Never Standing Still

by Anie Michaels

  I came hard, loud, and long. And it was glorious. It wasn’t just a release of a sexual nature, but also a release of all the bullshit I’d been carrying around with me for years. I hadn’t known it before that moment, but Riot had always been the key, and I was finally unlocked.

  “I love you,” I managed to rasp out while coming down from my incredible orgasm, watching his eyes as he continued to slide in and out of me.

  “I love you too,” he responded just before he buried his face in my neck and found his own release.

  It was hours later and the afternoon sun was sinking lower in the sky as we laid in his bed enjoying each other. I watched as the light slowly dwindled, his fingers making slow and lazy circles on my back, my front draped over his chest. His caramel eyes stared at me, crinkled at the very corners with a slight smile. His other hand came up and he ran his fingers very loosely through my hair, making my eyes close.

  When I drifted off to sleep in his arms, it was possibly the first, and definitely the last, moment I had of true contentment.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Slipping Away

  I woke up to darkness, a little confused as to what dragged me from sleep, but felt Riot’s arm wrapped around me, holding my back to his front, his feet tangled beneath the sheets with mine. Then I heard the faint buzzing from the living room through the thin walls of his apartment.

  Even though it might have been easy to fall back asleep, there was a voice in the back of my mind telling me get up and find my phone, and the voice instructing me to do so sounded panicked and urgent. Even though my body was still trying to fully wake up, my heart started thundering in my chest and my hands were shaking as I pulled the covers back and slid out of Riot’s bed.

  I found my purse where it had been dropped yesterday as Riot carried me into the bedroom and saw a light flashing inside from my phone. I pulled it out and swiped the screen and my heart jumped into my throat when I saw I had over twenty missed calls and just as many text messages. All from Nancy.

  My fingers trembled as I pressed the phone icon to return her call, and it seemed like it took forever for the call to connect. Finally I heard ringing, and a few seconds later I heard Nancy’s frail and frantic voice.

  “Kalli?” She said by way of greeting, and I could tell she was crying.

  “What’s wrong, Nancy?”

  “Oh, Kalli,” she sobbed. “You need to come back to Seattle. It’s Marcus.”

  “What happened? Is he all right?”

  “No, he’s not all right. He’s in the ICU at Seattle Children’s Hospital and you need to get here as soon as possible.” I heard her continue to sob, my mouth slack, pulse frantic. I heard muffled noises and then Bob was on the line.

  “Kalli,” he said softly. I could hear Nancy in the background still crying and I could find no words. “We took Marcus to the park to ride his bike after dinner. He’d had sort of a rough day and Nancy thought if he got some of his energy out he’d calm down and sleep better. But when it was time to leave he didn’t want to go. He started to become slightly combative and when we tried to convince him to calm down he took off on his bike, not stopping at the sidewalk and rode right into the street.”

  I knew where the rest of the words were going to take me. I knew exactly the words Bob would say, but I wasn’t strong enough to hear them, so I dropped the phone and just started saying, “No,” over and over again. My voice got louder as my panic took over, my fear and grief overshadowing my awareness of my volume.

  Riot was at my side, asking me what was the matter, and when he finally picked up the phone, he heard the words I couldn’t take in, and I watched as his face paled in the moonlight, as the pain filled his eyes, and I knew for sure Marcus was slipping away.

  Without much help from me, Riot took us both to the airport and got us on a flight back to Washington. I was practically catatonic. I knew once I opened the gate to my emotions, I’d drown in them. Riot tried constantly to comfort me by touching me, holding my hand, but I pulled away. Any emotion was unwelcome, even if it was love. Perhaps especially because it was love.

  I was both anxious to get to Marcus, but also dreading it. I couldn’t be sure what I would find when we got to the hospital, but I knew it wasn’t going to be a few scratches and bruises. It was more substantial than that; more devastating.

  The plane landed and I let Riot get us a cab to the hospital and then soon I found myself walking into the pediatric ICU. I gave them my name, then gave them Marcus’ name, and was taken to his room.

