Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

by Alexa Padgett

  “Why’s that?” I asked, surprised. Now that I thought of it, I hadn’t seen him in a few days. “He’d want to be here. Did you call him?”

  Chelle shook her head. “No. Last I saw him, he was going home, had some exams.”

  I absorbed that. So much about Kai I didn’t know. “And I’m only supposed to call him in case of an emergency, and the Mother Superior is at the front desk. She’d wrap my knuckles and demote me if I looked up Kai’s number for this.”

  “This doesn’t qualify as an emergency?” I asked, irritation causing my back to straighten further. Chelle shook her head. “What happens to her now?” I dreaded the answer that was sure to come. “To Paige?”

  “Since the hospital hasn’t been able to find a living relative, we’ve already turned the case over to child services. She’s one of Sue’s kids now, which is good. Sue called a while ago and said she’d come by tomorrow.”

  If only I’d seen the SUV sooner. Grief and anger, self-directed, pulsed through my stomach. I’d helped destroy that little girl’s security and love. “And Paige? What happens to her?”

  “Because of the splenectomy, she’s still got a few weeks here with us—especially since the child services won’t have a better place to put her. If no one steps forward, that is.”

  My knowledge about the rest of the process was firsthand. I gripped my stomach, trying to ease the ferocious ache there. “You mean a relative? Obviously there can’t be a close one because no one’s stopped by to visit her.”

  “Right. But CPS spends a couple of months looking for relatives, even distant ones, before they close that part of the child’s file.”

  I absorbed that bit of information. “Not the first time you’ve seen this happen?”

  Chelle shook her head. I tugged at my lower lip.

  “The state will sell her parents’ house, any assets they can, to settle up the hospital bills and whatever other services the state perceives as necessary for Paige. If her parents had life insurance policies, that’ll go into a trust that she’ll be able to access at eighteen. But until she turns seventeen—probably eighteen—Paige will be in the system.

  “If she gets adopted, she won’t have to live in foster care,” Chelle said. She twisted her pony tail into a bun, tucked it under, but the fine hairs slid right out.

  “Are there any prospects?” I asked.

  Chelle shrugged. “You’d have to talk to Sue. That’s why I came by—to let you know she’ll be here tomorrow in case you wanted to visit with her, get the scoop straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

  Something in Chelle’s voice had me searching her eyes. What did the nurse want from me?

  “Would you adopt a four-year-old who’d been in the car when both her parents were killed?” I asked.

  Chelle cleared her throat. “I already have three kids, which was two more than my husband and I agreed on. Twins,” she said, her voice trilling up in nervousness. “And Marcy’s going through a nasty divorce. She and I talked about it the other night. She’s not sure she’s sticking around Seattle much longer.”

  And there went another possibility. They were dropping like flies. Damn people’s complicated lives. “I talked to Marilyn about her,” I said. “She’d foster Paige, but she’s seventy-five and she had a heart attack last year.” I trembled, remembering that long, terrifying night when I thought I’d lose Mama M. Luckily, she’d recovered quickly from what she called a “minor heart attack.” I still worried about her health. “Doesn’t seem fair to Paige. If something were to happen to Marilyn, I mean.”

  “What about you?” Chelle said. Her eyes were steady. That’s where she’d been driving this conversation.

  I blinked, shocked. “I’m still in college.”

  “For another few months. Marilyn told me you’ve taken your foster parenting course, and you’re graduating with one hell of a degree. You’re sure to get snapped up.”

  “I don’t have a job offer in Seattle,” I said, my voice fading. “Not even Washington. And I couldn’t accept the job in California if I wanted to foster Paige. I have to stay in-state.” My knowledge of the system bubbled back to the surface, reminding me of times I’d really rather forget. Thankfully, my bad choices hadn’t been enough to go on my permanent record—not many of them, anyway. That’s why I’d been so focused on getting an education. My ticket out of the poverty cycle of my childhood.

  “Couldn’t you find something here, even if it doesn’t pay as well, for the year? The state will help support Paige’s costs.”

