Falling for the Cop

by Dana Nussio

  “I’ll be right back, sweetie,” she told her.

  She hadn’t even reached the stairs before she yanked out her phone to text Shane. She didn’t care that misgivings had kept her going in and out of sleep all night. Or even that their relationship was beyond new. Just this once she needed someone, too, and she knew in her heart that Shane would be there, not just for her mother but for her, as well.

  She jogged upstairs, threw on yoga pants, a sweatshirt and tennis shoes and then reached for her phone again to stuff it in her sweatshirt pocket. Only a few hours before, she’d thought of that little piece of electronics as her protector. As long as she had her phone and her mother didn’t call, everything would be fine. But everything hadn’t been fine. She shuddered with realization that while she’d selfishly been experiencing ecstasy in Shane’s arms, her mother had been alone and in pain.

  The thought hurrying her steps, she jogged down the stairs, stopping at the coat closet for her mother’s maxi-length dress coat and her own parka. With loaded arms, she returned to her mother’s room and looked back and forth between the woman in agony in the bed and the chair she would need to be in before Natalie could get her out of the house.

  “I’m sorry about this. It’s going to hurt, but I have to get you in that chair.” She rolled her from one side to the other so she could put the coat over her long nightgown and placed the wheelchair in position. Finally, she moved the hydraulic lift, which they seldom used anymore, closer and slipped the sling beneath her mother’s bottom. As the lift did all the work of hoisting her mother, Natalie tried to ignore Elaine’s hisses of pain.

  She released the breath she’d been holding when her mother was finally seated. She slipped on Elaine’s boots, hat and gloves and then grabbed her own coat and phone and headed for the door.

  “Now we can get you to the hospital, where they’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  Once they were inside the van, she hurried as much as the slippery roads would allow. Every few seconds, she glanced at her mother, who was strangely quiet. It didn’t seem fair. Why did this have to happen now, just when her mother was finally embracing life again and getting out to enjoy activities? But as soon as she asked the question, the answer appeared in her thoughts. Maybe whatever was ravaging Elaine’s body wasn’t just some unlucky coincidence but rather a direct consequence of all the gallivanting she’d been doing. All the things Shane had been encouraging her to do.

  Natalie didn’t want to believe it, but circumstantial evidence was building in the argument’s favor. Elaine had been out too late too often lately—all at Shane’s insistence—and she’d possibly been exposed to who knew what. Now there was something wrong with her. Really wrong. And only one person might be to blame: Shane.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THE NEON EMERGENCY Room sign didn’t look as bright as it had in the dark, Shane decided as he opened the patrol car door and waited for his driver to bring his chair around. But then a good five hours had passed since his earlier visit to Clearview Hospital, and that had brought daylight with it, even if it was the grayest day he could remember.

  It would have been okay with him if he’d never visited this hospital again. Ever. That he had to come back again today felt like a cruel joke where even the comedian wasn’t laughing. But Natalie had needed him, and there was no way he wouldn’t be there for her. She would have done the same for him this morning if she’d only known that Kent had passed away.

  Trevor Cole rounded the car and parked Shane’s chair in the space of the open door and handed him the transfer board. “Are you sure you don’t need me to stay? I can probably hang out here until I get a call.”

  Shane shook his head. “No, it’s okay. Really. I’m going to be here awhile, waiting. After that, if I need a ride, I’ll call for one.”

  “You do that.”

  “You know how willing I am to use a free taxi service.”

  Trevor nodded but didn’t add to Shane’s sorry attempt at a joke. Nothing about today had been even a little funny.

  Shane had already rolled onto the mat that activated the sliding doors when Trevor called out to him from the car’s open window.

  “Hope Natalie’s mother is okay.”

  Shane glanced back and nodded. Sure, he’d let Trevor know what was going on in the vaguest terms when he’d asked for the ride, but from the officer’s knowing expression, he could only guess that Trevor had been putting together some puzzle pieces. His friends were good cops. Had he really thought he would be able to keep something from any of them for long? But because it really wasn’t anyone’s business, he didn’t go into detail why he would be visiting his former PT’s mother in the hospital.

  Trevor didn’t ask. Instead, he waved, rolled up the window and pulled away.

  Shane continued into the ER waiting room, looking around at what should have been familiar territory after this morning. But this time he didn’t have a specific room to go to, a place he’d visited several times before. He could only hang out in the waiting room and hope Natalie would come looking for him.

  He crossed to the far wall, where several seating groups were separated by end tables with piles of magazines on them. It must have been a slow day in the ER, as only a few people were scattered around the room, some watching TV and munching on snacks, a few others sleeping in uncomfortable positions in the chairs. Where was Natalie? Had she and Elaine already been called back to one of the examination rooms? Had Elaine been admitted? Had Natalie even said this hospital?

  He yanked his phone from his pocket and opened his texts once more.

  Something is wrong with Mom. Taking her to ER at Clearview. Can you meet me there?

