Wrecked and Yours Trilogy: A Second Chance Love Story

by CeeCee James

  She knew her way to the ICU. She remembered it from last time. The nurse at the nurse’s station was different than the one from two years ago when Uncle Stew died, but the smell of the unit was the same— sharp odors of antiseptic and bleach.

  Clenching her purse strap, her forehead creased as a wave of anxiety nearly pushed her off her feet. Her baby sister was here in this awful place. Irrationally, Miranda didn’t want to go see her, as if seeing her in the hospital bed would make it all real.

  “Can I help you?” The nurse looked over the computer monitor.

  Miranda shook her head. How long had she been standing there like a zombie?

  “Cassie Temple’s room?”

  The nurse directed her to her sister’s room. Before Miranda moved away, the nurse smiled sympathetically. “Just talk to her as if she were awake.”

  Miranda walked into the room and instantly felt like a little girl. The thrumming beat of her pulse filled her ears. She stared at the window, and waited for her heart to calm down. The blinds were open, and her eyes followed the rectangle of sunlight to where it fell over her sister’s still feet.

  It took every ounce of her courage to continue forward and face the small figure on the bed. She walked to the foot and gazed down at her sister. Cassie seemed half the size of a normal seventeen year old, with the sheet pulled primly across her chest and her pale arms lying on top. Miranda fluttered her eyes. You missed her birthday. How could you do that? Cassie is eighteen now.

  Her sister breathed easily, and, except for the bruises on her face and shorn head, she seemed to be sleeping. Miranda examined the shaved place where a row of staples held her scalp together. She covered her mouth and squeezed her eyes tight.

  “H-hi Cassie.” Miranda’s voice broke and she cleared her throat. With slow, cautious movements, she sat on the edge of the bed next to her. Her sister’s lips were chapped, and Miranda winced. Cassie had always carried several different flavors of lip gloss with her at all times. “What-cha doing in a place like this?” Miranda cut her eyes away from her sister, instead studying the IV stand, heart monitor, and breathing monitor. “Doesn’t seem to be your kind of place.”

  A noise startled her; a blood pressure cuff on Cassie’s arm began to inflate. It squeezed her sister’s arm until the arm turned pink, but Cassie didn’t respond.

  “Of course she’s not going to respond,” Miranda berated herself. “She’s in a coma.” After a moment it deflated, and new numbers flashed on the monitoring screen, as if in answer to the problem. Miranda felt a surge of anger at the numbers and wanted to hit the screen. You’re useless! Can you give me numbers on when she’ll wake up?

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Hold it together. Opening them, she looked back at her sister, and reached out to take one of her limp hands.

  “So, baby girl, I’m back. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to be gone for so long. The time, I guess, it got away from me.” She bit her lip. Shame enveloped her like a well-worn jacket. She’d failed; she knew it. Failed to take care of her sister. Failed her dad.

  She shifted on the bed and blew out another a deep breath. Lifting her head, she glanced around the room. The walls were bare except for a dry-erase board that said, “Hi, I’m Sarah. I’m your nurse this evening.” Stuck in the corner of the board was a get-well card. She leaned forward and slid it out to see whom it was from. It was unsigned, simply saying, “I love you forever.”

  “Who sent you a card?” Miranda murmured. Wrinkling her eyebrows, she wiggled it back under the board’s frame, then returned to the bed.

  The oxygen hissed in Cassie’s nose. Miranda grabbed her sister’s hand again. Cassie’s delicate blue veins pulsed through her pale skin.

  “So, uh, I wish I could ask you what’s new, but you seem to be taking the strong silent role right now.” She traced around her sister’s fingernail. “Next time I come I’ll bring some polish. Maybe we can paint your nails.”

  She leaned in close. “I want you to do something for me, okay? Can you squeeze my hand if you hear me? Please Cassie. Just a small squeeze.” She held her sister’s hand expectantly. Stared hard at it until she felt her eyes were going to burst.

  Nothing.