  “I don’t…I don’t know.”

  Silence filled the room before Chelle let out a long sigh and said, “We need to let Kai know. Paige is inconsolable.”

  I nodded, distracted. I laid both palms flat over my leaping stomach.

  “What? Oh. I’ll call him. I have his number.”

  Chelle pursed her lips, her eyes alight. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. I’m gonna go home and hug my kids. Take a bubble bath. Wish the world wasn’t so shitty.” I waved her off, my head still spinning.

  I’d lived within fifteen miles of this location my entire life. Moving wasn’t something I took on without serious dread, especially after Marilyn’s heart attack last year. In fact, the idea of losing the few constancies in my life—Marilyn and the city I loved—scared the spit right out of my mouth.

  Needing to protect Paige, that wasn’t me being too scared to move away. That was me being a mature adult. One who took her responsibilities seriously.

  I heard Paige’s voice before I even made it into her room, but she didn’t sound like the exuberant child I’d left a couple of days ago. This child’s voice was strident, angry.

  “What wrong, sweetie?”

  “I wants Kai!”

  “He’s visiting his mother. He said he’d come by tomorrow.”

  “No! I wants him now!” Paige screamed, her voice both rising and turning to a growl at the same time. She arched her neck, her fists pounding into the mattress.

  “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “Now!” She thrashed, her small body rigid. Unsure how to handle this raging, I bent down and held her. Her thin arms slid around my neck and she hugged me tight as she sobbed into my neck.

  My eyes burned for this child who would have to live with the same grief I’d shouldered at sixteen. We stayed wrapped around each other as I tried to absorb her fear and sadness. Eventually, her sobbing subsided and her arms slid from my neck.

  Her small face was blotched and swollen. Her eyes dropped as much from the crying jag as the exhaustion setting in. I pressed a kiss to her hair.

  “I’m here for you, Paige. I want you to know that.”

  She nodded, but her eyes didn’t sparkle like they had before. Anger clawed at my gut. Life wasn’t supposed to be this hard for a child.

  “I miss my mommy. I don’t wants to live with a new family. I wants my mommy back.”

  “You have me,” I said. My voice was soft. “I’m your friend.”

  Paige’s lip pushed out with a stubbornness I hadn’t seen before. “It’s not the same.”

  Paige had been asleep in the car. When she woke up, she was disoriented, scared, hurt, and practically parentless. I couldn’t imagine just how difficult that transition was.

  “If you want, I’ll come visit you,” I said. “Wherever you are.”

  Paige turned her head on the pillow, her big eyes wide with trust. God, what this little girl’s eyes did to me. At four years old, Paige had already seen more of life’s difficulties than most adults. I knew, right then, I was going to fight for her—do everything I could to make her happy and keep her safe. No matter who was responsible for the car accident, I felt responsible for this child.

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  Marilyn unlocked the door to my apartment and helped me in. My ribs didn't ache as much, but I wearied quickly. Walking from the car to my couch seemed more like a trek up Mount Baker—something I’d tried once
before, realizing I was never going to be one of those weekend hiker people. A few miles, sure, but a full day trekking up loose scree and climbing over boulders? No way on God’s green earth, which existed just outside my apartment, thank you very much. Better yet, the space outside my apartment provided flat, easy terrain in the form of sidewalks.

  Today, strolling on paved paths was beyond me. Right now, getting to the bathroom on my own again was the extent of my goals.

  “Your nurse said you'd be tired this next week or two. That's your body's way of telling you to take it easy.”

  “I'm leaving the coffee shop without a current shift schedule, Marilyn. And you know Henry needs supervision to clean the equipment properly.”

  “You wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for the coffee shop.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Marilyn shoved her fists against her hips. “Don't think I don't know about your trip to Costco to buy more travel cups since the shipment didn't come in. Henry was beside himself when he found the box he'd signed for and hadn't told you about.”

  “So it did come?” I wasn't surprised. Henry wasn't what one would call the most observant or detail-oriented worker. But the kid's heart was in the right place. Most of the time.

