize their divorce. Seriously, who can’t find the time to do that? She’s watching me closely now. “Well, I had a lot of therapy after the accident. We split up soon after and I stayed with my mum and dad and he kept Rose, while I got better. And then there was just too much pain and I couldn’t be around him or Jack and I just never came home.”
“Jack?” I am stopped by the sound of his name.
“Jack’s fiancée, Abigail, Abby, she was my friend that…” She looks at me. “I should not have let her drive. It should have been me. I had too much to drink. She seemed fine. She had said she was just getting over a stomach virus, so she hadn’t drunk much that night, only a sip. On the way home, she lost control of the car. It was ruled an accident. Jack has told me it wasn’t my fault so many times. And I know that, but it’s still hard.”
I’m speechless and I just sit staring wide-eyed at Mal. How did I land in the middle of this real-life soap opera? My attention is suddenly turned toward a commotion in the hallway and then Oliver is standing at the door. He looks from Mal to me and then back to Mal before he enters the room, making his way to the opposite side of the bed from Mal.
“Jesus, Laura.” He winces as he looks at my head.
“Yeah, I think the rock won.” I smile up at him meekly.
“I should say so. Have you been to X-ray yet?”
“Yep, just waiting for the doctor to look at them and then determine if I need a scan on my head.” I look from him to Mal and the tension is so thick I would need a machete to slice it.
“Sorry, I didn’t get your call earlier,” he whispers as though hoping Mal can’t hear him.
“It’s OK,” I say. “Mal has been great.” I give her a big smile and she smiles back at me before turning to Oliver, her smile fading immediately.
“OK, so this is awkward.” I look at both of them. “I’m really sorry, guys.” I can see Oliver raise an eyebrow toward Mal and she nods in his direction. A sudden realization crosses his eyes and I know he now knows what we have been talking about for the past few minutes.
“Swapping war stories then,” he says, nodding at my head.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
Thank God that the doctor comes in at that moment. “OK, Ms. Stevenson, you don’t have a break, just a sprain, and I consulted with our neurologist and he does want to do a scan. So let’s get you back to X-ray and we’ll get that taken care of, yes?” I nod and ask a few questions and then I’m whisked back to X-ray, leaving Mal and Oliver alone in the room. I can see the semi-panicked looks on their faces when they realize that they are about to be alone together and I wince, but not from my injuries.
I lie in the MRI machine cursing my stupidity, my clumsiness, my stupidity. Damn it, Laura. I think to myself, how could you not have seen that coming? OK, maybe not the car accident part, but both Mal and Oliver talked about a thirteen-year-old daughter and a separation and they are both from around here. I try to run numbers in my head. If Oliver went to university for law and had been practicing when they separated, then Rose was born while they were in their mid-twenties and Jack would have been what, almost thirty? So that makes Jack about a year or two older than I am and Oliver about a year or two younger than me, I think…damn my head is foggy. Is that what set Jack off again? Oliver alluded to something the other day, but with the aching in my head, I can’t recall it all. Shit, Sean’s death still has me fucked up, so I imagine it’s the same for Jack. I begin to feel even guiltier as I lie in the machine, the noise so loud it is difficult to think at all.
When I’m wheeled back into my room, I see Oliver sitting where Mal had been, but I don’t see Mal.
“She needed to get back to the store and pick up our daughter from her grandparents’ house. I told her I’d stay with you.” He looks at me searching my eyes.
“OK,” I say. And then silence descends upon us. It is the first uncomfortable silence we’ve had since we met several weeks ago back at the pub. The silence is suddenly broken by Oliver’s phone. He looks down at the number which I can’t see from my angle and holds up a finger to me while walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. I can see him pacing the hallway and talking somewhat animatedly for Oliver. Several times I watch him throw a hand up in the air. I can hear him raise his voice here and there, although I can’t hear what he is saying. At one point he stops in front of the window insert in my door and stares at me, worry and concern etched on his face. He almost appears in physical pain and he rubs his temple and then starts pacing again. Ten minutes later, he opens the door, placing the phone in his pocket.
“Sorry,” he says, looking at me as he sits back down in the chair by my bed.
“Everything OK?” I ask.
He takes my hand in his and nods. “We should talk,” he says after a few minutes. “But let’s get you sorted first.”
I nod, and then the doctor comes back in and announces that I get a free, all-expenses paid overnight holiday at their first-class facility. I know he’s trying to be funny, but I just groan. He explains that the neurologist can’t make it in tonight and with my previous head trauma issues they want me to spend the night for observation and a final checkup by the neurologist the next day.
“Your scans look good,” he says. “But we just want to err on the side of caution. We’ll get you a more permanent room and then I’ll check in on you before I leave tonight. OK?”
