Cleo pointed. “Down the hall on the left. Room Nine Twenty One.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze swept blankly over me as they turned the corner and hurried down the hall, retracing the steps I’d just walked.
I slid my hands into my pockets and watched as they scanned the room numbers then disappeared into Alexis’ room. I stared at the now empty hallway. It seemed my work here was done. An emotion I couldn’t define tugged in my chest.
I walked over to the elevator and pushed the down button. The car hadn’t moved and the doors swept open. I stepped into the elevator and turned to face the doors. From the desk, Cleo still watched me over her readers, a slight frown wrinkling her forehead. I lifted my hand in farewell, just as the doors slid shut.
Her voice slipped through the crack as the car began its descent. “God bless you, young man.”
Chapter Thirteen
I cried when I opened my eyes and mom and dad were standing in my room. I might be a grown up and living in New York, but I would always need them. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to Oliver. I kept looking toward the door, expecting him to walk in at any minute, but the hours crept by and he was nowhere to be seen. I tried to ignore the little bubble of fear in my stomach that grew with each hour. It wasn’t until the next day that I forced myself to admit he’d left without saying goodbye. And in doing that I knew I would never see him again.
That made me cry too.
“ONE MORE LOOP around the floor and then we’re going to kick you out of here.” Dana, the morning nurse, smiled at me. “Time for you to go home.”
My mom jumped up. “I’ll help you, Lexie.”
It was the day after Christmas and Oliver had never returned. I’d asked the nurses if they’d seen him, but they changed shifts every few hours and those who had been working on Christmas Eve and Christmas day were off now and the new shift didn’t know who I was talking about. I told my mom and dad all about him, but a few times I caught the looks they gave each other and I could tell they thought I’d imagined him in some drug-induced dream.
I exhaled and rolled on my side, preparing for the pain I knew would come with moving. But each time got easier and I was able to navigate—albeit slowly—with my crutches so that I could manage.
We had almost completed the circle and returned to my room when I stopped by the nurse’s station to catch my breath. God – how could walking this short distance possibly be so exhausting? There was a cute little Christmas tree they’d decorated and with a twinge of longing I imagined our big tree at home. Only a few more days and I would be there.
“Lexie, look.” My mom pointed to the tree. “There’s a gift with your name on it.”
“What? I doubt that.” I peered closer at the pile of gifts. “Those are just decorative. They’re not really for anyone.”
My mom reached down and picked up a small rectangular package. “Look—it says Alexis West right there.” She turned to me. “Do you think there are two people with your name on this floor?”
“No. But maybe the nurses just put the patient’s name on them for fun.” I reached for the package. “Besides, who could it be from?”
“Santa, of course.”
I turned at the husky voice that spoke from the nurse’s station. A middle-aged nurse sat at a computer watching us, her stethoscope around her neck, red readers perched on her nose.
“Go ahead,” she nodded at me. “Open it up, Alexis.”
“Uh…okay.” I propped my crutches against my sides like a triangle and turned the package over in my hands. It was still awkward to function with my arm in a cast but I was getting better at it. The present was wrapped in red and white striped paper with a red bow on top. My name had been printed in bold letters directly on the wrapping paper.
I slid my fingers under the taped edges and opened it without ripping the paper. Inside was a beautifully bound book, with a royal blue cover and a white decorative lace scroll cover over that.
“Isn’t that lovely.” My mother peered at it curiously. “What’s the title, dear?”
I turned the book over and glanced at the spine but it only had more white swirls at the top and bottom.
“There isn’t one.” I opened the cover and stared. A handwritten note was centered on what had once been a blank page:
Take a leap of faith—
The future is unwritten
Oliver. I fanned the rest of the pages of the book but they were all blank—waiting to be filled up. Waiting to be written. I clutched the book to my chest as two hot tears ran down my cheeks. I’d never been given a more precious gift.
“What a thoughtful gift,” my mother said. “Who knows you well enough to leave something like that for you?” She peered at me curiously.
It wasn’t until the moment I held that book in my hands that I realized I didn’t know Oliver’s last name. I had no way to track him down to thank him. I handed her the book so I could use my crutches to return to my room. My body was shaking and I was pretty sure my one good leg was about to give out. “Probably my night nurse. He was especially nice.”
Chapter Fourteen
At six a.m. the day after Christmas, JFK, LaGuardia and Newark opened back up to planes arriving and departing. After several hours on the phone I finally got through to my airline and managed to book a flight to Paris at nine o’clock that night. I slept until it was time to go to the airport and then I slept the entire way to Paris.
It had been a relief to leave the hospital and return to my own life. I was glad that Alexis’ parents had arrived, yet somehow, I felt empty too, as if I’d lost something important. I chalked it up to exhaustion.
IT WAS NIGHT when I landed. The Eiffel Tower was lit up, so familiar—like coming home, though Paris wasn’t where I’d grown up. I hadn’t been to my real home in over six years.
“OLIVER!” SIMONE RAISED her hand and waved in my direction. I waved back and hurried toward her. It still surprised me each time we were apart how beautiful she was when I saw her again. “Finally, you are here!” she cried in her accented English, sweeping me into an embrace. She planted her lips on mine and gave me a good French kiss.