  Her heart hurt as she lay the hand back down. Between the folds of the blanket it looked like a wounded white dove. “It’s okay, Sis. You just rest for now.” She stood up and the plastic sheet crackled a bit as her weight lifted. Tears filled her eyes. Grabbing her purse, she hurried blindly out of the room.

  She walked right into the doctor.

  “Whoa, there,” he said, his hand reaching out to her elbow to steady her.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Miranda stepped back, her hand over her mouth.

  He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted at the name on the door, and then back at her. “Cassie’s….”

  “Sister. I’m Miranda.” She awkwardly changed the position of her purse so she could offer a hand. Her eyes briefly took in his salt and pepper hair. The doctor grasped her hand, but rather than shake it, he rested his other hand over the top of hers.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you before?” His voice lifted a bit at the end and turned the statement into a question.

  “Uh, no. No.” Miranda shook her head. “I just was informed of the car accident. I came as quickly as I could.”

  The doctor studied her face. “Mmmhmmm.” He nodded and released her hand. “Your sister’s been in serious condition.”

  “I know. I heard.”

  “She’s not out of the woods yet.”

  Miranda swallowed and nodded.

  “We’ve been running scans for brain activity. It’s been a slow go.”

  She could hear the words coming out of his mouth, but they seemed oddly disjointed, like from a nightmare. The surreal feeling from earlier chastised her that if she had just never come everything would still be okay.

  “Do we have your phone number?”

  The question startled Miranda awake. “Yes. No. Let me give it to you.” She fumbled her cell phone out from the bottom of her purse, then looked at him, confused. “I don’t know why I just pulled out my phone,” she said, a little sheepish. She rattled off the numbers and the doctor wrote them on the white board outside Cassie’s room.

  “I’ll have the nurse add this to her chart. We’ll call you if there are any new developments. Otherwise, see you tomorrow?” Again, that lilt at the end of a statement.

  Miranda nodded, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

  He clapped her on the arm. “Good. Next time, bring her favorite book. I’m sure she would enjoy hearing you read.” Then, adjusting his glasses again, he asked, “You okay?”

  “Yes, yes, sorry.” The blood roared in her ears and she could hardly hear him any more. She shifted her purse back up her shoulder. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay. Remember the book.”

  She turned and walked to the elevator, her muscles weak and shaking. Her mind burned with the image of her sister’s still, pale hand. She looked skyward. “Hey, Big Guy, she could really use some help here. Please watch over my little sister.”

  6

  ~Homeless~

  Grungy and sweaty didn’t begin to describe week two of being homeless. Miranda swatted at a fly that had been buzzing around her face for the last thirty minutes. “Definitely need to bathe or something,” she said to herself. Her brown hair was knotted in what felt like a thousand snarls. Feeling something crunchy, she picked a leaf out. “A leaf? Really?”

  “You need a bath?” Cassie asked.

  Miranda glanced over with a smile. “Yeah. I’m afraid I just can’t rock the sweaty look.”

  “I think you’re beautiful!” Cassie grabbed two handfuls of grass and threw them in the air.

  Miranda shook her head. “I wish everyone could see me through your eyes.”

  Cassie’s shirt hung from one bony shoulder, the pink flower pattern riddled with holes. Miranda was shocked at how the cl
othes were falling off her sister. Jason had a supply of canned food, and so far they’d gone through Spam, corned beef hash, and pork-n-beans.

  “It’s not enough,” Miranda whispered to herself.

  She wondered for a moment if there was a statewide search going on for them, or if their uncle had given up. If I can just get to Seattle, I know I can get a job. She pulled the front of her own shirt out. The black material was hot against her skin.

  Jason sauntered whistling up the trail.

  “Where’d you go?” Cassie asked.

  “Uh.” He gave her a cocky grin. “Had to drop the trout out.”

  Miranda turned red and quickly looked away.

  “Gross!” Cassie yelled, her blonde hair puffing like dandelion fuzz.

  “Cassie. ” Miranda reached out her hand. “Come here and pull me up. Let’s go find that stream.”