  “I need to head down there and sort out everyone’s shifts and take a look at what I needed to order,” I said.

  “Psh, sister. You need to heal. Now, tell me where you were after the fateful Costco trip.”

  I didn't want to tell Marilyn. “I went to the cemetery,” I mumbled.

  “Why would you do a thing like that, Evangeline? You know better than to go to such a place, in the dark, by yourself.”

  “It was my mom's birthday,” I said, not meeting her gaze. “She would have been fifty.”

  “Oh, sweetie. Come here.”

  Marilyn pulled me close, swaying back and forth.

  “I shouldn't miss her,” I said. “I don't.” She'd been a pretty poor excuse for a mom for years before her eventual death a few months shy of my seventeenth birthday.

  “Then why?”

  “I'm not sure. I needed to go and say . . . goodbye, I think. Yeah, I was telling her goodbye. For good.”

  Marilyn held me for a few minutes, and I relaxed into her embrace.

  “Are you going to tell me about your side trip to take Henry to that party?” Marilyn asked.

  “Nope. I'm not telling you about that.”

  “Your heart is so big, Evie. You gotta keep a lid on that sucker if you want to be able to make it another year.”

  “That's not what you do.” I pointed out. Marilyn was the most giving woman I'd met.

  “To the right people, doll.”

  “So you've met the wrong kind?”

  “A few times. Never works out well. Now, let's settle you on this here couch.”

  “I should call my advisors.” I sighed. “I’d like to go into the lab, look at my samples.”

  “All taken care of. You’ll go in next Monday, but this week is for resting.” Marilyn stood, her knees creaking as she puffed up to standing. “Nothing else. I'll be checking in on you to make sure you're following orders.”

  I gripped her hand, no longer shocked by how pale my skin looked next to her dark coloring. Her Kenyan heritage was visible in her high cheek bones and her regal movements. Marilyn's grandmother moved her family to Great Britain when her father, a well-respected member of the Samburu tribe, was mauled to death by a lion while trying to protect his flock. Marilyn's mother was still a child when her mother married an American who worked for the American Ambassador. Marilyn's mother didn't marry so well, thus her poverty-stricken childhood.

  “You don't have anything to prove, Evangeline. Not to me, not to anyone.”

  “Except I do. I don't want to let you down.”

  “How could you, sweetie? You've worked your booty off for your opportunities. Along with more than your share of hardship.” Marilyn patted my hand. “It's why I liked you so very much from the beginning.

  “Your background's more interesting than mine,” I said, smiling.

  “Maybe. But doesn't mean you can demean the hard work you've put in to make that coffee shop a success. Or yourself, either. I remember you as a scared fifteen-year-old, you'll remember.”

  “I do remember. I should've taken you up on your offer then, Mama M. Things might be different now. Better.”

  “None of this maudlin, sugar pie. Give yourself some time to heal. Now,” Marilyn said, heading toward my kitchen. While I tended to be neat, the shininess of my appliances told me Marilyn had been here to clean up. Affection for this woman flooded my system. “I'll fix you some water and some snacks. I'll be back later to make you a proper dinner.”

  “I love you, Mama M.”

  “Not as much as I love you, Evie.”

  “Don't worry about me. You need to get back to your life.”

  Marilyn had bustled into the kitchen without replying. Instead, she got out a water bottle and filled it before putting some orange slices, cheese, and crackers on a plate from the cupboard.

  She set it all down on the table next to me. After pulling out my e-reader from the bag she'd carried up for me, she bent down and placed a kiss on my forehead. “You and my nephew are the very best parts of my life, Evangeline. Let me fuss a bit. Makes me feel important.”

  I smiled as she pulled a thick blanket over my legs, careful not to jostle my sore ribs.

  “I'll be back in a few hours,” she said. She waggled a finger in front of my nose. “Do not get up for any reason.”

  “Just a bathroom break,” I promised.

