My heart sinks in my chest at the flushed look on his face. He looks like he’s going to be sick, and I want nothing more than to run to him and tell him it’s going to be okay. But I can’t. I keep my feet as grounded as possible, willing them to stay that way.
Laurie comes out. She must have also sensed that something was wrong.
Nate turns around and sees me and Laurie looking at him with concern.
“My wife…she…I gotta go.”
“You’re married?” Laurie is dumfounded. “Never mind. Yeah, go. We’ve got you covered.” She looks at me for an explanation, but I have nothing to say.
Nate is leaving.
He’s going to drive all the way to San Francisco alone in his condition. He’s too worried and scared. He’s liable to crash on the way just from trying to get there in a hurry.
He might belong to someone else, but before our night together, we were friends. I can’t let my friend be alone right now.
When he reaches his truck, I’m at the passenger side, sliding in.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going with you.” I buckle up. I’d offer to drive, but I know better. What Nate needs right now is a source of calm.
“Crystal, I can’t expect you to—”
“I’m your friend, Nate. Let me be here for you.”
He doesn’t have time to argue. He drives as fast as he can without being dangerous. I text Justin that I had to leave due to a family emergency. The ride is quiet. Nate is in a traumatic daydream. He isn’t even blinking. His thoughts are solely on one thing.
“She had seizures after the stroke. They said it was common,” he talks into the open.
“I’m sure the doctors are doing everything they can for her,” I offer in assurance.
“She already has so little.” He’s frightened.
Placing my hand on top of his, I give what little comfort I have to give. He lets out a relieved breath, and he rolls his palm over and takes my hand. We drive the rest of the way in silence.
chapter TWENTY-ONE
Instead of going to the Golden Gate Rehab, we go the Hospital.
Nate walks to the doors of the emergency room and mouths the words, Thank you, to me before the doors close behind him.
I take a seat in the waiting room and wait. I watch CNN enough times that the news starts to repeat. I take out my phone and play a game. When my phone dies, I stare at the mauve linoleum floor and count the squares from one side of the room to the other. When exhaustion finally sets in, I lean back and allow my eyes to close.
When my eyes open, it takes me a moment to realize where I am. The clock on the wall says it’s two in the morning. I think I slept a total of thirty minutes.
Rubbing my eyes, I rise from the chair and walk to the nurse by the check-in desk. The woman behind the computer looks up at me.
“I’m checking in on my friend. Last name Teller. She had a seizure. Brought in from Golden Gate Rehabilitation,” I offer as much information as I can.
“Elizabeth Teller?” she asks.
I nod. Elizabeth. What a beautiful name.
“She was just transferred to the third floor.”
“She’s okay!” Relief swims through my veins. “Thank you.”
I turn around and look at the uncomfortable plastic seat and the television news ticker replaying again. I know I should stay here, so Nate can find me when it’s time to leave, but I can’t fathom sitting back down. My adrenaline is at an all-time high. My brain is berating myself for being here, and my heart is wondering where Nate is and if he’s okay.
Needing to stretch my legs, I take a walk. Through a side door, I see the restrooms and another door. I swing that one open and take the long hallway away from the emergency room. I eventually land in the lobby of the main hospital.
I take the elevator to the third floor. Perhaps the waiting room up there has a couch. I can wait for Nate there.
When I exit onto the floor, it’s dark and quiet. A waiting area is just beyond the elevator bank. I take a seat and start reading Consumer Reports. Because that’s what people who are visiting their sick loved ones want to read about—oven ranges with built-in warming drawers and high-tech thermometers.
A nurse walks through the doors, her white sneakers squeaking. She passes through another set of doors. It’s quiet again.
The elevator chimes. A doctor exits. He walks through double doors. Again, silence.
I shuffle through AARP The Magazine. The double doors open again, but this time, Nate walks through. I stand when he approaches. He sees the concern in my eyes.
“She’s okay. She’s sleeping.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Was there any damage?”
“They ran some tests. Scans look the same.” He’s melancholy. Nate points his thumb toward the elevator. “I have to go back downstairs to the emergency room and fill out a form.”
As much as I want to be here for him, I can’t help but feel out of place. I invited myself, like an overbearing mother. If it weren’t two thirty in the morning, I’d leave.
“I’ll wait here,” I offer.
Nate bobs his head. A look in his eyes makes it seem like he wants to say so much, yet his mouth can give so little. Instead, he turns around and hits the down button for the elevator.
When the elevator closes behind him, stare back at myself through the steel doors. Long auburn hair, pink skin, and bright eyes.
I can’t help but wonder about the woman he’s giving his world for.
I walk through the doors I saw Nate coming through. At the nurses’ station is a whiteboard with patients’ names on it.
E. Teller is in room A302.
“Miss, you can’t be here.” A nurse approaches, scowling.
I stammer back and point down the hall toward where her room is. “I’m here to see my sister.” I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t really want to see her. I think I just wanted to glance at her one more time. I can’t explain to this nurse that I’m in love with the woman’s husband and want to see her face one more time for…closure?
“This is hardly visiting hours. How did you get up here?”
