Just Look Up

by Courtney Walsh

  The door opened and the doctor walked in. “I’ve got the paperwork here, Miss Kelley. But promise me you’ll think about what we discussed. Promise you’ll make some changes.”

  She glanced at Marshall, who stood, dumbfounded, in the corner of the tiny room. “I’ve already started making changes, Doctor. And I already feel one hundred pounds lighter.”

  CHAPTER

  25

  RYAN STOOD IN THE HALLWAY, resisting the urge to go back into Lane’s room. With every glance through the door, he had the distinct impression this guy was upsetting her. How self-absorbed was Marshall not to realize she didn’t need this right now?

  Chloe appeared at his side, also focusing on the tiny glimpse they could see inside the room. “We’re only supposed to have two people back here. I hope they don’t kick us out.”

  “I can go wait in the lobby,” Ryan said.

  “No, it’s fine. Marshall probably won’t stay long anyway.” Chloe sighed. “I’m surprised he even showed up at all.”

  “Is this the first time he’s been here?”

  “Yep.” Chloe crossed her arms and glared into Lane’s room even though Ryan was sure she couldn’t see much of what was going on in there. “Maybe she’ll finally dump him. I don’t know what she ever saw in that guy in the first place.” She looked at Ryan. “She doesn’t think I know they’re a couple, but I know everything there is to know about Lane.”

  The phone in Chloe’s hand buzzed and she glanced down at it. “Sorry; this is Lane’s phone.”

  Chloe tapped around on the phone, just like he’d seen Lane do so many times over the last week.

  “Unbelievable.”

  “What?”

  She turned the phone and showed him a photo of Marshall standing next to a buttoned-up younger guy in a business suit. “That—” she pointed to the younger man—“is the guy who’s been after Lane’s promotion for months.”

  Ryan took the phone and read the caption underneath the photo: After several years of excellent work, JB Sweet is proud to introduce you to our newest creative director, Miles McQuerry. You earned it, Miles. Congrats.

  “Looks like Miles finally got what he wanted.” Chloe snatched the phone back. “Marshall promised her that promotion.”

  The door to Lane’s room opened and Marshall stormed out, shooting Ryan a glare.

  Chloe took a step toward Ryan as if she could somehow protect him, but he wasn’t scared of this guy. He straightened to let Marshall know he wasn’t backing down, and Marshall turned his attention to Chloe.

  “I expect you’ll be back at the office later this afternoon.”

  Chloe frowned. “I want to make sure she’s okay.”

  “She’s going home. If you value your job, you’ll get back to work.” One more pointed look at Ryan and Marshall sauntered away.

  Man, Ryan wanted to punch him.

  “I can’t believe him.” Chloe looked like she was going to cry. “He’s going to keep me there all night.”

  “Sounds like a great place to work.”

  She let out a sigh. “I’m going to check on Lane.”

  “Okay, but maybe don’t tell her about that photo you just saw,” Ryan said.

  Another frown.

  “It might upset her. And right now that’s about the last thing she needs.”

  “You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?” She smiled at him, then opened the door and disappeared inside Lane’s room, leaving Ryan standing in the hallway, whispering prayers that somehow he would have the words to help Lane, no matter what she was going through.

  His grandpa phone buzzed in his back pocket.

  “Hello?”

  “Ryan, where are you?”

  Hailey.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I came over with Jack after school and you weren’t here.”

  “I had to go out of town for a few hours—sorry I didn’t stop by and tell you. What’s going on? You sound upset.”

  The silence on the other end of the line had him worried.

  “It’s Dad.”

  His stomach lurched. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s here, on your front porch. Says he’s not leaving until he talks to you.” Hailey paused. “I thought you didn’t talk to Dad anymore, Ryan. What’s he doing here?”

  “I’ll explain when I get back. Just go back to your place, Hailey. He’ll leave eventually.”

  “I haven’t seen him in a long time.” She said it quietly, as if to herself.

  “And you shouldn’t. Get Jack and go home.”

  “Okay.” Her voice was shaky as though she was remembering things she didn’t want to recall. They’d worked so hard to get him out of their lives—to forget the things he’d done. If the truth came out about the accident—if there was an investigation and an arrest and a trial—it would force them to relive those things all over again.

  He didn’t want that for either of them, yet he didn’t feel inclined to keep his father’s secret, not when his friend’s life hung in the balance. He didn’t owe his dad that. He didn’t owe him anything.

  The door to Lane’s room opened just as a nurse appeared in the hallway with a wheelchair.

  Lane had gotten dressed and now stood right behind Chloe, who seemed determined not to leave her side. She didn’t need a wheelchair; Ryan would just scoop her up and carry her home.

  At the sight of him on his phone, Lane’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Hailey, let me call you back.” He ended the call.

  Panic washed across her face. “You didn’t tell her about me, did you?”

  “No, that was about something else. Are you okay?”

  She smiled despite exhausted eyes. “I’m fine. Honestly.”

  “She’s not fine,” Chloe said. “She needs someone to sit with her and I have to go back to work.”

  “I’ll do it.” Might’ve sounded a tad bit eager with that reply.

