by Fiona Keane
***
I was back to the fire station within an hour, a slow walk because after the rush of my morning, the ink on my abs ached and moving with haste was irritating. I stopped for a coffee to take the chief to show my appreciation for him hanging out with Muffin, but I knew those old men loved one another. The chief stood just inside the garage, speaking with a handful of new recruits who looked so excited about fighting fire that I was actually worried for a minute.
“Hey,” I greeted him once the newbies dispersed. “Latte.”
“Thanks, Rossi.” He smiled appreciatively, taking the cup. “You don’t need to thank me for watching Muffin, though.” I felt him nudge my arm as we walked. “How’s your sleeve?”
I knew he wasn’t talking about my sleeve of ink. “Missing my heart, sir.”
“Noah.” He paused when we approached the doorway through the garage, placing a pudgy palm around my bicep. “If there’s ever a case too close to home, you don’t need to go to it.”
“I think that’s exactly why I need to go to it, sir.”
“Kid, you can’t save her in each case we get. The boyfriend’s alive,” he changed the topic, probably feeling my muscles tighten in anticipation of knocking him out from his previous comment, “and I want you to take the next three days off.”
“Is that an order, sir?” I gritted my teeth, lifting my eyes to watch my boss nod his silent reply.
Three days off from work, in my empty apartment with my mind run amuck. At least I had Muffin, and I could always find solace with Nadia and Silas. That’s just what I needed after a day like this, too many drinks and more ink.
I walked home, carrying my furball most of the way because his legs gave out within three blocks. He hardly acknowledged my conversation with him but for a few snorts and grumbles between snores. I may as well have been talking to my mom’s third husband.
When I turned the corner, I didn’t want to go home. It wasn’t even Callie at that moment; it was life. Callie was supposed to be different; she was supposed to be the one who healed my heart, the one who could help me move forward after losing Jade. Instead, she was a liar and a thief without remorse or emotion who I should have avoided the moment Silas shook his head at me with eyes wide in the bar. I blame Nadia too. She was there. I shouldn’t be getting this angry.
I sat on the front step for an hour, holding Muffin in my arms while I watched people walk along the sidewalk without a care in the world. Someone was eating ice cream, another texting. They probably had no clue how quick life could change. I was thinking of Jade, and I shouldn’t have been, because it wasn’t her I thought of, but the moment I lost her.
I stewed for a little longer before going inside and putting on a different pair of pants and shoes, letting Muffin get comfy on a pile of laundry with enough food and water to last a couple hours. I needed to be somewhere else, somewhere I had purpose. The chief’s words swirled around, and I’d nearly gnawed my thumb to a stump letting them break me. You can’t save her in every case we get. And just like that, I was on my way back to the hospital.
Chapter Four
I needed a shower, badly. Not to clean myself, but to wash away the day. I smelled fine, according to Rachel and Esme, who actually compared me to a spicy cookie, which was something I wasn’t really sure how to reply to, when I checked to see if Avery’s room changed. As I walked closer to her room, I wondered why my brain was even worrying about what sort of baked good I smelled like, but when I slowly turned the corner I felt my heart literally skip a damn beat.
Blondie was wiping away tears in the hallway. She hadn’t seen me, which was great because I didn’t do well with babes and the tears. Not in these circumstances. Not when it all felt too close to home. I watched her slowly pace, clinging to the wall with her gaze unfocused on the tiles below. She whimpered something, sniffled, and cursed. It was the prettiest use of profanities I’d heard in a long time. I still didn’t know what to do with her tears, though…
I ran my fingers through my hair, intertwining them against the back of my neck while I steadied my breath. She exhaled just as I did, both of us silently grieving someone, something. I cautiously approached, unsure if she’d recognize me from earlier. Holy hotness was what she called me before, so I figured she might at least remember something.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Do you ever wonder why the chair rails are so thick in hospitals?”
She looked up at me, eyebrows furrowed and eyelids raw. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not for bumpers, you know, to protect patient beds from hitting them,” I continued, joining her posture against the wall. “It’s so,” I took the hand she held up to her cheek and slowly placed it on the curve of the chair rail, folding her long fingers over the edge, “people who care have something to hold onto when it feels there’s nothing left.”