  Shane let out a breath as he read her words. At least he was at the right place, especially when he’d made that promise that appeared in the text bubble beneath hers.

  I’ll be there.

  He’d promised it, and he wanted to believe he would have made it to the hospital, even if he’d been forced to roll his chair the five miles there all by himself. But he’d thought he would be there when the time came for Kent as well, and he’d been too late.

  Something squeezed inside his gut, making him shift in his seat. What was happening with Elaine? Natalie hadn’t offered any details, and it was killing him. Had she fallen from her chair? Was there a problem with her medication? Was it bad? Was he too late to help? He shook his head, refusing to accept that idea. Other than being a little tired lately from too many late nights, Elaine was the healthiest paraplegic he knew, and he was getting to know a lot of them.

  But no matter how hard he tried to push away the negative thoughts, a shiver scaled his spine all the same. Natalie had never said what had happened to her mother. She hadn’t texted again to update him on her condition. What did that mean?

  Immediately, he reopened the texting app and typed a second message to her.

  In waiting room. Come find me when you can. Let me know how I can help.

  Of course, she wouldn’t come find him if she didn’t know he was there yet. He held the phone between his hands, waiting, but other than a delivery notification, he received no response. He checked the screen every few seconds, but that didn’t change.

  What was he supposed to do now? She was the one who’d asked him to come. He rubbed his gritty eyes and then shook his head. Obviously, it had been a long night and an even longer morning. For the both of them. She probably had more important things to do right now than to be staring at her phone and waiting for texts from him. Maybe she was talking to her mother’s doctors, grabbing something to eat in the cafeteria or even taking a much-needed nap at Elaine’s bedside.

  He’d never been needy before, and he didn’t intend to start today, no matter how tempted he’d been to call Natalie this morning from the moment he’d left the hospital, lost and alone.

  Leanin
g his head forward, he massaged his temples. He could use a nap himself. He closed his eyes, just to rest them, but when he opened them again, what could only be seconds later, Natalie was marching straight toward him. Her expression was too odd, her movements stiff. He took hold of his chair’s armrests and steadied himself for bad news.

  “Good of you to at least show up here, since this is all your fault.”

  Shane shifted his head back reflexively, as if she’d hit him. It felt as if she had. “What are you talking about, Natalie? Is your mom all right?”

  “No! She’s not all right!”

  Her voice was so sharp that the couple watching a morning talk show on the flat screen on the wall turned back to look.

  He leaned forward and spoke in low tones. “Can you quiet down? Whatever it is, we’ll—”

  “We’ll do nothing. Haven’t you done enough to her?”

  “To Elaine?” He held his hands wide. “I would never do anything to hurt your mother.”

  “You wouldn’t? You already did!” Her voice was louder instead of quieter, and she shook her index finger at him. “You took her everywhere. Our games. The park. The movies. Restaurants.”

  “So?” He shook his head. “Those are all good things. She’s happy. She’s living, just like you said you—”

  “You made her sick!” She shoved her hands back through her hair. “The doctor thinks she has shingles. She’s going to have agonizing pain and an awful rash, and because of her other health issues, they’re going to admit her...”

  “I’m sorry. That stinks, but she’ll be better before you know it.” He reached for her hands, but she jerked them away, crossing them over her chest.

  “You took her all those places, and it kept her from sleeping right and eating right.” Her words came faster, as if she couldn’t stop them.

  “Come on, Natalie. I’m sorry she’s hurting. I would never want her to hurt, but I couldn’t—”

  “You made her do too much. You lowered her resistance, and then you took her to all of those places where she was exposed to more illnesses. She couldn’t fight it off.”

  “Fight it off? Shingles? That virus already had to be inside her since she had chicken pox as a kid.”

  She shook her head. “Illness or stress can reawaken it. And you put her in that position—”

  “So let me get this straight. You’re saying that I made her sick. That it’s all my fault.” Shane knew he should be trying to defuse this situation. Hell, he knew the steps of de-escalation like the back of his hand from his work on the force. But he didn’t want to de-escalate. She didn’t deserve this to go away so easily.

  He shook his head hard. “No. I refuse to accept that. Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Well, I’m sorry your mother is sick. I love your mother. I’m worried about her, too, but it’s ridiculous for you to hold me responsible for her illness.”

  “Why couldn’t you just leave her alone? She would have been fine if you’d just left her at home where she was safe and where she had proper care.”

  “Who would it have been better for, Natalie? Your mother or you?”

  “How dare you!” She waved her index finger so close to his face that she nearly hit him with it. “You know nothing about me or my mother.”

  “I know that you need your mom to stay a patient because if she ever gets her own life, you’ll no longer be able to play the sanctimonious, long-suffering daughter who sacrificed everything to care for her poor, injured mother.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that. And Mom thought the two of you were friends.”

  “I thought you and I were, too, and for that reason I’m telling you this. You should take your own advice and forgive yourself. You were right about me. It was time for me to forgive myself and move on,” he said. “You need to do the same, whether it’s with me or not.”