After a few moments we made our way to baggage claim, my arm over her shoulder, her hand in my back pocket. It was as if all the craziness of the last few days had been a bad dream and I’d found myself awake in the real world again.
“Now tell me, Oliver, why are you wearing your sunglasses indoors?” she asked in a teasing voice. “Are you a celebrity now? Like Bono?”
“Hardly.” I pulled my sunglasses down enough so she could see my two black eyes.
“Oh my God,” she gasped and jerked to a stop, cupping my face in her hands. “What has happened to you? Were you in a fight?”
“A fight with a cab and another car—and I lost.” I told her the story of the accident, leaving out the part about Alexis. It didn’t really seem pertinent and unnecessarily complicated what was a simple explanation.
“Oh my poor bebe.” Simone cooed in my ear, then kissed each side of my face. “I will make you feel better when we get home.”
TECHNICALLY, SIMONE AND I didn’t live together because she lived in France and I lived in New York. But I did travel to Paris every few months on business and the last few times I’d stayed at her apartment rather than at a hotel. I hadn’t admitted it to her, but it was an experiment for me. I’d been in one or two serious relationships during college but had always moved on within a few months. I didn’t want to be bothered with the emotional commitment a serious relationship took. Now, my job kept me busy enough.
But my arrangement with Simone—with her in Paris and me in the States—was a nice balance. I didn’t get claustrophobic and she knew I couldn’t move to Paris, so it was a win/win situation. Staying with her when I was there took our relationship to the next level without having to make any kind of formal commitment. Also, in Paris, she was far less needy. So far, it had been perfect.
I ROLLED MY suitcase into her bedr
oom and eyed the plump mattress with longing. I might have slept on the plane, but it wasn’t good, restful sleep. Simone followed, talking the whole time.
“Oliver, I’ve missed you so much. My life has been crazy these last few weeks. I had a photo shoot with Xavier Bellows, do you remember….”
I held my arms out and fell backwards onto the bed. Simone was still chattering when I fell asleep.
I WAS IN my clothes, lying on top of the covers, when I awoke. Simone was tucked in under the blankets next to me, sound asleep. I could tell by the blue light filtering through the shutters that it was very early in the morning.
As I lay relaxed against the pillows, I allowed myself, for the first time since I’d left New York, to think about Alexis. I wondered how she was doing. She was probably out of the hospital by now—maybe even on a plane home to Seattle. I wondered if she’d found her present. It had been a silly thing to do. Even now, I was embarrassed at my spontaneity. She’d just been so wounded. Like a little bird with a broken wing who needed to be taken care of until somebody who mattered showed up to take over. And they had. It was obvious her parents loved her very much. There was nothing left I needed to do. Still—I couldn’t shake that strange sense of loss.
I reached up and gently rubbed my fingers over the knot on my forehead. It was barely noticeable. Even my headache was gone.
Next to me, Simone stirred. She curled up next to me and threw and arm over my chest.
“Oliver,” she said in a sleepy voice, “why are you still dressed and on top of the bed?” She curved her lips in cute little pouty face. “I’m cold and I need you to warm me up.”
I didn’t hesitate. I needed a distraction so I would stop thinking about a girl I would never see again.
IT WAS AT breakfast that Simone told me her news.
“I’ve been ready to burst with holding it all in,” she said, clutching my hand across the table. I raised my eyebrows at her theatrics. Her skin was the color of ivory, a stark contrast to the black of her hair, a popular look in Paris. It was rare that I got to see Simone without the heavy black eye makeup she liked to wear. She was striking in the most breathtaking sort of way—all sharp angles and edges with a bold nose. A true Parisian. I could never imagine Simone with children.
I freed my hand and took a sip of my espresso. “What could possibly be that exciting?”
“I have signed with the Ford Modeling Agency. I’m moving to New York in April.”
Chapter Fifteen
We landed in Seattle the next evening. The sky was overcast and rainy, which was a perfect reflection of my mood. I was happy to be home and looking forward to seeing my little sister, Jessie, who had just graduated from college and was living at home until she found a job. But in the bigger picture, I wanted to cry because I knew this was a turning point in my life and I was headed in the wrong direction. Would I ever escape again?
NANDINI AND I texted each other every day. She was my best friend and the only connection to my old life. She’d been outraged that I’d not thought to text her when I was in the hospital. “Who do you call if you do not call your best friend?” I blamed it on the morphine and she finally accepted that excuse. Besides, what other choice did she have? I hadn’t mentioned Oliver.
MY FOURTH NIGHT back, I called her. Her phone was already ringing before I realized it was midnight in New York.
“Why the hell are you calling me at this hour? Has someone died?”
“Sorry. I forget what time it was back there. Should I call tomorrow?”
“So you can wake me up then?”
The truth was, I knew she had just gotten home from work so it wasn’t like I’d woken her up or anything. “What’s new?” I asked.
“Richard has installed a mirror by the warming shelves so we can check our hair before we go back on the floor.”
