Only the sunlight drifting through the half-open curtains fills the room and casts away the dusky darkness. Warren stands with his back to us as he looks out the window at a terrible view of the roof. Helen is lying in bed, her face pale against the light blue sheets, and she’s still, almost as though a statue lies there. Skye takes one look at her, and a shudder rips through her. She gasps, and once she can manage to speak whispers, “Warren?”
Skye’s voice is stark, alien here, and I suddenly feel like I’m in a church sanctuary awaiting a funeral. Warren turns. He senses her, that she is racing towards him, and catches her in his arms as though she were five, drawing Skye close. His face is pale, too, and he eyes me worriedly, like he doesn’t know what to say, either. The typical reassuring calm is gone, and even he looks lost, which tells me just how seriously Skye’s world is about to be rocked.
Skye leans against him, and I wait for her to draw back before I finally ask, “How’s Helen?”
Warren stares at his wife, who hasn’t moved since we’ve been here, which is so not like her. Typically, voices wake her. “Sleeping. The doctor has given her sedatives to help her deal with the pain and medication to treat the clots.”
Skye’s face turns ashen, and I can tell by her crestfallen expression she wanted him to tell her nothing serious had happened, that everything was just a misunderstanding, but he can’t. She takes small, shallow breaths, as though her body can’t handle more. “So what happens now?” She licks her lips, and I can tell by her tight expression she’s about to cry.
“We wait and see how the medication is working.” Warren brushes his fingers through his hair, and I can tell by the thick stubble on his face he’s been here a while, and it’s wearing on him.
Skye takes a dazed step backwards, the shock evident. “We wait? Mom had a stroke, and they want to wait to treat her?” Her voice is rising, and her nostrils flare with each breath. The storm is coming.
“Skye, it’s going to be okay.” Warren reaches for her shoulder as he senses the precipice in front of them both, but she backs away.
“No, it’s not. It’s never going to be okay again!” Her tone is fringed with panic, and she takes one last look at her mom before flying out the door.
Warren’s shoulders sink, and he starts to follow, but I gesture for him to stay with Helen. “I’ll get her. Just give me a minute.”
He nods slowly and walks back to Helen’s bedside while I slip out the door. As I suspect, Skye is right there, her back plastered against the opposite wall as she tries to hold everything inside. She’s breathing fast. When I reach for her, she snaps, “Don’t!” in a tone fraught with tears and emotions, which tells me she’s afraid she’s going to lose whatever composure she might have.
“Okay.” I lean against the wall next to her, my hands in my pockets. For a few seconds, we stand there, me looking at her, and Skye looking at the ground. No big surprise there, really. When she’s upset, she’d much rather stare at anything except at someone. It makes it easier to think she’s in control, which she isn’t. When it comes to a lot of the big stuff, none of us are in the driver’s seat.
“I get that you’re upset, and I know you love your mom, but so does Warren, and he’s doing everything he can to stay calm; he’s as terrified as you, Skye.”
That’s when the flash of tears appears in her eyes, and she starts blinking, trying to push them back.
“I know you want to be angry, but it’s not going to do anyone, least of all you, any good. We both know that.”
She leans her head against the wall and closes her eyes. “I know. But if I wouldn’t have driven like a maniac because I was so afraid, I would have been here when it happened.” Her hands begin to tremble, and I know she’s losing control. She knows it, too.
“And what would you have done Warren didn’t? How could you have made things better?” I keep my voice low as two nurses walk past. One of them looks in our direction and I offer a half-smile, trying to tell her we’re all right. She must see things like this a lot because she nods and keeps going.
Skye opens her eyes. “I would have been able to tell her I loved her.”
I nod and reach out for her hand. “And you think your mom doesn’t know that? You think she doubts how you feel? I don’t.”
Skye leans toward me so her head rests on my shoulder. “I know what you’re saying, Devin, but it feels like I should have done something instead of being stupid—and how could I have missed the fact she was in pain? Who does that?”
I squeeze her hand. “Everyone. No matter how much we want to think we know when someone we love is in pain, we don’t. Hell, the day you took all those pills, I had no clue you were trying to kill yourself. I knew you were upset, but that’s it. And you can’t imagine how guilty I felt after I got there, knowing how close it was.” I rest my chin lightly on her forehead, liking the way it feels to have her there.
“That was different, Devin.”
“Was it? How? Loss is loss, Skye, and pain is pain. It doesn’t matter if someone means to kill themselves or whether something bad happens. The guilt is there no matter what, and right now, Warren’s in the same boat you are. He thinks there’s something he should’ve done even though there’s no way he could have known.”
Skye slips one arm over my stomach. “So what do I do, Devin?”
Kissing her forehead, I reply, “The best you can. It’s all anyone can do.”
She lingers there a few more minutes before finally slipping from my arms toward the door to Helen’s room. Her face is ashen, but at least she seems steadier on her feet and more composed.
Taking a deep breath, I follow, praying Helen recovers. As I slip into the room, I see Skye sitting in the chair near the bed, her hand tentatively reaching out to take her mom’s. Warren has turned to face her, his back braced against the window.