  I first saw Bob standing outside the room in the hallway, leaning back against the wall, head hanging low, body looking tired. When he heard our footsteps approaching he looked up and our eyes met.

  “Kalli, thank God you’re here,” he said stepping toward me. I held out my hand, motioning for him to not come too close.

  The nurse turned to me and said, “This is Marcus’ room and he’s resting comfortably. I’ve alerted the doctor that you’re here and he’ll be by shortly to answer any questions you have.” She looked back and forth between Bob, Riot, and me, and then added, “There’re only two visitors allowed at a time.” With that, she gave a sad smile and returned to her station.

  “Nancy’s waiting for you in there,” Bob said, quietly. I nodded and then walked toward the door, pushed it open slowly, and walked inside.

  I was greeted with all manner of beeping and machines, the glow of computer screens illuminating the room, and the sight of my baby brother lying in an uncomfortable-looking bed, nearly unrecognizable.

  His face was swollen, with gauze wrapped around most of his head, leaving only the oval of his chin to his forehead visible. He still looked like the boy I loved, just broken.

  When Nancy turned to look at me, I saw all the heartbreak I’d heard on the phone, and when she stood, walking toward me, I couldn’t keep her at bay. Didn’t want to. I let her hug me and cry into my shoulder and listened to her tell me she was sorry over and over again.

  “He rode his bike into the street and in a flash he was hit by the truck,” she sobbed. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have had him out that late. The sun was setting and it was starting to get dark. We’d been arguing with him, trying to get him to come home with us, so I’d unbuckled his helmet.” She let loose a round of sobs, gut-wrenching cries that I’d only ever heard from myself when I learned my mother had died. The kind of cries where one lost a part of one’s soul. “I’m so sorry,” she said through the sobs.

  For a few minutes we just stood there, holding each other, and I wasn’t sure who was getting more comfort from whom. I was holding on to her because she was all that was keeping me upright, but I felt like she would collapse without me, too. There was nothing for either one of us to do except be with the other, so that was what we did.

  Finally, a man in a white lab coat came in and introduced himself as Marky’s doctor, said he was a pediatric neurologist. Once all the introductions were made, he wasted no time at all telling me something I never thought I’d hear.

  “Your brother has suffered a major head trauma and, unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any brain activity.”

  The tears came hot and hard, stinging my eyes as I listened to the man tell me something I never wanted to know.

  “Now, usually, in cases like these, we’d give the brain some time to heal, let the body calm down a little before making any rash decisions about care, but your brother isn’t lucky enough to be afforded that luxury. You see, along with his brain damage, he’s had significant internal injuries as well. His body is shutting down.”

  I looked over at Marcus, lying so peacefully in that bed, trying to see what the doctor was telling me, trying to find something I could hold on to that was tangible. Sure, he looked banged up, but surely, surely, he could wake up from this. We’d dealt with obstacles before; we could handle this as long as we were together, as long as he was here for me to take care of.

  “I’m sorry to tell you there’s probably o
nly a matter of hours left.” The doctor said the words with such finality, such irrevocability, but I shook my head regardless.

  “This can’t be the end,” I managed. “He’s so strong, he’s been through so much already, I know he can pull through.”

  “I wish there was something we could do. I know this must be difficult.”

  His words sounded sincere, he was doing everything he was supposed to be doing, but I couldn’t help but think his sympathy was rehearsed. My mind wasn’t thinking logically and was only trying to find a reality in which Marcus lived.

  “I want a second opinion,” I said, flatly.

  “I can put in a call to our other resident neurologist, but I’ll warn you, Marcus might not make it long enough for someone to see him. I think it’s best you use this time to be with your brother. I’ll put the call in right away.”

  The doctor left the room and I turned to Nancy. “They’re wrong. I know he’ll be fine.”

  “Sweetie,” Nancy said in her best mom voice. “Why don’t you just sit with him and talk to him. He needs to hear your voice right now.”