  Lane’s eyes found his. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t need someone to sit with me.”

  “Yes, he does,” Chloe said. “I’ll relieve him after work, but I’m not sending you home alone. What if you collapse again?”

  “He has a job. He has a life. He needs to get back to those.” Lane’s dark hair fell long and loose around her shoulders. He wanted to brush it away from her face.

  “He can make up his own mind,” Ryan said, flashing her a smile. “He’s got people covering for him at work and he’s got the whole day off.” Not entirely true, but he’d deal with that later. He motioned for her to sit in the wheelchair. “Your chariot, my dear.”

  Her face went blank. “I am not sitting in that thing.”

  “If you want to get out of here, you are.” The nurse, whose name tag read Donna, gave her a don’t-mess-with-me look.

  Lane sighed.

  “You sure you’ve got her?” Chloe asked.

  Ryan smiled. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Lane turned to her assistant. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  When Chloe hugged her, Lane stiffened, then eventually hugged her back. “Thanks, Chloe.”

  “He’s a keeper, Lane,” Chloe whispered, not very quietly, before she released Lane. She looked at Ryan. “I’ll be over after work.”

  He nodded at her and she clicked off down the hall. Lane turned to face him. He gave the wheelchair a gentle push, and she finally sat down, purse in her lap.

  Ryan pushed her through the hallways with Donna following close behind. Once they were outside, Lane stood and spoke to the nurse. “I’m good to go now, right?”

  Donna glared at Lane. “I don’t want to see you back here, young lady.” She shook a finger in Lane’s face. “That means you need to take better care of yourself. You hear me?”

  Lane hugged her purse like a child clutching a worn-out teddy bear. She bowed her head. “I hear you.”

  “Good.” She glanced at Ryan. “You take care of your girl, you hear me?”

  Ryan nodded. “You can count
on it.”

  Donna scooted her way behind the wheelchair, spun it around, and plodded away.

  “You obviously don’t have to come to my place,” Lane said.

  “Are you afraid I’ll find out what a slob you are?” He grinned at her.

  “I’m actually very neat.” They started walking toward the parking lot. “I just don’t want to waste any more of your time.”

  “That’s the thing,” Ryan said. “It’s my time. So I get to decide if it’s a waste or not.” He led her toward the spot where he’d parked his motorcycle earlier in the day.

  “I can take care of myself. Everyone is overreacting.” She stopped beside Ryan’s bike.

  “I’m not so sure they are.” He handed her a helmet. “Besides, I promised Chloe.”

  Lane heaved a sigh—very dramatically—and put the helmet on. “You’re such a Boy Scout.”

  “I take that as a compliment.” He put his own helmet on, swung his leg over the bike, and helped her on. “You’re okay to ride on this, right? You’re not going to pass out?”

  She smacked his shoulder, then wrapped her arms around him. He sat for a second, marking the moment in his mind. He could get used to the way it felt to have her this close. Easily.

  After navigating the city streets, he parked in front of her complex, an old, nondescript brick building with rows and rows of windows.

  Somewhere between the hospital and here, she’d laid her head on his back—maybe too tired to keep it upright?—and now she shifted, pulling away from him. He noticed her absence and immediately wished they could rewind time.

  She stood next to his bike, holding the helmet. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He kicked the stand down and got off the bike. “Lead the way.”

  No matter how many times he told her, she seemed incapable of believing he wasn’t going to just drop her on the curb and go. Obviously she wasn’t used to letting anyone else take care of her.

  She led him toward the door of her building and into the elevator. She pushed the button for the sixth floor and the door closed.

  Lane stood against the back wall of the elevator. Her eyes had lost a little of their luster, her skin was pale, and those dark circles only seemed darker.

  “When was the last time you slept?” he asked.

  She lifted her eyes to his. “Day before yesterday, I think.”

  “And ate?”

  She shrugged.

  “Do you seriously not remember?”

  “I’ve been really busy, Ryan.”

  Something about her seemed so fragile, he decided not to push it. He wouldn’t judge her. He’d simply help her get better. The elevator doors opened to a hallway with only four doors in it. She walked over to the second one—a barn door on a track—inserted her key, and pulled it open.

  The sound of her dog’s toenails clicking on the hardwood floor broke the silence.

  Lane picked up the dog and hugged him. “Otis! Are you surprised to see me so early?”

  As Lane reunited with Otis, Ryan looked around her loft. Light streamed in from the two walls of windows, illuminating the space. Brick walls had been painted white, keeping everything light and airy. It reminded him of the images Betsy had shown him of Lane’s work—homey, cozy, cottagey. She could’ve gone sleek and modern with this kind of space, but she hadn’t. Maybe she did carry a part of Harbor Pointe with her, whether she knew it or not.

  “Wow, this place is incredible,” he said, taking it in.

  She set Otis down and the dog came over to Ryan and sniffed his shoes. “Thanks.”

  “I’m guessing you designed it yourself.” He stopped near the desk and noticed a wall of awards on display behind it. This many awards and it still wasn’t enough.

  “Yes, it was empty and bare when I moved in.” She closed her eyes for several seconds. “I think I need to lie down.”