I watch Helen’s face a moment, searching for some signs of change, that she’s even aware Skye is there, but her features are slack, more than likely controlled by the drugs creeping through the IV tubing. Giving Skye a little distance, I walk over to Warren and lean against the window ledge next to him. I take in his pale face and the bloodshot eyes he rubs in fatigue.
“You all right?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.” He blinks a couple of times as though trying to clear the haze.
I peer at the clock. “Well, you have been here a while.” I nod toward Helen. “I take it she’s going to be out of it for a while.”
“Yeah.” He nods and turns his attention to Skye. “How’s she holding up?” His voice is a low rumbling, and I can tell he doesn’t want her to know he’s asking.
“She’s scared, like the rest of us.”
Warren swallows hard and tears film his eyes—the first sign in all this that’s unsettled me. “I can’t pretend I have any better idea than anyone else what’s going to happen. I do know whatever happens, I’ll always be here for her. I made her a promise, and I intend to keep it.” He draws in a shaky breath.
Patting his shoulder, I say, “She knows that. Right now, she’s pretty shaken. Give her some time, and she’ll be okay.” I look back at Helen. No change. Right now, Skye’s bent close to her, whispering something in her ear.
“I wish there were more I could do.” Warren’s voice is distant, and I can feel the pain as he barely holds everything together. That’s when I know he needs to take a break. Hospital rooms are too damned depressing for anyone’s good.
I pat his shoulder. “Why don’t you take a break—get some sleep or something to eat? We’ll stay here with Helen.” I nod toward Skye. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” I tell him. “There’s no point in just standing here, waiting for things to get better or worse. That’ll happen without any action on either of our parts, okay? Just go get some air and get out of this place. Helen would understand.”
He rakes his f
ingers through his hair, and I can tell he’s afraid to leave, afraid something else will happen. The problem with that is something might. Then again, even if it happened when he were here, he couldn’t control it then, either. Control is an illusion, that’s it.
“Go,” I whisper, sensing he’s about to cave in.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, his shoulders sagging
“Yes. We’ve got her. Just go take a break.” If my words aren’t enough, I gently take his shoulder and urge him toward the door.
“All right.” He stops beside Skye and gently grasps her shoulders reassuringly. When she looks up, he whispers he’ll be back in a few moments, and she gives him a slight nod before turning her attention back to her mom, where nothing has changed. Stillness has settled on Helen like a fine sheen of dust.
Warren edges towards the door and slips out, his last gaze at Helen’s face. For a moment, I just stand there, watching all the sadness and pain wash over Skye’s face. Her hand gently grasps her mothers, and she keeps watching as though she’s expecting her mom to wake up at any moment. I wish Helen would wake up. How I wish that.
Sensing she won’t, I step towards Skye. My hands touch her shoulders and my fingers gently begin to work the tension from her muscles.
“Why couldn’t this have happened when I was here?” she whispers in a trembling voice.
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” I brush the hair toward her front so I can keep massaging. “You’d still be where you are, and it would hurt just as much.”
She starts shaking, and I know it has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. It’s at least seventy-five in here, and definitely warmer than I like. No, the cold comes from fear, and for a moment, she says nothing for a while. When she finally does speak, her voice breaks. “What if I lose my mom?”
This is when I wish I had all the answers so I could put her mind at ease, but I don’t. No one does, and while that universal should put all of us at ease in our ignorance, somehow I don’t think it does. So I take a deep breath and do the only thing I know: I wrap my arm around her and pull her close.
“I know you’re scared,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. “And you have every right to be. Just don’t let that fear overshadow everything. Your mom is here. Just hold onto that.”
She blinks and looks up at me. “Devin, she’s all the family I have. I don’t count my father anymore.”
“Is she? I don’t think that’s right.” I push the hair from her eyes. “You have Warren—and good luck trying to get rid of me. I’m worse than ABC gum.”
Her eyes close. “I’m not Warren’s real daughter, Devin. We both know that.” Her voice breaks again, and tears spill down her face.
“No, you’re not his birth daughter, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think of you as family. Warren’s not going anywhere. I can promise you that.”
She nods, unsure. “But what about Mom? What if she misses the wedding?” Her gaze drifts to her left hand, which is shaking badly.
“She’s not going to miss anything. She will be there. You just have to believe that things are going to turn out okay.” I try to meet her gaze, but she refuses to look at me.
Each breath is shallow and painful. “That’s where I’m not so good, Devin. You know how shaky the ground is for me.”
Outside, a nurse rolls a blood pressure cart past the doorway. Her gaze finds mine momentarily and I offer a smile because I don’t know what else to do. Then the nurse is gone and I’m back with Skye and Helen.
“Then I’ll carry you. One way or another, we’ll get through this. It’s just going to take some time.
I feel her lean into me, and while I wish like hell her mom were awake and lucid, right now I’m grateful to be holding Skye like this. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Together, we sit down, ease back, and rest against the back of the chair, and it’s not long before both of us drift off to sleep, waiting for some good news.
“Skye?”
The sound of Helen’s voice prompts me from sleep, and I wake to find Skye nestled against me, her head resting comfortably on my shoulder. Although there’s a slight crick in my neck, it’s not so bad. After I work the kinks out of my neck, I’m starting to think otherwise. Skye’s worth it.