“Through the emergency room. The doctor told me to come up.” It’s amazing how quick on your feet you can be when you’re caught in a lie.
“Who did you say your sister was?” She suspiciously eyes me.
“Elizabeth Teller,” I give the name with confidence.
The nurse’s face falls. She must be well versed in this patient’s chart. “Come this way.”
The nurse escorts me down the hall, and when we approach room A302, she opens the door and stands by Elizabeth’s bed, checking the fluid in the IV.
Standing by the doorway, I hesitate with entering. This feels like an invasion of privacy. But the nurse is looking at me, probably wondering why I’m not rushing to my sister’s bedside.
I take a few hesitant steps forward and sit at the bedside chair. Elizabeth is in the bed. She’s so small, her body crumpled in. She’s probably in her thirties, yet up close, she looks fifty, aged by the physical disabilities. Her wrists are thin and curved in. The infinity symbol that’s identical to Nate’s is wrinkled from the folded skin. She is breathing peacefully. Her eyes are deep in slumber.
The nurse reaches down on the bed and lifts the television remote. “Click the red button if you need anything.”
I nod in thanks as she exits, and I face Elizabeth. She sounded like a spitfire. I wonder what she was doing the day her life altered.
Did she wake up to a naked Nate, rumpled in the sheets and kissing her neck? Did he rub her back and tell her he loved her?
Maybe she went for brunch with girlfriends and gossiped about their men. She had waffles. And a Bloody Mary. After brunch, she headed to the dance studio where the little girls in their tutus adored her. Nate came by to pick her up from work with Willie Mays on his leash. Together, they walked, hand in hand, stopping at a little market where he picked up fresh ingredient
s for the dinner he had planned. At home, she took a long bath while he made her favorite dish. They drank whiskey on the rocks and made love by the fire. When she went to sleep, she woke up a different woman.
We’re always told we should live like it’s the last day. Do today what you can’t do tomorrow. But we don’t. We all have reminders in our lives. My friend Emma lost brother who was only twenty-one. Naomi lost a forty-year-old aunt to cancer. We hear these stories. We hug our families. We make bucket lists. We vow to live life to the fullest. And we do. For a moment. And then life gets in the way.
Maybe if we stopped trying to live the perfect life, finding the end, we’d be able to enjoy the moments more.
I don’t know Elizabeth, but I know this. She lived. She loved.
She might not have done all the things she’d planned, but she took chances.
On a dare, she took a chance on a beautiful man.
“We’re similar, you and me,” I say out loud, unaware if she can hear me or not. “I took a chance on love once, too. It wasn’t as successful, but it was fun. I guess it’s the creative types in us. We dare to take a risk.
“I stopped taking risks in love though. You found your soul mate. I’m still looking for mine. You are so loved, Elizabeth. You might not know it, but I hope you do. You are loved by a man who has been dedicating his life to make sure you are cared for, comfortable, and that you are forever the pillar of his existence. If I can gain an ounce of that love from someone, I will consider myself the luckiest girl in the world.”
I wipe a falling tear from my face. And then I use the back of my hand to get the rest.
I lean forward and rest my elbows on the bed. “I heard you are a phenomenal dancer. Do you miss performing? I don’t. I never cared for the crowds. It made it seem impersonal. I enjoy the intimate moments. The times I play my songs for small groups. Like at the vineyard.”
I bite my nail and look up at her, unmoving, but from the slight rise and fall of her chest, I can see she’s still asleep.
“Elizabeth, if you were to wake up tomorrow, would you change your path? Is there something you’ve always wanted to try but never did? I picked up from my life and left it behind. I told myself it was to find love, but what I really think I was looking for was me. I lost myself somewhere. Taking a job that wasn’t fulfilling. Living in a city that wasn’t for me. Dressing like someone I wasn’t. I found my soul in Napa. Ed said I brought his home back to him. But what he really did was bring my soul back to me.
“Elizabeth, you don’t know me, but I wish you did. I wish Nate’s heart didn’t hurt the way it does. I wish you could be happy again.”
And that’s when I realize that I love Nate more than I have ever loved anyone in my life. I can honestly say I’d rather Nate live forever in happiness with Elizabeth than the life of despair he is currently in. I would give anything for her to be able to love him again.
The door behind me opens, and the shadows of two people appear on the wall, the light from the hallway casting behind them into the darkened room.
“Your father is here,” the nurse says.
I freeze. My heart starts beating a million miles a minute, and my throat goes dry.
Elizabeth’s father is here.
How am I supposed to explain to this man who I am or why I’m here?
I turn around and am relieved that he’s not in the room. It’s just the nurse standing with a glass vase.
A glass vase filled with gorgeous burgundy roses that grow in the Napa sunshine.
Magic roses.
The nurse places the vase on the side table, and I stare at them, wondering if I’m imagining things.
They could be from a flower shop. They could be from someone’s garden.
They could be…
Rosemary’s roses.
chapter TWENTY-TWO
Rosemary’s roses.
Big Ed.
Ellie.
I gasp. My hands fly to my mouth.
The little girl in the painting. The daughter who lives in San Francisco. The daughter he lost years ago.