  Marilyn closed the door and I heard the key turn in the lock. I smiled, warmth filling my chest. That lady. Meeting her the second time had been the clincher of turning my life from too-hard to doable. I owed Marilyn so much, but she wouldn't let me give her back anything.

  Over the next two days, my dissertation deadline loomed with heavy weight on my shoulders. Each day, I worked on the revisions until my eyes grew too heavy to hold open. Marilyn came back to fuss over me each evening. Tonight, she brought a big takeout container of pho, my most favorite meal. We ate it in companionable silence while watching The Walking Dead. Though I'd napped off and on, I was still exhausted. Marilyn waited while I went through my bed-time routine. Once I was settled in bed, she left, promising to come back by tomorrow morning.

  After the two-week stint in the hospital, my apartment’s solitude closed in around me. Shocking though it was, I missed the steady hum, dim lights, and beeping machines. I climbed out of bed and turned the fan on high. The slight swish was better than the absolute quiet. I pulled my covers back up to my neck, wincing. While my ribs were still sore, I wasn't anywhere near as badly off as I'd been.

  After another hour of staring at my ceiling, I picked up my phone and pulled up my music app. I set Ibeyi on repeat, turned the volume way down and shut my eyes. Better.

  I was just about asleep when my phone chirped with a text. We missed you today though I'm glad you busted out of this place. Let me know when you want to see Paige. She said I have to pick you up.

  Kai. I smiled at his comments, sure he was the one who was offering. He couched most of his thoughtful gestures as Paige's ideas. After debating for a week and a half, I'd caved and looked him up on Google. His band was much more successful than I would've guessed. Kai didn't act all stuck up and bratty like I would have expected. I'd read, enthralled, the long tale of how Jenna, the friend he'd mentioned, was hospitalized after ingesting a near-lethal dose of the date-rape drug GHB. Jenna hadn’t returned to school this quarter and word around campus was she’d stayed in Austin.

  No wonder Kai was trying to do good in this world—trying to make sense of senseless evil that ripped the beautiful blonde from his life.

  The picture was still burned there, in my mind, of Kai with his arm slung with such casual possessiveness over her shoulder. They'd been laughing together, comfortable and happy in each other's c
ompany.

  I longed for that level of acceptance. Marilyn and I had it, but I'd been so closed off after my mom's run-ins with her dealers and probable pimp. Then there'd been the gang girls who'd wanted to recruit me. Yeah, being closed off had been the only way to protect myself.

  I miss Paige. And you, too. But I didn't type those words.

  Don't worry. She kicked my ass at Monopoly and Sorry. We're having a rematch soon. Oh! And the book you gave her—Rosie Revere, Engineer—is awesome! We read it four times.

  I smiled, my fingers brushing over the screen. I wanted to touch his cheeks, run my fingertips over his full lips.

  So glad!

  How’s the dissertation coming?

  Not as well as I’d hoped. And I’d received a harried letter from one of my two advisors telling me if I didn’t turn in the revised draft by the second week of April, at the very latest, the others wouldn’t have enough time to read and sign off on my dissertation before the commencement on June 10. Not that I could tell Kai that. We were nothing more than passing acquaintances who happened to share an interest in an orphaned child. Didn’t matter how strong my attraction to him was—and that the anomaly of the attraction intrigued and terrified me in equal measure. Not Kai’s problem, and not one I knew how to handle.

  Fine. I'm sleepy now. Text you tomorrow.

  I turned off my phone, forcing away images in my mind of Kai holding me, as I fell asleep.

  After a restless night broken by flashes of Kai’s face leaning in, those lips about to touch mine, interspersed with memories of the accident and Paige’s tears, I shuffled into the bathroom and eyed my shower with longing. For the past couple weeks, I'd had only sponge baths and a couple hurried showers because they’d required so much help from Chelle.

  I stepped in and turned the hot water knob on full blast, reveling in the warmth that seeped into my tired skin. I showered slowly, my movements weighed down by the dull ache that still resonated from my ribs, but I was grateful that I had healed enough to do this on my own.