  He knew he should stop. He’d already said too much. But his words frothed over like a beer poured hot. He couldn’t stop himself any more than she could have slowed her diatribe since marching into the waiting room.

  “Why does it bother you how I treat your mother?” he asked. “You’re worse than I am. You blame her for your having to leave college and changing your major, when you’re the one who made those decisions. In fact, you blame everyone other than yourself for your choices.”

  “You don’t know anything about my choices. Unlike you, I didn’t have any choice.”

  “We always have choices, Natalie, and you chose to stay mad at the two police officers from the accident. Those guys were just doing their job, and you know it. Did they make the right call in that split second? Who knows? But at least they made a decision, and they stood by it. You just look for someone else to blame for yours.

  “You blame them and the accident for stealing your future in music instead of admitting that you didn’t fight for that future because you were a coward,” he said. “Your mom wasn’t a fan of your choice to study music. It made no sense to her. But after the accident, instead of telling her it was something you still had to do, you allowed her to guilt you into making a more practical choice. And then you blamed her for it. Are none of your choices your fault?”

  She planted her hands on her hips and faced off with him. “I’m so glad that one of us has all the answers. Those are rich comments coming from a guy who’s still trying to make up for a mistake he made when he was just a kid. It’s been fifteen years, and you’re still trying to prove that you’re good enough. You still question whether you were worthy of what your mentor did for you.”

  The conversation had been heated until then, and loud enough for a few people to shush them already, but now fury blanketed Shane faster than a heavy snow on the ground. He gritted his teeth so hard his jaws ached.

  “You don’t get to say anything about Kent,” he said. “You don’t know anything about him or the things he’s done for me.” He would have thrown it in her face that she’d denigrated him on the day of his death, but the truth was still too new, too raw. Saying it out loud would be making it true, and he wasn’t ready for that kind of honesty.

  “I know what you’ve told me.”

  “Which was almost none of it.” He brushed his hands over each other, palms down, to demonstrate that the topic was closed. “And if I’m still chasing redemption, what business is it of yours? At least I took responsibility for my decisions instead of blaming them on someone else. At least I’m not too much of a coward to take control of my own life.”

  “Not a coward?”

  She might have quieted for a few minutes, but these words she nearly shouted. Or was it only that they reverberated in his ears? He hoped she would stop there. They’d both said too much already. Things they couldn’t take back. But he knew she would say more just as surely as he recognized there was so much more she could say.

  “If you aren’t a coward, then when are you going to walk again?”

  Shane shoved the foot plates of his chair aside and came to his feet so fast that he nearly barreled over her, but he managed to stop himself. As it was, he stood so close that she had to tilt her chin up to even see his face. She looked as shell-shocked as an accident victim, and the ruddy color of her anger drained from her face, but he was too furious to care. His hands were fisted at his sides, and he had to unclench his jaw just to speak.

  “Whether or not I ever walk again, at least I’m not blaming it on anyone else that my legs don’t move. And, unlike you, I actually have someone I could blame.”

  With that he lowered himself into his chair. It was more of a fall, really, since he’d neglected to lock down his chair’s wheels, but the row of chairs stopped him from a full spinout. He landed on the seat with both of his forearms smacking the armrests with twin thuds.

  Natalie
’s hands went to her face, cupping together to cover her nose and mouth. Slowly, she turned her head back and forth as if for the first time noticing that they had an audience and she’d just berated a man in a wheelchair for his inability to walk. He almost couldn’t believe it himself. That was just the worst of the things she’d said—the things they both had.

  Like they had been all along, the other waiting room guests pretended not to have been watching and listening. Shane didn’t believe them for a second. He would have listened to every word if he’d been in one of those other chairs. And he would have been ready to intervene in case there appeared to be a moment when the verbal exchange would turn violent. Though not a hair on either of their heads had even received a split end in this one, it felt worse. He wished she’d slugged him instead.

  As a signal that other guests hadn’t been the only ones watching, a uniformed security guard stood at the far side of the room, appearing ready to pounce. Before the guard could start their way, Natalie turned back to him and spoke in a low voice.

  “Look, Shane. I didn’t mean—”

  He shook his head to interrupt her. “I just can’t figure you out, Natalie. What are you so scared of? Is it being alone? Or maybe you’re just terrified that someone will leave you again. Is that why you started pushing me away right after we...you know. No, before that. You had my case reassigned. You accused me of being a womanizer when you were the one running away. You even told your mother to avoid me. Now you’re going to desperate lengths to push me away.”

  “You’re wrong.” Still, she crossed her arms over her chest in a move more self-protective than defiant. “Anyway, I’m not pushing—”

  “You blamed me for your mother’s shingles,” he supplied to interrupt her.

  “You’ve got to understand,” she began, her voice rising again. But when she glanced over at the guard, she lowered it. “It’s just that Mom hasn’t been in pain like that since—I was scared.”

  “And upset,” he finished for her. “But I also know that if you didn’t have a strange virus to blame me for, you would have found something else. Some other reason to push me away.”