The Effects of Falling (The Weight of Rain Duet Book 2)

by Mariah Dietz

  “I don’t mean to be so surprised. I know you’d give her your kidney if it were ever needed, but…” his stare moves to the wall beyond me, “…this might be bigger than a kidney. It’s Universal Studios.”

  I huff, losing any patience that was left from traveling and the stresses of seeing him in this situation and what has been going on between Kash and me. “I’ll bring you lots of photographic evidence of how great of a time we have, while you’re here sipping your Jell-O cups down, old man.”

  “I don’t know. This might be better than a theme park.” His grin widens. “Have you seen my nurse, yet?”

  “Want me to tell her you’re having chest pains again? See if she’ll spend extra time in here, monitoring you?”

  His eyes light up with laughter as they dance over my face. “You would make me sound like a decrepit old man, wouldn’t you?”

  “Better than making you sound like a perv.”

  He laughs his agreement and then turns nearly somber once again. “I’m real sorry you had to cut your trip short to come out here. I’m glad they were able to catch this so quickly, but I still can’t believe my ol’ ticker gave up on me, especially here.”

  “Your heart didn’t give up on you, Robert. You can’t say stupid stuff like that. And stop apologizing for having a heart attack. No one cares about anything, except that you’re well. A hiccup, remember?”

  “I am. I’m going to be just fine.”

  “You’d better be,” I warn, bringing the faint outline of a smile to cross his lips again.

  “You have my word.”

  “So, three days, huh?” I ask, finally acknowledging the numerous machines in his room that are attached to him in one way or another.

  “That’s what they’re hoping for.”

  “You can do it.”

  “I’ve been through a whole hell of a lot worse. I have no doubt this will be a cakewalk in comparison.”

  Compared to his loss of Arianna or living with that loss every day? I don’t ask, knowing the answer is likely both.

  “Anything good on TV?” I ask, leaning closer to his side as I look at the screen Mercedes was watching when we came in.

  “It’s the middle of the day. There’s only shit on at this time.”

  “Maybe they have a movie channel.”

  “They don’t,” Mercedes says, reappearing with Lo behind her, a small paper sack clutched to her side with an elbow.

  “That was too fast of a trip to sneak me in something good.” Robert also eyes the bag with curiosity.

  “We asked,” Mercedes says as she unceremoniously plops beside Robert. Her ease with him is clear as she kicks her feet up. It’s apparent she won’t accept considering him in a fragile state even though he cringes from her pulling on his IV tube. “You can’t eat anything other than what the hospital gives you until you meet with a nutritionist and have been released.”

  “Discharged,” Lo corrects.

  But Mercedes doesn’t turn to her; she simply grabs the remote and flips through several channels.

  “THREE DAYS?” LO whispers from the other side of Mercedes.

  King made us reservations at a hotel close to the hospital where they only had king sized-beds available. He reserved two adjoining rooms, but Mercedes was reluctant to make a decision on who she would stay with, so we are all in one bed with her passed out in the middle.

  I’m relieved to hear the shock in Lo’s voice. I’ve never watched Mercedes for so long by myself. If we were at home, I could take her riding, we could binge on Netflix, or we could maybe take a trip to the beach or something.

  “Did I mention we’re going to Universal Studios once we hear everything’s okay with Robert’s surgery?”

  Propping herself up on an elbow, she peers over at me. “We are?”

  “I thought we’d surprise Mercedes.”

  “You think she’ll be okay with being away from the hospital for a full day?”

  I didn’t even consider that, only thinking about how much I didn’t want her to endure time at the hospital any longer.

  “Robert wants us to.” I know this without a doubt. Still, as seconds tick by, I question if I made the right decision. “Do you think we shouldn’t go?” I ask quietly. Rarely do I ask for an opinion from someone other than Kash, but more and more, I’ve found myself seeking Lo’s.

  “No, I think you’re right. We’ll be there tomorrow and she can see him once he’s out of surgery to ensure everything went smoothly, and then we can celebrate while he rests.”