Her sodden gaze traveled between our hands to my eyes, pausing briefly to consider me. “Thank you.”
It was hard not to smile at her, knowing she didn’t buy my story, so I was definitely struggling to fight the grin I hadn’t expected. “You don’t believe me?”
“I never trust a man in uniform,” she grinned, “especially one with tattoos.”
“Ah.” I turned to press my back against the wall, staring at the floor while her laugh drifted right into the heart on my damn sleeve. “All valid points. I am dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.”
“Dangerous?”
I bit my lip to hide the laugh ready to burst from her immediate intrigue. “Well, yeah.” I peered at her with my head down. “I know exactly where to punch someone to break their nose, which muscle to pinch so they go limp. But I prefer to use my power for good. You know, like helping a woman give birth, wiping the tears of a little guy who fell from the monkey bars at school, and helping people like Avery.” I stopped when her hand wrapped around my bicep, stilling with her touch.
“Which muscle makes someone limp?” Her eyes widened while she wiped away the remnants of her tears. I smiled at her, tugging my thumbs into the cuffs of my shirt and lifting my makeshift handkerchief to gently wipe the residue from her mascara.
“I’m Noah,” I murmured.
“Lizzie,” she replied, barely a breath while I wiped her other eye.
“Holy hotness, huh?” I teased, getting her eruption of blushing laughter in reply. “I’m fine with you calling me either, but Noah’s probably more appropriate.”
“Sure.” Lizzie laughed, shaking her head. “I’m not sorry about that, though. It’s the tattoos.”
“Of course.” I nodded, pretending to agree with her. “There’s really nothing more to me. I completely understand. Actually, I got them to cover my shattered exterior. I’m a weakling, big softie. These make people think I’m dangerous, so they avoid me.”
She placed her thin fingers around my wrist and lifted my sleeve to observe the mermaid tattoo, looking up at me with a skeptical grin. “Really, Noah? People are afraid of a man with a dancing lady fish on his arm? You could have at least painted a bra on her.”
I looked down at my mermaid, smiling at the memory of getting it with Silas during undergrad. “Eh, I’m not one to support gender stereotypes and confining women to antiquated patriarchal norms. She’s much happier this way.”
Lizzie gaped, squeezing my forearm tighter as her eyes widened. “Will you marry me?”
I waited for her to catch herself but couldn’t help laughing at her bluntness. She was adorable, in an obnoxiously feisty way that was twisting my gut. It knew better, sure as hell, but I didn’t see anyone else trying to clear the smudge of Lizzie’s mascara in the hallway.
“That depends. Do you like dogs?”
“I do. I have two cats.”
“Oh.” I scrunched my face. “That’s a deal breaker. I don’t want to spend my retirement cleaning a litter box, Lizzie. My bones are going to go one of these days, and it’ll be harder to bend and clean up after those things.”
“I have an electric l
itter box,” she confessed, giggling. Lizzie let out a deep sigh, one that sounded restorative, like she’d shaken off a bit of her anxiety about everything happening with her friends. I pushed up my other sleeve and crossed my arms, rolling my head along my shoulders before leaning once more against the wall.
“Let’s start with coffee,” she said quietly, and I turned to look at her, unable to resist the grin she brought out of me. It was the worst timing, it was totally inappropriate, and I felt guilty as hell.
“I like coffee,” I boldly lifted my fingers to gently tug on one of her curls, “and cats too.” Lizzie’s lips twisted up, not parting with a smile, as she looked once more at me and placed her hand on the doorknob.
“They waited years to be together. He’s twenty-six, he survived cancer, and now he’s on a bed somewhere cut open in here,” Lizzie whispered to me, her voice cracking as she tried to keep it quiet. “And now she’s pregnant and alone. How fucked up is this universe, Noah?”
Lizzie didn’t know I asked myself the same question daily, and I resented myself for only being able to look at her in that moment. I didn’t have a response. I could only try and offer compassion through a squeeze of her shoulder.