  I looked anxiously at the chair Nancy had been in, which was sitting at Marky’s bedside. It looked too much like a scene in a movie, too much like loss and heartache, but deep down inside I knew he needed me to be there with him. I didn’t want to believe this was the day I’d lose my brother, but I’d be damned if he felt like he was alone when the time came.

  So I sat down and reached for his hand, trying to block out all the wires and beeping that surrounded him, and just tried to focus on Marky. My little brother. The boy who’d brought so much happiness to my life for the last seventeen years. The very last piece remaining of my life before destruction. His hand was warm, but limp, and it lay heavily in my own.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said, more tears trailing down my face. I couldn’t find the right words in that moment, couldn’t figure out what you were supposed to say to the most important person in your life as they slipped away from you. So, I just started at the beginning.

  “The day you were born was the most magical day of my life. All throughout Mom’s pregnancy I was so anxious to meet you, so excited to hold a little baby.” I used my other hand to wipe my nose and then laughed a little when Nancy was suddenly beside me with a tissue. I gave her a weak smile, but then turned back to my brother.

  “Mom wouldn’t let me in the hospital room because she thought I would be scarred by seeing a birth, but I sat just outside the door, waiting to hear you cry. When you finally made your grand entrance, you were squawking and wailing, and you were loud.” I smiled at the memory, remembering the hard floor under me and the nurses who kept walking past the room, giving me curious glances, unaccustomed to girls sitting on their floors.

  “I heard you cry and I immediately jumped up and burst into the room. You were lying on Mom’s chest and just crying. I made it to you and Mom and saw the look of amazement on her face. Your dad was there, right by her side, smiling with tears in his eyes, obviously so excited to meet you.”

  My voice cracked again and I looked down into my lap, remembering the best day of my life. “He looked at me too,” I cried. “He looked at me and said, ‘You’ve got a baby brother. We’re all a family now.’ And it was true,” I sobbed. “You brought us all together and you gave me something I’d never had before. Unconditional and pure love. You united all of us and I’ll never have enough ways or words to thank you for that, Marky.”

  In the back of my mind I heard the door open and close, and knew Nancy had left us alone, but I couldn’t look away from my brother.

  “For seven years you were the brightest light in all of our lives, and I know Mom and Dad were so in love with you. They’d be so proud of you, and I know they’re going to be waiting for you, they’re going to be there to take care of you, Marky.” I lost all sense of composure, unable to see through the fat tears spilling from my eyes, unable to speak for the loud sobs coming from me. I was drowning in so many things I couldn’t have put my thoughts in order had I tried.

  I would be lost without him. No purpose, no reason, no existence. He was it. He had been it for so long, I couldn’t fathom moving forward without Marcus. And also, there was a part of me, and I couldn’t measure how big a part of me at that moment, that wanted to go with him, wanted to protect him through the scary and unknown. I wanted to be there to see my mother on the other side. I wanted to know with certainty that he would be safe and cared for.

  “I know you can hear me, Marky,” I said through the sobs. “Mom is waiting for you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  I swallowed hard, waiting for my tears to subside, waiting for some sort of calm to wash over me, but it never did.

  “I love you, Marcus. And I’m sorry I never told you before now. I’m sorry I couldn’t say the words, but I know you felt it. I love you more than anything. Don’t be afraid.”

  All my words were filled with tears, said between halted breaths, pushed out with cries. But I never left him. I stayed by his side, telling him I loved him, until finally, the beeping slowed and his chest stopped moving.

  When I watched him take his last breath, his chest barely rising, then falling, I willed my heart to stop right along with his, for someone to let me go with him.

  Chapter Twenty

  My Most Prized Possession

  I heard the door creak open, pulling me from the heaviest and most exhausting sleep I’d ever experienced. Every time I slept it was almost like it drained more energy from me instead of recharging my batteries.