“Mom,” she whispers, leaning close as she takes Helen’s hand and buries herself against her mom’s chest. Sensing she needs a moment, I step toward the window and look out, watching the last of daylight leaving the sky.
“Shh.” Helen’s voice is weak, but I still hear her trying to calm Skye. “It’s going to be okay.”
I glance back and see Skye clinging to her, crying softly as the pain she’s been trying so hard to keep hidden forces its way out. Helen has wrapped her arm around her daughter, and she holds her tightly, murmuring things I don’t want to hear. This is a private moment, and I start to leave when I see Helen take Skye’s hand—the left one—and gasp at the sight of the ring.
“Oh, my,” she croons, looking from Skye to me and back. “Does this mean what I think?”
Skye slowly brushes the back of one hand across her face and nods. “Yes. You have to be here. Devin and I are getting married, and I can’t plan the wedding by myself. You have to help me.” Her voice breaks again, and I feel the pain that just keeps eating away at her. Somehow I know deep down Skye thinks all of this is her fault, that she’s never really deserved to be happy, but she’s wrong. She’s so wrong.
Helen smiles at Skye and reaches to brush a strand of hair from her face. “I know you’re scared, baby, but I’m going to be fine. You’ll see.” She offers a weak smile and nod that finally coaxes a grin from Skye.
“Devin,” she says, stretching her hand toward me. “C’mere.”
I reach the bed in two strides and stand behind Skye as I take one of Helen’s hands into mine. Helen looks at us both, and I swear I see tears in her eyes. That’s when I lean close to Skye and whisper in her ear, “I told you she was going to be fine.”
That forces her to face me. “You’re not always right,” she whispers, daring me to contradict her.
I grin. “No, not always. Just when it matters, and you know it.”
“Whatever you say,” she retorts and turns back to Helen. Taking a deep breath, Skye starts to say something again, and I know what’s about to come out. Call me surprised. I wasn’t really sure when she’d tell her mother about the pregnancy, but I’m thrilled. One less secret to haunt Skye.
“Mom, there’s just one other thing—Devin and I are going to have a baby.”
Helen draws in a sharp gasp of air, and her expression is so shocked I’m waiting for it to kind of filter into some other expression so I can tell what she’s thinking. Is this a good thing, or a bad one? Is she angry or happy?
It takes a moment to see the grin that slowly emerges and blossoms into a smile. “You mean I’m going to be a grandmother?” She can barely get the words out she’s so excited.
Skye nods, and I say, “Yes, ma’am, you are.” In that moment, when I finally tell someone there’s a future between me and Skye, one that’s going to have another little person in its future, I feel myself break into a wide smile that consumes me because for once I feel like everything I’ve worked so hard to make a reality is just that.
Helen reaches up and pulls us both to her as tears brim and spill down her face. “Oh, my. What a wonderful gift.”
We linger in her embrace for a few minutes before pulling back and smiling at each other. Skye and her mom begin talking, and that’s when I decide to get a soda. It’s not that I’m thirsty; it’s just been a long couple of days, and the fatigue is quickly catching up to me.
“I’m going to grab a soda,” I tell Skye as I reach for the door handle. “Do you want anything?”
They stop talking long enough for Skye to wave at me and let me know she’s fine and doesn’t need anything. Then again, Skye doesn’t need much sleep, which is a good thing, considering the baby in our future. Neither of us will pro
bably be getting a whole lot once he or she makes a debut.
I walk down to the soda machines and slip a couple of dollars into the slot. As I bend to get the soda, I see movement from the corner of my eye. Turning, I see Warren stands there, his hands shoved into his pocket.
“Hey, Devin,” he says, and his eyes look clearer, as though he’s finally left the fogginess of exhaustion behind. A few hours of good sleep will definitely do that.
“Warren.” I gesture to the machine. “Can I get you something?”
“Nah, I’m fine.” He peers down the hallway, the worry tugging his lips into a frown. “Where’s Skye?”
“With Helen. She just woke up a little while ago, and the two of them have catching up to do and a wedding to plan.”
At that, he turns towards me, his lips curving into a smile. “You finally asked her? And she said yes?”
“I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. You should have figured that.”
He nods. “I did. I was just waiting for you to get up enough courage to realize you had it in you.” He reaches out and gives me a hug. “Sounds like congratulations are in order.”
I pull back and unscrew the top from my soda. “In more than one way, if you want the truth.” When he cocks an eyebrow questioningly, I save him from asking. “Skye’s pregnant.” I take a sip and savor the rush of chilled soda down my throat.
He slowly nods, finally catching on. “Which is why she took off, isn’t it? She was scared.” He shoves his hands back into his pockets and scrutinizes my face.
“Terrified.” I screw the cap back on the soda. “For a while, I didn’t think she was going to let me inside.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “But she did, not that it happened quite the way either of us expected.” I walk away from the machine and down the hall, back toward the waiting area.
“What do you mean?” Warren follows, and we both sit on one of the benches.
Summer Sunsets Page 17