I gulped. “Really?” Even three thousand miles away I felt guilty. “That seems a bit extreme.”
“It’s Richard we’re talking about here. Extreme is his middle name and when are you going to get your lazy ass back here, Alexis? I miss you. I hope to God you are writing that damn book while you are lying around all day pretending to have broken bones.”
It was so nice to hear her familiar voice. I missed New York and Nandini and my old life. I wondered if Oliver had gone to Paris to see the Beast.
ALMOST FIVE WEEKS had passed since I’d returned home. Mom and Dad paid the rent on my apartment in New York for January. They were waiting to tackle the subject of me staying in Seattle and I knew they wouldn’t hold off much longer. I was back to normal and would soon have my casts off. I could not put off the inevitable conversation much longer.
Though I enjoyed being back in Seattle I also felt rootless—like an air plant drifting on the wind. It was nice to see my family and a few friends again, but most had left town after high school and I was anxious to return to New York. Deep inside, I couldn’t let go of the idea that I might see Oliver again. Like I had any chance of seeing him again in a city of twenty million people. He, no doubt, lived in some swanky condo on the Upper West Side while I lived in a matchbox downtown. I needed to focus on the fact that we were mutually exclusive—our circles didn’t intersect and that he probably hadn’t given me a second thought since he’d walked out that hospital door.
Nandini texted. Jason and Robert quit. Richard is desperate. I’m going to ask him if he’ll take you back.
I’d laughed out loud at that idea. First I have to get my casts off. Richard would have a heart attack if I came to work looking like I do now. I included a picture of my current condition with my text and we laughed about the endless array of possible disasters I could create at work.
IT WAS A Wednesday when my mom and I headed to Dr. Bennett’s office. They replaced my leg cast with a walking boot cast and told me that on my next visit both casts would come off. I still wouldn’t be able to drive but it was a small bit of freedom. I was ready to chuck those crutches right off the Brooklyn Bridge. Make that the Aurora Bridge. I had to remember which city I was in.
“How are things going at the hardware store?” I asked as we drove into Seattle.
“Funny you should ask,” my mom replied. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”
“Really?” I looked over at the side of her face. “What’s up?”
“Well, you know your father has been wanting to expand the business for a few years now. He’s talked to the accountant and they’ve gone over the numbers a thousand times, but the safest way to do it is to bring in a partner.”
“You’re kidding? Dad’s going to bring a partner into the family business?” I was shocked. Dad loved that store. I couldn’t see him sharing it with just anyone.
“We’ve been talking about it for a long time, and he’s spoken to a number of business brokers in town. As luck would have it—he’s found the perfect match.”
“Seriously—Dad’s taking on a partner?”
My mom looked over at me and smiled. “Isn’t it exciting?” But there was something in her expression that didn’t totally convince me. The skin at the back of my neck prickled in warning.
“Who is it?”
“Lexie, you’re never going to believe it.”
“Who?”
“Why, it’s Ryan Leeds. You know, he worked at the store during the summer in both high school and college. Sometimes I think he knows the business as well as your father does.”
My stomach did a slow roll. Ryan Leeds. The past I’d run away from when I’d gone to New York.
Oblivious to my silence, or maybe because of it, my mom kept talking. “Plus, he’s got a business degree from the University of Washington now and when his poor mother passed last year I guess she left him quite an inheritance and he’s interested in investing in the store. Besides, you know your father always had a soft spot for Ryan.”
Ryan Leeds. My first love. I’d dated him my junior and senior years in high school and the first two years of college. I’d pract
iced spelling my future name, Alexis Leeds, a thousand times before we’d agreed to take a break the summer before our junior year.
Ryan Leeds—the asshole who had gotten a girl pregnant a week after we’d decided to ‘take a break’. He’d had the grace to tell me two weeks before she’d given birth. You’d think on a campus of 45,000 students I’d never run into him again—but you’d be wrong.
Ryan Leeds—the boy who had broken my heart—was going to be my father’s future business partner?
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” My voice didn’t sound like me. It was low and choked and sounded like I might throw up. I’d heard Ryan and his baby-mama were divorced right after college. By then, I’d moved away. I’d ignored his repeated calls over the last year until I finally changed my cell number.
His mistake was not going to be my mistake.
My mom ignored the weird way my voice sounded and kept talking. “It turns out he was looking for a business to invest in and…” her words died off and she shot a glance my way. “Well, it just seemed like the perfect fit. Your dad is very excited about the idea.” She reached over and patted my arm. “I told him we should talk to you first but he seemed sure that since it had been over three years since you and Ryan had broken up that you’d be fine with it. You’re not upset are you, Lex?”
“No.” I kept my voice perfectly level. “Not at all. If Dad thinks he can trust someone like Ryan…”
“Good, honey, because he’s coming for dinner.”
Chapter Sixteen
ALMOST FIVE WEEKS had passed since Simone had shocked me with the news that she was moving to New York. Apparently my stunned reaction was not what she had been expecting or hoping for, because she was in tears more than once during my brief visit to Paris.
Unwritten Page 5