  It had been three days since Marcus passed. Three of the longest and most agonizing days I could remember. After all the beeping had stopped and I was sure Marcus was gone, I stayed in his room holding him, hugging him. Nurses came in and declared him dead, quietly noting the time of his death, and I just rocked him back and forth.

  At some point Nancy came in and I let her hold him, then we held each other. The staff was very accommodating and let us stay a few hours, but eventually they told us they had to take his body away.

  I kissed his forehead and told him I loved him, and then somehow found the strength to leave him behind. Everything after that was a blur to me. I know Riot was there, but I couldn’t talk to him, didn’t have anything to say to him.

  Somehow I got home and I went to bed. And there I’d stayed until someone creaked open my door. One of my eyes opened and I saw the silhouette of a slender woman in the doorway, but when she turned I saw her belly was rounded and I knew it was Ella. I blinked, trying to make sure I was really seeing her in my room, confused because she’d never been there before.

  She closed the door behind her, but didn’t flip on the overhead light. Instead, she came to my bed, sitting on the edge, and turned on the small lamp on my bedside table.

  “Kalli?” she whispered, trying to wake me gently.

  “Ella, what are you doing here? How’d you get here?”

  “Well,” she said, tucking some hair behind my ear, making me inwardly cringe because I knew my hair had to be a greasy mess. “Riot looked up Tilly’s restaurant on the Internet, called her, got Porter’s phone number, and here I am.” Her voice was soft, so maternal. I had a brief moment of admiring how good of a mother she already was. “He’s worried about you, Kal. We all are.”

  “We?”

  “Megan’s here, so is Porter. Although, he’s not here here. He’s back at the hotel. He didn’t want to crowd you.” She paused, just looking at me. “And Riot’s still here.”

  My breath caught. “I can’t see him, Ella. I just can’t. Please, tell him to go back to LA.”

  “He just wants to talk to you,” she said, trying to soothe me by running a hand down my arm. I couldn’t say anything more; I knew if I tried to say anything about Riot I would burst into tears, so I just kept my mouth shut. “Can you tell me about your brother?”

  My brain flooded with images of Marcus: him as a baby, watching him sleep wrapped in a light blue blanket, watching
him learn to walk, riding a bike for the first time. I tried not to picture him in the hospital bed, tried to keep my mind from torturing me that way, but it was inevitable. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to think of Marcus again without remembering rocking his cooling body in a hospital bed.

  “I’m sorry I never told you about him,” I managed, my voice a low whisper.

  “Shhh,” Ella shushed me. “You don’t owe me an explanation or an apology, Kalli. You’re my best friend, and one of the best things about our friendship, the thing I value so highly, is that you take me completely at face value. You never asked questions, never pried, you were just there for me when I needed you most. If you felt like you couldn’t tell me about him, I accept that. But, if now, you feel like telling me, I’m ready to listen. Let me return the favor, Kalli. Maybe talking about him will help.”

  Just before I opened my mouth to try and explain everything, the door opened and I saw Megan’s face poke through.

  “Can I come in?” she whispered. I nodded and she came into the room, carrying a mug, walking to me and setting it down on the bedside table. “It’s just tea. I thought you could use something warm in your belly.”

  “Thank you,” I said, but didn’t move to touch the mug.

  “Kalli was just going to tell me about her brother,” Ella said to Megan, but her eyes were on me.

  “Can I stay? I’d love to hear about him.” Megan’s voice was soft and curious, and nothing but sweet. I nodded again and she sat at the very end of the bed, allowing me to see her and Ella. In that moment I noticed how similar they were. Both were beautiful in a natural kind of way, as if they rolled out of bed pretty. But they were both supremely compassionate and warm-hearted.

  “Marcus was my baby brother,” I started, the tears immediately welling in my eyes, the words rough and strained. Megan’s hand found my foot, gently squeezing it, while Ella’s hand continued to stroke my arm. “He was born when I was thirteen and he was perfect. He was my most prized possession,” I said, wiping away a tear. “When I was twenty and away at college, my mother, stepfather, and Marcus were in a car accident and Marcus was the only survivor.”