I nod, accepting my defeat. I should text my kids, but I’ll wait until tomorrow and downplay it. They’ll freak out if I call them from the hospital. I almost laugh out loud considering my recent trans-Atlantic freak-out. They move me to a private room and Oliver goes to get us some late lunch. We eat sandwiches from some fancy restaurant where he has gotten takeaway from before and he tells me about Rose’s upcoming summer camp. Eventually, as dinnertime approaches, I ask Oliver to check on Hagrid and bring me a change of clothes and he says sure. He tells me that he’ll bring them by later before he goes to bed.
“Thanks, Oliver,” I say and he takes my hand in his again. His touch is gentle and warm and he grips my hand and leans down kissing me gently on the cheek.
“I’m glad you’re alright, Laura,” he says with a warm smile and another squeeze of my hand.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I might try to go to bed early. I’ll see you in the morning, then?”
“I can come back earlier tonight, if you like?” he replies.
I shake my head. “No, really, I’ll be fine for tonight. If you can’t make it back with my clothes tonight, it’s fine. Really, thank you.”
He nods and then releases my hand and leaves. I am now alone in my four-star hospital room. Somehow, I have a feeling Oliver talked to someone and got me bumped up to the Queen’s suite here because it is way nicer than any hospital room I’ve had back home. I don’t question it though and
am only too happy to partake in a rare treat under otherwise crappy circumstances. The nurses bring me some pain meds which help me fall into a deep sleep.
Chapter 16
Laura’s Playlist: “Runaway” by The National
My dream is so vivid. I can see Jack and I’m running and running, but the path never ends and I can’t reach him. I try to reach him and I fall and I keep falling through blackness. I awake with a sudden jerk, my eyes flying open. The room is so bright and I immediately close my eyes. I feel a hand on my arm and a head resting against my hand. Oliver must have come back again. I smile. He is a nice guy. Then I internally groan. I can’t go out with him, Mal has become my friend and that breaks friend code. For God’s sake, he’s still married. I lift my hand to my temple and wince. That’s going to smart for a while. The head on my hand starts to slowly move.
“You came back early,” I say my eyes still closed.
“Not really. I’d say I’m rather late,” a familiar voice answers me and my eyes fly open as my head turns to my right. Jack is sitting next to me. His big hand wrapped completely around my forearm and he strokes the top of my fingers with his other hand. God, no! I can’t take this. Drama-free, remember that, Laura, you wanted a drama-free summer. Focus on the book, small town, nothing ever happens. I am an idiot. Maybe I should just go home and lock myself in my guest room for the next two months. Yes, that’s a great idea. My mind snaps back to the present and I try to answer him, but I can’t. I don’t know what to say.
“I…you…when…how…” I can’t form a full sentence as my mind restarts my thoughts in rapid fire.
“Shhhh.” He grips my hand and his free hand flies up to my face to stroke my cheek. I lean into his hand and his thumb brushes against my lower lip. “Slow down there.”
I take several deep breaths and still myself. “How did you know?”
“I called Oliver last night and I heard background noises and asked why he was at a hospital. I assumed Rose had gotten hurt or was sick or something, but then he said it was you. So I got in my car and drove through the night.”
My mouth drops open and I stare at him. “But, why? I mean, I don’t understand. I’ll be fine. Oliver knows that. There’s no need to rush to my bedside.”
“I know,” he says. “When I turned my phone back on, I saw the missed texts and then Oliver told me you were here and I didn’t even think. I just left London.”
“Well, really there was no need,” I say more curtly than I should.
I can see he’s hurt by my tone, but I don’t really care. Come to think of it, I’m not feeling particularly apologetic toward him at this moment.
“How’s Lily?” he asks.
“She’s fine,” I answer.
“Good,” he says. “You are staying here for the rest of the summer?”
“Yes. I think so,” I reply. We sit staring at one another for a few minutes. The silence fills the voids between us like water fills the spaces between rocks.
“I’m glad you came back,” he finally says. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long.”
“Why did you go to London?” I ask. I realize that I am biting my lower lip and I release it. Why am I so nervous?
“Business,” he replies with a typical non-specific answer. I give him that look that a mother gives her child when she knows he or she is lying. “OK, OK,” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “I was upset when you left and so I left. I guess your irrational behavior was contagious.”
“My irrational behavior?” I look at him as I point to myself. “My behavior was appropriate. I am a mother. But of course, I don’t expect you to understand that.” He looks at me and sighs, taking my hand in his again.
“Let’s not fight,” he says. “Let’s get you feeling better and we can discuss things later. OK?”
“Fine,” I mumble, taking my hand from his and touching my forehead again. It really smarts.
“Do you need more pain meds?” he asks, a look of true concern on his face.
“No,” I say. “I really just want to go home.”
“Home, home?” he questions, studying me.
“No, Seaview home,” I answer. A small look of relief descends upon his face.
“I’ll see if the neurologist is in yet. He’s an old family friend,” Jack says.