  Her sister grabbed it and heaved her to her feet.

  “So, this way, right?” Miranda jerked her thumb in the general direction where Jason had told her the river was.

  “Yeah. Give me a minute, and we can go together.”

  Miranda stared at him, deadpan. “You’re coming too?”

  “Well yeah.” He rubbed his sweaty forehead with his forearm. “It’s hotter than hell out here.”

  “Oh, well,” Miranda stuttered. “I thought Cassie and I could, err, bathe.”

  “Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

  Miranda arched her eyebrows.

  Jason said, “Seriously, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not in Kansas any more. You’re going to have quit worrying about all your niceties and get to surviving. If it bothers you so much, keep your clothes on. Heck, they need to be washed anyway.”

  This was true. And if he was coming, the clothes would definitely be staying on.

  “Now c’mon and help me break down camp.” He untied one end of the rope supporting the tarp. “So, how long had you guys been out here before I found you?”

  “Found? We weren’t lost.”

  “You were as lost as two babes in the woods.”

  “Where do you come up with your dorky sayings?” She worked on the rope knotted at the opposite side.

  “Probably the same place you come up with ways to avoid questions.” His muscles flexed as he yanked the rope from around the tree with a grunt. “Now, what’s your answer?”

  “Nearly a week.” Miranda shifted, biting her lip.

  Cassie bounced on her heels, shaking her head in denial. “No! It was Monday. We’d only been out here four days.”

  Miranda rolled her eyes while Jason rubbed his mouth to hide his smile.

  “Yeah,” he answered. “It isn’t easy.” He pointed to the fire. “Hey you, why don’t you go scoop some dirt on that to put it out. ”

  Cassie jumped up like she was a spring just waiting to be let loose.

  “So, how long have you been out here?” Miranda asked.

  He studied her for a second. “Too long.”

  “How long is that? How old are you anyway?”

  “Geez all these questions.”

  “You started it,” she answered.

  He smiled then. “Fair enough. I’m sixteen.”

  Miranda nodded. Just a year older than me.

  They watched Cassie kick the dirt on the fire with a triumphant, “Hiya!”

  “I guess firefighting might be in her future,” Jason said.

  Miranda grinned and returned to her knot. It was being stubborn. No way was she going to ask Jason for help. She quickly leaned in to use her teeth before he could see her do it.

  He shoved his things into his pack before untying the food bundle and lowering it from the tree. The fire pit was now a mound of sand.

  “Good job, Cassie,” Jason said. Her sister blushed and looked pleased.

  Jason tied the tarp roll under the straps of his backpack. He slid it on, the muscles in his shoulders flexing. Miranda pulled her backpack on too.

  Jason surveyed the campsite one more time. Satisfied he had everything, he nodded. “Okay, down to the river. We earned it.”

  The path was fairly noticeable now that Miranda knew what to watch for. Cassie ran ahead with her dog.

  “So,” Miranda started. “Did you ever do any sports at school?”

  “Sports?” Jason snorted. “What are you, crazy?”

  “No, I’m not crazy! I’m just trying to make small talk.”

  His arm reached and stopped her in mid-step. “Look,” he pointed into the trees. “Do you see that?’

  Miranda squinted, trying to follow the line of his finger. She didn’t see anything but a dark bush, the ground beneath it speckled with sunlight. She could feel him nearly vibrate with excitement, so she stared harder.

  “This is what life’s about, those small miracles,” he whispered.

  She sucked in her breath. The speckled ground was really a tiny fawn. It was curled into a ball smaller than Poppy. A grin broke out on her face. Then, fear flashed through her that maybe he was going to kill it for food, and she darted a glance at Jason.

  His dark eyebrows rose with awe and his lips curved in a soft smile. She noticed his hand lingered a moment longer on her arm, and her skin tingled. He put his finger over his lips to remind her to be quiet.

  “Hey, you guys!” Cassie shouted up ahead. Jason and Miranda each gave a silent laugh and hurried back up the path.

  The trail wound a mile further and then the trees opened up to a pebbly beach.