  “And hits on the nurses.”

  “Ew! Stop!” Lo whispers, her voice pitched.

  “What are you? Five? He doesn’t have cooties.”

  Lo shakes her head. “I like to think of him as being completely platonic with everyone he meets.”

  “Mercedes is right. You are weird.”

  “You’re wearing Kash’s underwear, and I’m the weird one?” Lo accuses too loudly.

  “I’m not wearing Kash’s underwear,” I hiss.

  “Those aren’t shorts. I totally saw the gape in your crotch when you bent over. I’m glad you wear underwear with those.”

  “Don’t get shy on me now, Crosby. I’ve already shown you my goods.”

  She laughs. “Were you able to reach Kash?”

  I’d prefer to focus on my boxers again. Anytime someone learns I like to sleep in them, they always ask why. I’d choose to discuss nearly anything rather than consider why I couldn’t reach Kash earlier. He had messaged me shortly after the nurse came in and discussed the details of the surgery and the schedule for tomorrow, and once I relayed the information to him, he vanished.

  “No. Could you reach King?”

  “No. I think they must have gone up to the other cabin, and lost reception.”

  Mercedes breathes a loud sigh and rolls over, silencing us both for several minutes.

  “Likely,” I agree once Mercedes’ heavy breaths fill the air again. “Kenzie called though, while you were talking to Charleigh. That was nice of you to reach out to her. You’re kind of a class act, Lauren Crosby.”

  “I try.” She’s lying; she totally is.

  “How’s Charleigh, by the way?” I don’t know Lo’s British roommate well, but stories of her, and their third roommate, Allie, often make for a good laugh.

  “Good. She was calling to see how we were doing. She sends her love by the way. How did Kenzie take the news?”

  “You know Kenzie,” I say with a shrug.

  She does. Lo was roommates with Kash and King’s little sister all of last year and knows how she often forgets that the world doesn’t revolve around her.

  The thought leaves me wondering what it would be like to have a roommate myself. I’ve never lived with another person since moving out of my Uncle Toby’s. I don’t mind either of Lo’s roommates, Charleigh and Allie, but they tend to get too giggly, finish each other’s sentences, and constantly reference inside jokes. The combination becomes too much really fast. But, I think I could live with Lo because she is rarely that way. Instead, she generally reverts to sarcasm and staring at canvases that she’s working on—but I prefer living alone where I don’t have to worry about what anyone else wants or thinks. It’s easier that way.

  “Can I ask you a really inappropriate question?”

  My attention moves to Lo’s dark silhouette.

  “This would be way more fun tomorrow when I can actually see you. If it’s really inappropriate, I’m betting you’re already red.”

  “How long have you liked Kash?” Lo asks, ignoring my comment.

  I release a long breath as I recall Kash first walking into the shop my uncle owned. His frame was narrower, his eyes a bit hardened from the recent loss of his fiancé, and his gait was different—more arrogant, far less casual than it is now.

  “Eleven years.”

  “And you guys have never talked about it? Never acted on it?”

  “Are you asking if we have had sex and haven’t told anyon
e?”

  Most people assume Kash and I have slept together. Some believe we do on a consistent basis. Normally, I make no attempt to change their beliefs. But the way Lo looks at me with her eyelids mostly closed in focus tells me she already knows we haven’t and don’t.

  “You guys are so good together. I can’t imagine it’s easy to be around someone and care so much for them without doing anything.”

  “You mean, like you did last year?”

  “Yeah, but King and I fought constantly. You and Kash are completely civil. There’s just this underlying tension.”

  I know what she’s referencing. It’s the debate of whether or not I take his elbow while we walk. If I should buy the snack I know he loves when I’m at the grocery store. The fact that I turn up nearly every song I hear about crushing on a guy because I feel like it’s the anthem of my heart spoken in lyrics. Should I be relieved that others have noticed or feel embarrassed because it’s so obvious?