And with that he lets go of my hand, his finger running down the length of my good leg which sends a shiver up my spine as he walks out of the room. I glance over to another chair in the room and see the bag of my belongings that Oliver must have dropped off in the night. About fifteen minutes later, the doctor pops in and examines me, declaring me fit as a fiddle or nearly. He signs my release papers and gives me some prescriptions for various pain meds. I am ordered to visit his office in another week.
Jack pulls the car around as I sit in a wheelchair. I hate this protocol at hospitals. I am perfectly capable of walking, yet I’m forced to sit here like an invalid until someone can whisk me away in a vehicle. Nurse Gretchen, who may be the only nurse I can tolerate in the hospital, helps me out of the chair giving my arm a pat. “Good luck, lovey,” she says with a smile and I’m helped into the car by Jack who nearly pushes Nurse Gretchen out of the way in order to assist me. She gives him a dirty look and then turns to go back into the hospital.
“Thanks!” I call out to her. She turns briefly and says, “You’re welcome,” before giving Jack another look and heading through the automatic doors.
Jack and I drive home in silence. It’s 10:30 a.m. and I just want to get home, see Hagrid, and lie in my own bed. Beyond that, I can’t think.
Jack helps me out of the car and before I can reach around for my crutches he has picked me up and is carrying me to the front door which he promptly unlocks. He sets me on the sofa and then turns to go back to the car. He brings in my other items and sets them down by the door. Hagrid is meowing and jumps up on my lap giving my hand a nuzzle.
“Hey there, sweet kitty,” I murmur against his warm fur. He settles himself on my thighs. Jack shakes his head.
“That won’t do.” He picks up Hagrid and carries him to the kitchen. I hear food being put in his bowl and then Jack is back looking at me and holding an ice pack. He undoes the boot-like contraption on my foot and then places the ice on my ankle. I pull back a bit, wincing at the pain and coldness of the ice.
“Sorry,” he says. “Doctor’s orders.” He runs his finger up my leg and grips my thigh as he raises himself back up to stand beside me. “What do you fancy for lunch?”
“Lunch?” I blink at him. “I’m good, really. I’m sure you have plenty to sort out having just come back.”
“Yes, I do.” He heads back into my kitchen. I hear rustling and about five minutes later I am presented with chips, a sandwich, and flavored, carbonated water. He sits and watches as I eat. We both know that we inevitably need to talk, however, neither of us seems ready to start that conversation.
After lunch he picks me up and carries me to my bed, laying me down gingerly as though I may break. He covers me up and squeezes my shoulder, looking deep into my eyes. “I need to pop by the house. I’ll be back in a bit to check on you, OK?”
“Jack, really, go and do what you need. I am OK here. I just need to rest for a bit,” I argue wearily.
He nods and exits my room. I hear him shut the door and the engine of his car starts up and then he is gone. I doze a bit and then wake to a knocking at my door. I go and see Oliver standing on my front porch.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks, looking concerned.
“No,” I lie. “Just resting.”
“Oh.” He looks down. “I hear Jack is back here.”
“So it would seem,” I say, turning so he can enter past me. He does and sits down on the sofa before patting it so I come and sit by him. He sighs, rubbing his temple. I hobble over and sit down. I see him staring at the crutches against the wall, but he wisely doesn’t say anything.
“I guess I didn’t realize you and Mal were becoming
such good friends,” he says with a sheepish look.
“Yes. I feel a little silly that I didn’t put two and two together about you all,” I say, truly feeling silly.
“Well, it’s not like we advertise it.”
“Still, you both talked about your daughter and you have an ‘ex’ in the area.” I shrug. “I guess detective won’t be in my repertoire.” He’s silent for a long minute.
I look at him. “It’s not rocket science to see that things aren’t finished between you two,” I say to him.
“I think it is,” he mumbles and looks the other way.
“Oliver, what are we doing here?” I ask. “I mean, I’ve loved spending time with you don’t get me wrong. And maybe there could be something between us given time, but…”
“You’re confused.”
“Yes, very.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” he says dryly. “I haven’t been interested in anyone in years. I just don’t have time. And then you came along and I don’t know.”
“Does Jack know we’ve been hanging out?” I ask him.
“No,” he says. “And maybe he shouldn’t.”
“Oliver.” I glare at him.
“OK, maybe he should.” He stops for a minute and then continues. “You still have feelings for him don’t you?”
“I don’t know…I think, maybe,” I say, now looking away too. He lets out a loud breath.
“I’m sorry, really, I feel like an idiot,” I say, now I’m the sheepish one.
“No, I shouldn’t have stepped in, you were honest with me that you needed to shore up some stuff with Jack and I kept pressing it,” he says, his gaze returning to me. “You do what you need to and let’s just see where the cards fall.”
“Agreed,” I say quietly. He squeezes my hand.
“At the very least, I’m glad we’ve become friends,” he says softly and leans in to give me a sweet kiss on the cheek, lingering just for a moment as though he wished he could kiss my lips too. I pull back a little and he stands.
“Well, I guess I should be off. Do you need anything from town?” he asks.