  They shucked off their backpacks. Jason grabbed his shirt between his shoulder blades and yanked it over his head. He unzipped his pants. Miranda turned her sister around and pushed her to the river’s edge.

  With a splash, Jason dove in the water and swam down river with long strokes.

  Miranda slipped off her socks and shoes and waded in. The water felt nice on her feet. So cold. “C’mon, Cassie.”

  Cassie didn’t need to be told twice, and had already pulled off her socks. She tugged her shirt over her head. Miranda was shocked at the whiteness of her sister’s belly compared to her brown arms and legs.

  “Keep your shirt on, Chickee.”

  “Aww c’mon. I’m sticky!”

  Miranda sympathized. Her own shirt had been sweated through and was patchy with dirt. “Keep it on. The river will clean it.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes but pulled it back on.

  The rocks were slippery and Miranda nearly lost her balance as the current caught her. They splashed out deeper into the river. Miranda dipped her head and laid back. The water muffled all the outside noise, and she bobbed along floating with her arms stretched out. A moment of peace filled her mind.

  It was easy to forget about everything out here. In fact, Cassie had been acting like she was at summer camp. Except for a few awkward moments at night under the tarp trying to figure out where each of them would sleep, Miranda kind of felt the same way.

  Guilt stabbed her. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered half to herself. “I suck as a daughter. I miss you. I wish we could have had more time together, with you not so…” she paused, trying to find the right word, “empty.”

  “What, Miranda?” Cassie called to her.

  Miranda stood up and knocked the water out of her ears. “Nothing, Chickee. Just wondering how Dad likes his new digs, and if he’s found Mom yet.”

  “Of course he’s found Mom.” Cassie answered, doing the doggy paddle to get closer. “He’s told her all sorts of things about us, and all the stuff she’s missed.” She took in a mouthful of water and spit it out. “Do you think she would have liked me?”

  “Liked you?” Miranda poured a cupped handful of water over Cassie’s hair. “You’d have been her favorite.”

  “Really?”

  “She’s probably watching from heaven right now, thinking, ‘Hmmm, which one do I like best?’ I think I’ll have to wrestle you for the favorite daughter title.”

  Cassie had a thoughtful expression and dunked herself u
nder the surface. She rose with spiked eyelashes. “Do you think I would have liked her?”

  “She was the best mother ever.”

  “You’re the only mom I’ve known.”

  Miranda’s eyes filled with tears, and she couldn’t respond. She kissed the top of Cassie’s head. “Go bathe Poppy, Chickee.”

  From age five, Miranda had done the best that she could by Cassie. Different neighborhood women had tried to help during those first few months after her mom had died, the single ones bringing over dinner in low-cut blouses. But Dad had made it clear he intended to remain single, and slowly those helpful hands drifted away. Miranda had learned how to feed a squalling baby and change diapers before she was six. When she didn’t think she could do it, her Dad would look at her with tired eyes and say, “You have to do it, Miranda. She wants you anyway.”

  She’d helped her sister learn to walk, run, and eventually ride a bike. She’d comforted her in the middle of the night, helped her with her homework, cut her hair, and tracked her down when she wasn’t home in time for dinner.

  Miranda felt an ugly stab of resentment at her father. She squelched it again, with a frown. “Crappy, crappy daughter.”

  7

  ~Homeless~

  Can’t do this for much longer. The sun was ferocious, and Miranda’s black shirt soaked up its heat like a sponge. This just wasn’t going to work any more. She unbuttoned the bottom four buttons and tied it high around her waist, gasping with relief as the breeze hit the bare skin of her stomach. Her pants hung low over jutting hipbones.

  For days they’d been traveling along the river. Every night they spread out the tarp and camped on its bank. They had plenty of water, but the food was getting pretty low. Jason had been attempting to catch fish, but so far, the fishing wasn’t panning out. Hunger pains shot through Miranda. Her stomach felt like it was being wrung out like a wet rag, and she could tell by the way Cassie held her belly that she felt the same way.