  He took her bag from her and set it on the table near the front door.

  “I should check the mail.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Ryan followed her to the rear of the loft, where a large bed with a crisp white comforter was situated behind a short privacy wall. He pulled the covers back and Lane sat down. She started to protest when he knelt in front of her to take off her shoes, but he gave her a look that shut her up.

  She scooted her legs underneath the blankets, laid her head down on the pillow, and closed her eyes.

  He quietly went over to the windows and drew the blinds, though there was still so much light coming in from the other room. When he turned to go, he heard the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.

  It had only been seconds and already she’d fallen asleep.

  He pulled the covers over her and watched her sleep—just for a moment. He thought about Nate, still in a coma, still fighting for his life, with a waiting room full of people who had to take shifts for a chance to see him. Lane’s collapse had been the exact opposite. Her own boyfriend hadn’t shown up at the hospital until hours after she’d gotten there.

  He needed to get back to Harbor Pointe—to the cottages, to his sister—but he couldn’t leave Lane. Not when there was no one here to take care of her. He called Jerry and ran through the plans for the next few days.

  “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?” his contractor asked.

  “Hoping to, but can’t be sure. I know the timing is terrible, but you guys can handle it, right?”

  “’Course. We’ve done eleven others; we’ve got this. You take care of what you need to take care of.”

  The man didn’t ask any more questions, and Ryan hoped when he returned to Cedar Grove, he’d find his absence hadn’t slowed them down.

  Around 9 p.m., Chloe let herself in to Lane’s loft at a manic pace.

  “I’m so sorry it’s so late. I know you’ve got to get back home.” She dropped her bag on the floor near the sofa, where he and Otis sat, watching SportsCenter and drifting off.

  “You’re half-asleep,” she said. “I knew Marshall was going to make me stay late—probably just to spite me because Lane quit and everything.”

  “Wait. What?” Ryan muted the television.

  “She didn’t tell you?” Chloe stopped moving for the first time since she’d come in.

  “She fell asleep seconds after we got here and hasn’t moved since.”

  Chloe walked over to the bed and peeked in on Lane, then returned, shaking her head. “She probably hasn’t actually slept in days.”

  “I’m getting the impression she really doesn’t take very good care of herself.”

  Chloe plopped down in the chair across from where he sat. “That is an understatement. She’s the most driven person I know, though. It’s inspiring.”

  “It’s crazy.”

  “Same thing.” She smiled.

  “Did she really quit her job?” He couldn’t imagine Lane leaving something that meant so much to her.

  “I’m kind of hoping she’ll wake up tomorrow and realize it was a huge mistake.”

  “Was it, though?” Ryan didn’t say so, but he hoped she woke up feeling completely free. No job should keep a person chained like hers did. Less work, more life—that was his motto.

  “Of course it was. Lane is a rock star at what she does. She’s the creative force behind almost everything Marshall puts out there. She’s the reason he looks so good to JB.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?” Chloe leaned forward. “What are you thinking?”

  “Maybe Marshall didn’t promote her because he was scared to lose her. I mean, if she makes him look good—why would he let her get away? I’m betting he’ll be begging her to come back by morning.”

  “I don’t know. He was really angry.”

  “He’ll get over it. That was just his ego.”

  Chloe stood and headed to the kitchen. “Did you find something to eat? Lane doesn’t keep much in the house.”

  “I got some groceries.”

  �
�You did?” She opened the door of the newly stocked refrigerator and glanced inside. “Wow, you did.” She turned to face him. “You probably don’t want to drive home now, do you?”

  “I’m going to stay till she wakes up.”

  Chloe eyed him. “What’s the deal with you two?”

  “There is no deal. We’re old friends.”

  “So, what was she like—you know, before she was kicking butt and taking names? Was she always amazing? Everyone at work wants to be her, you know.”

  “I’m sure she’s told you about her childhood.”

  Chloe’s eyebrows popped up. “Um. No. I found out last week that she had a brother. She doesn’t talk about herself. Ever.”

  At his side, Otis twitched in his sleep. Ryan let a hand rest softly on the animal, thinking about how much the small dog meant to Lane. Next to Chloe, the dog was probably her only true friend in this life she’d built for herself. With her carefully constructed wall of protection and her everything-in-its-place set of rules, Lane had created a world where she’d never be hurt again.

  Like him, she’d put her past behind her, but unlike him, she’d run away from her past and just kept running. The people in her life knew only what she allowed them to know, which, from the sound of it, wasn’t much.

  Instead of seeing the gift she had in her childhood, in her family, she saw only the pain. The realization set something off within him. He wanted to give her back everything she thought she’d lost—everything that was waiting for her if she’d just open her eyes.

  But he had no idea where to begin with someone so fragile.

  “Ryan?”

  Chloe’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Sorry. To answer your question, yes, she was always amazing.”

  “I knew it.” Chloe grinned.

  “She just didn’t know it for herself.”

  CHAPTER

  26

  SUNLIGHT STREAMED through the cracks in her blinds, pulling Lane out of a deep, deep sleep. She rolled over in bed, the foggy memories of what had happened slowly returning.