“I wish I had an answer for you, Lizzie, and Avery and Sean.”
She closed her eyes, and I noticed her jaw clench before she inhaled a shaky breath that rattled us both. Lizzie cracked the door, peeking inside before fully opening the panel. She waved to the brunette who read a book to sleeping Avery. I found solace in knowing she was asleep because that was the best place to be if you couldn’t do something about the real world.
“Noah.” Lizzie turned to me once she stepped into the room. “You can come in if you want.”
“You were there for Avery and Sean,” the brunette whispered, and I felt like an idiot for not catching or remembering her name. “You can stay.”
“Ella,” Lizzie asked of the other, and I silently thanked her for reading my mind, “would you hand me my bag? I need ibuprofen.”
“Your head hurts?” I inquired, both women responding with blank expressions.
“No,” Lizzie replied. I wanted to tell her to drink just water, knowing she’d cried herself into dehydration, but felt it was too soon to offer advice, especially when I wasn’t wearing my uniform. Ella and Lizzie exchanged the bag, and Lizzie swallowed two tablets with a cup from Avery’s bedside table.
I crept closer to Avery, checking the machines around her bed and ensuring she at least appeared comfortable. I couldn’t believe she was pregnant, and I wish I knew earlier at her condo. I would’ve done more to care for her, to console her or check her out better…I just didn’t know. I felt like I failed her.
“Jesse’s your husband?” I turned to Ella, watching her cheeks pinken at the mention of his name. She nodded at me, smiling faintly, before returning to her book and Avery. I was relieved for Avery that she was wearing clothes, no longer a victim of hospital negligence. Lizzie was staring at me when I turned around, her hands pressing into her hips.
“What else do you have under that shirt?”
“What?” I laughed, caught off guard again by her bluntness.
She grinned, nodding to me. “What other tattoos do you have? Mermaid, totem pole, flowers…it’s quite an eccentric variety of ink. I only have three tattoos.”
“You only have one.” Ella snickered from Avery’s bed. It sounded incredibly innocent, pulling my focus to the bed once more while the two continued talking about Lizzie’s tattoos.
“You haven’t seen the other two because you don’t get to look where those are,” Lizzie mocked, definitely getting my attention. Ella grumbled something, shaking her head at Lizzie and returned to the book she read to Avery. I couldn’t follow along, but it was some kind of fairy tale or romance novel. I didn’t listen after a few sentences with elaborative descriptions of the male character’s eye color. Somehow eyes and food comparisons didn’t mix; I didn’t get it.
I met them only hours prior, but being in the company of Ella, Lizzie, and even Avery was cathartic. Ella and Lizzie’s quiet banter, the blatant difference in their personalities, and their calm voices were helping me forget so much of the last week. I wish I knew more, anything, about Sean to relay to them, or even that I knew which doctor to talk to about his progress.
While Lizzie and Ella whispered at Avery’s bedside, I took a seat on one of the vinyl chairs near the foot of her bed, leaning forward with my forearms pressed into my thighs. Some time passed before Lizzie and Ella left Avery’s bed and found other spots in the room to rest.
“I can stay if you two want to take a break,” I offered, watching Lizzie pace once more, this time closer to me.
“No.” She came to sit next to me, lifting my left arm to pull back the sleeve in search of more tattoos. She found the small map outlining the Great Lakes and traced a finger along each line. “I don’t want to leave her.”
Our heads shot up in unison when the door opened, a doctor and some nurses entering. I was comforted to see Dr. Raji first, having worked with her before on emergency cases. She greeted me with a standard nod and smile, taking a moment to register who I was out of uniform. They poked around Avery’s bed, gently placed their hands along her stomach, and muttered medical jargon that were too many wasted words to express that Avery and her pregnancy were fine. They wouldn’t be fine, though, not until anyone knew about Sean. While the doctor and nurses checked on Avery before leaving, I felt Lizzie’s finger tickle my forearm.
“She’s sedated,” she muttered at my side. “Is that safe for the babies?”