My world is spinning on its axis. I can’t control gravity. My mind is floating, wondering how I missed the signs that his daughter was this sick. I pegged her as ungrateful. I pegged her as a spoiled brat. I pegged her as troubled.
I was wrong. So very, very wrong.
“You’re right. You are a lot alike,” his deep grumble comes from behind me.
I stand and offer him my seat, but he refuses it. Leaning on his cane, he looks at Ellie, shaking his head, his face falling.
“I lost my wife to cancer, but this…” He motions to his daughter in the hospital bed. “No parent should have to watch their child suffer like this. It’s unnatural. Children bury their parents. Not the other way around.”
Ed walks over to Ellie and rubs her hair. He places a kiss on her forehead. He whispers against her head, “You have to stop scaring us like this.” A tear falls into his beard. “Papa can’t take too much more.”
He looks at me and grunts, “She always did keep us on our toes. Climbing out windows, getting arrested a time or two. Minor stuff. Silly stuff. Ellie stuff. Do you know she would go skydiving once a month? Throw herself out of a damn airplane for fun. Gave me a heart attack. She drove like a maniac, too. And I suppose you heard about her nuptials. Poor Nate had no idea what he was getting into. That kid never liked the adventurous stuff.”
At the mention of Nate, I feel awkward. “You knew.”
Ed saw Nate driving away from the ranch. And he listened as I poured my heart out, professing my love for Nate and the reason we couldn’t be together.
“I knew.”
“I was at the bar when he got a call. I couldn’t let him come alone.” I don’t want Ed to think I was spending the night with him.
Ed nods in understanding and leans down to Ellie. “I see you’ve met Crystal. She’s very special to us. She plays the cello. You should see her play on the veranda. Brings back memories of your mom. And she gives this old guy someone to talk to in the vineyard. Lets me impart my fatherly wisdom.”
Ed smiles and then turns to me. “You think you’re like Ellie? You are. In some ways. But there’s one difference. You still have fire in your eyes.”
He turns back to Ellie, stroking the dark silk of her hair.
“No, Crystal, you remind me of her mom. From the moment you stepped onto my veranda. You have something special, kid. You bring men back from the dead.”
The door opens again, and Nate walks in, a surprised expression on his face. “What are you doing—”
“Take her home, Nathaniel,” Ed says, looking down at Ellie.
“Ed,” Nate stammers. His hand runs to his head, his fingers through his hair. “I spoke to the doctors. They said —”
“It’s late, Nate,” Ed interrupts. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll sit with Ellie tonight. Take Crystal home.” He takes a seat in the chair and settles in.
Nate looks back and forth from Ellie to Ed and then to me. His eyes fall to the floor. “Yes, sir.” He walks out of the room.
I place my hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Do you need anything?”
Ed pats my hand with his. “I’m good. You get some rest.” He releases my hand and rests his on the top of his cane.
I turn to head out the door when his voice calls out again, “It’s not his fault.”
I stop. I’m not entirely sure what he means by that, and I don’t want to have that conversation in front of Ellie.
I walk out to the hallway, but Nate isn’t there. Turning back toward the elevator bank, I exit the double doors and see Nate waiting by the elevator.
When he sees me, he looks relieved. “Ready to go?”
I nod, and we take the elevator down to the lobby. We climb into his truck, and before turning the ignition, he rubs his hands over his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“Are you okay to drive?” I ask.
His eyes are heavy with the pain of a long night.
<
br /> Nate shakes his head, rubbing the side of his face. “Not really,” he offers as he blinks a few times. “It’s too late for a hotel. Do…” He pauses, considering what he’s about to say. “Do you want to crash at my place? Just for a few hours?”
“Your place?” My brows shoot up. His place is above a bar in Downtown Napa.
“My home is here. Just a few blocks away,” he says.
I am too confused by the entire evening to try to understand why Nate has a place in San Francisco. And if he does, why did we stay in a hotel last weekend?
“Yeah, fine. Let’s go there,” I agree.
I watch the streetlights pass as we wind through the streets, up and down hills, and we are quickly in front of a three-story apartment structure with white eaves and bay windows. It looks like the quintessential San Francisco apartment.
He parks the car on the street and pulls the emergency brake. We get out and I follow him into his building and climb up to the third floor.
The first thing I see when I enter is a great round window with a view of San Francisco. The lights of the city, the Golden Gate Bridge, and Coit Tower are in the distance. The apartment is dark, but the light from the streetlamp pours through the glass. Dark woodwork encases the windows, doorways, and archways. A lone brown leather sofa faces a television. The air is stuffy. I try to take a deep breath, but everything feels stale.
Nate takes his jacket off and hangs it on a hook near the door. A pink track jacket hangs on the other hook with a teal scarf on top of it. Straight ahead, the kitchen is clean, aside from a pair of pink Nike running shoes on a chair and a purple Fitbit and iPod lying on the table. An empty bottle of wine is on the counter with two wine glasses in the sink.
Nate holds his hand out, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s waiting for my jacket. I shrug it off and hand it to him. He goes to hang it up next to his, and then he pauses before placing it over his.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I use as a deflection.
“Down the hall, first door on the right,” he says.
Wild Abandon Page 23