  “How long has it been since you’ve slept with someone?” Lo’s question crashes through my thoughts, like my accident did: I have only enough time to realize how badly it’s going to hurt.

  “You aren’t seriously asking me that, are you?”

  “You’re the one who insisted I drink a second glass of wine. I’m feeling slightly buzzed with bravery. Otherwise, I’d be afraid you’d punch me.” She laughs, and it sounds closer to a giggle. “You wouldn’t actually punch me, would you? I once thought you would, but after the time that guy rear-ended you and was acting like a complete and total asshole and you didn’t punch him, I figured you’re more of the completely-cut-people-off type.”

  “Completely cut people off?”

  “You know what I mean. If someone wrongs you for a valid reason, I can picture you holding one hell of a grudge.”

  “Like not speaking to my mother for fifteen years?”

  Even in the darkness of our room, I can see her eyes widen with surprise.

  “Fifteen years?” she asks in a whisper.

  “I figure, if someone isn’t deserving of you expending the energy, why continue to waste it?”

  “Are you afraid you’ll feel like you’re wasting your energy on Kash if you guys don’t eventually act on things?”

  “What things?”

  “Can you hear my eyes rolling? Seriously, don’t be a pain in the ass. This is what sleepovers are all about—stripping the secrets of our souls.”

  “Who in the hell did you do sleepovers with growing up? You sound like a Hallmark infomercial. Sleepovers are for streaking and breaking into liquor cabinets. Putting your friend’s underwear in the freezer, and these days, you post embarrassing pictures and lies about them on social media once they’ve fallen asleep.”

  “Do we have a freezer in here?” Lo asks, sitting up a bit more.

  “Scared?”

  “Just considering what all I need to hide from you over the next three days.”

  I laugh too loudly, causing Mercedes to stir again before nuzzling farther into my side.

  “So, really, how long has it been?”

  “I liked it better when you were afraid that I’d punch you.”

  “Not me.” Lo grins, resting her head on the palm of her hand that is propped up by her pillow.

  “I feel like I’m cheating on him when I even consider dating other guys. Isn’t that pitiful?”

  “No. You care deeply for him. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone if you dated someone, knowing you would never like them.” Lo’s answer feels like a validation. “When I started watching Mercedes, Allie and Charleigh thought I should date Kash. I tried to picture kissing him though, and it made my stomach hurt. Not because Kash is unattractive, or because he isn’t a nice guy, it just didn’t feel right.”

  Silence falls between us again, and I look over to see her eyes are closed. Part of me wishes she would ask more questions, allow me to reveal things that I suddenly feel ready to release. The other part of me is glad, knowing I’ll regret the level of truth she’s eliciting.

  “Do you think I’m weak for forgiving my mom?” Lo asks, surprising me.

  “What all have you forgiven her for?”

  “I don’t know,” she answers after another long silence. “Not loving me enough.”

  MERCEDES’ HAND WRAPS around mine as we approach the hospital. I wish the hot shower I was able to catch early this morning made me feel ready to face this day, but it didn’t. As many times as I hear Lo assure Mercedes that this is a common procedure that he’ll recover quickly from, I can’t fully accept that it will be nearly so simple.

  The lobby has a line by the small coffee shop, which has the fumes of grinding beans offending my nose. I can’t stand even the scent.

  “Let’s grab something before we go up,” Lo suggests. “Want me to grab you a muffin or a bagel or something?”

  I send her a small smile to thank her for allowing me this exit so I can meet with Robert and the doctor before his surgery. After telling her to get me a brownie if they have them, I head toward the elevators.

  As the doors open on the seventh floor, my phone rings, Kash’s ringtone filling the air. “Hey.” I am relieved, comforted, and anxious to hear from him, making my greeting come out rushed and loud.

  “Summer.” My name sounds like a sigh. “God, I’m so glad I caught you. I’m so glad to hear your voice.” He groans. “I’ve been driving for … I don’t even know … hours.”

  “What? Where are you?”