“Plural?” I met her concerned gaze and let my eyes wander once more to Avery. I wouldn’t have known she was even pregnant with one baby, but I’d only seen her in Sean’s shirt during a crisis. I felt guilty. I would’ve done things differently, handled her more gently, done more had I known. Lizzie was staring at me expectantly, like I held all the answers, her blue eyes wide and tearing once more.
“They’ll be okay,” I tried to reassure her, placing my hand over hers while she traced the lines of my tattoo. “They wouldn’t do anything to risk Avery’s life or the babies.”
Lizzie was quiet, but her fingertips trembled against my arm. “The doctor said she can see Sean today.” Thank God.
I heard Avery’s small moan, a light whimper as she came to. She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms at her side. Lizzie’s chair slammed into my knees as she bolted from it, Ella racing her to Avery’s bedside. It took a few more minutes before her eyelashes fluttered opened, revealing blurry green eyes. Avery groaned, muttering Sean’s name. I pulled my hands along my face, trying to fight what I felt for Avery’s emotions in that moment. I sat back, giving the women some space.
“Lizzie,” Avery finally spoke, reaching for Lizzie’s hand, “ask my doctor why I’m still here. I only fainted. It’s happened before. I’m not sick, I’m not dying, and I’m fine enough to be discharged.”
She was panicking. There wasn’t anything Lizzie or Ella could do but console her, and none of them could handle any of the information the doctors tossed around. I felt horrible, even responsible, although I’d just met them all. It was guilt, a familiar consequence whenever my heart and sleeve tied knots around each other. I had to do something.
“Hey,” I whispered, attempting to calm her, “Avery. You’ve been discharged. They just wanted to monitor the babies after you fainted and probably buy time.” I froze when Avery’s eyes landed on mine, hers wide and terrified. “They were probably trying to protect you and the babies, if something were to go wrong with Sean,” I mumbled apologetically. “They do that all the time.”
Lizzie’s expression was filled with disgust. “So,” she scoffed at me, “the hospital charges her insurance thousands of dollars to prevent her from running around like a lunatic because they might not have an answer when she wants one?”
It was the truth, but no words could answer that ridiculous suggestion. I held my hands defensively,
trying not to laugh at Lizzie’s bluntness while stifling my thoughts of how surprisingly hot it was. I stared at my lap, wondering what my next steps were.
“I’ll go see if Doctor Raji is ready for you to go upstairs.” I pressed my hands against my thighs while I stood, thrown by the dizziness in my head and needing all the help with balance I could get. Approaching the door, I smiled warmly at Avery in departure.
I jogged through the wing, catching the eye of nurses and patients as I nearly ran to find Doctor Raji. She stood at the nurse’s station, folding the cover of a medical file over the top when I approached. She turned, smiling at me, and I wasn’t sure where to start.
“You have a kind heart, Mr. Rossi,” she said first. “I’m glad you’re going beyond your duties and helping my patient.”
“Yeah,” I stumbled, trying to connect thoughts and words. Lizzie’s big, lonely blue eyes flashed in my mind, and I wasn’t sure what to say. She traced my tattoos like her hand belonged there, and it was disarming how therapeutic that felt. “Her boyfriend? Paramedic to doctor.” I tried to smile at Doctor Raji, hoping our professional relationship would mean a little more in that moment.
“I spoke with his oncologist, and right now I’m actually finishing up with another patient’s paperwork, but if you give me just a minute, I can walk back to Miss Blake with you and we can discuss escorting her upstairs to see her partner.”
“His name is Sean,” I mumbled, gritting my jaw. I didn’t know him, I’d only seen him dying on the stretcher when Ben and Nina took him that morning, but he had a name. Dead or alive, we all have names.
“I know,” Doctor Raji smiled at me, “but we can’t discuss his name without breaking confidentiality. To Miss Blake, I only refer to her partner by name. Everyone has a name, Mr. Rossi.”
I bit my tongue, trying to subdue the memories of being in shoes similar to Avery’s when Jade died, and waited for Doctor Raji’s lead before following her into Avery’s room.