  He chuckles a humorless laugh that tugs on every edge of my heart. I want to be with him to offer support and comfort. Assure him that everything will be all right, and distract his wild fears, so they stop haunting him. “I don’t know,” Kash admits. “The shoulder of the road somewhere that I finally have reception. Is Robert in surgery yet?”

  “Not for another hour.”

  “How’s he doing? Does he look okay? Are the doctors concerned at all?”

  The corners of my lips curl into a smile. Kash’s heart is as big as his need for adventure.

  “You wouldn’t even think anything was wrong when looking at him,” I explain. “And he isn’t worried. Not even a little. He’s hitting on nurses and complaining about the food.”

  Kash exhales a rush of breath into the mouthpiece, and I can picture him in a car, his head tilted skyward as he leans back.

  “I’m so glad you’re there. I feel so much better knowing you’re able to check on things, and make sure they’re both all right. But, God, I wish you were here. I feel so wound up. Like I’ve had caffeine shot through me along with cocaine and meth and a thousand other things, and they’re about to cause some sort of combustion.”

  “Three more days.”

  “Three more days,” he repeats.

  “How did things go yesterday?”

  “Frustrating.” The single word also describes his tone perfectly. “I am so fucking pissed off with this shoot and everyone involved. It’s a joke. The first day was fine. Now, they’re getting ridiculous. They’re asking for a lawsuit with the shit they keep thinking up. And to have us travel farther north where there’s no reception after throwing a shit-fit over me leaving just makes me want to say, kiss my ass!”

  “We’ll blacklist them. They were starting to grow, but if they’re going to treat their talent like this, they need to be outed.”

  “Exactly.” His voice rises. “That’s exactly what I said.”

  “You only have two more days.”

  “I hope so. If they try to prolong it, I’m walking. I don’t give a shit if they try to sue me. I’m so over it.”

  I pray King is doing a better job at keeping a level head, but I doubt he is. Neither of them is hotheaded per se, but when it comes to the people they care about, they don’t move mountains, they destroy them.

  A nurse approaches me, concern furrowing her brow from me remaining motionless. I smile to keep her at arm’s length and resume walking from where I stopped to lean against the wall and soak in some time wit
h Kash. I feel better. Stronger. Ready to face this day, and it’s all been granted to me by speaking to him for a few brief moments.

  “Do you want to talk to Robert?”

  “Is he there? I would. I’d like to talk to him and Mercedes for a second.”

  “They’d like that too.” I move in the direction of his room. “I’ll let you know as soon as he’s out of surgery. If you aren’t where you can talk, don’t worry, we’ll be here all day.”

  “You’re the best, Summer. I can’t even…”

  “Then, don’t. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Robert’s face lifts into a smile as I walk in. Even his eyes are smiling, and as I extend my arm to hand him the phone, a soft laugh breaks through his parted lips, knowing Kash is on the phone though it’s a ridiculous hour on the West Coast.

  “If you think you’re going to give me any words of wisdom, you can take them and shove ’em up your ass, Kash,” Robert warns.

  I hear both parties laugh. Then, Robert’s shoulders settle into the bed and he listens for a few moments.

  Lo and Mercedes make their way in a few minutes later, each sporting a cardboard cup and wide eyes. Neither of them should be drinking caffeine with their nerves already on high alert, but I don’t say anything as Mercedes’ gaze meets mine with questions brightening them.

  “He wants to talk to you,” I tell her.

  The first real smile I’ve seen from her since arriving crosses her face, and in a few bounds she’s beside Robert’s bed, looking far more hopeful and prepared for what’s to come.

  When they both wrap up their calls with Kash, the four of us make an effort to talk and interact like this is another normal day, but our topics remain light and easy. Too easy. They’re causing me to be restless rather than comforted. I’ve never been one to appreciate avoiding the elephant in the room, and this is no different.

  A nurse appears in the room with an orderly to move Robert to the operating room, and my heart thunders with the fear that this will be the last time I might see him. My eyes cloud, my throat constricts, and my arms fold across my chest.