by Lindsey Hart
“Good lord, you’re on fire.”
Effie stripped the quilt away, aware that the action caused Jordan’s sweat to cool. He shivered violently and still didn’t open his eyes.
She realized, as she lifted the sheet off, that he was delirious, his fever was so high. She debated the wisdom of asking Ted to find a hospital. Almost all the other crew members had come through the flu alright. It generally only lasted twenty-four hours. She thought that Jordan had come down with it that morning when she’d asked him if everything was alright. She recalled his red-rimmed eyes and the sweat that stood out on his brow. Yes, he definitely had come down with it that morning. She didn’t know what time it was, the middle of the night probably, which meant that he really only had a couple more hours to sweat it out. By the time they found a hospital, derailing the whole procession, the fever would probably have broken.
She figured Jordan would be furious if she let that happen. What could the hospital do for a virus anyway? Likely nothing short of putting an IV into Jordan to keep him hydrated.
Effie stepped out into the small hall, walked past the bunks, damp quilt and sheet bundled in her arms. She dumped them into the small washer.
The small bathroom had a store of washcloths folded away at the edge of the sink. She wet it and carried it back to Jordan’s room where she moistened his blistered lips and placed it on his forehead. She went back for a fresh sheet and a dry blanket and once he was covered up the shivers didn’t seem so violent.
She took her seat in the chair again, feeling completely and utterly helpless as Jordan tossed and turned, moaning in that half strangled, half silent way that was uniquely his.
She couldn’t say why she’d carefully not noticed the scars. She’d been so busy before trying not to look at him when he’d taken off his shirt that her eyes hadn’t really focused or perhaps it was her brain that refused to take in what those scars meant.
Now that she’d seen the silvery lines, Effie leaned forward in her chair. The lighting on the bus was faint, spilling in from a small light in the hall, but it was enough to notice the silvery, puckered lines on the side of his neck. They trailed lower, irregular, some white, some raised, some faint and spidery, down under the edge of the quilt. The urge to rip that blanket off and see just how far those scars reached was so great, Effie’s hands itched.
No. I can’t do that. It would be like a betrayal.
Instead, she leaned back, shut her eyes and counted down the hours to morning. It couldn’t come soon enough. As she drifted off again, she realized two horrible, undisputable facts. The first was that the likeliness of Jordan being born mute like he’d said was slim. The second was that she cared far, far too much when she had absolutely no right to.
CHAPTER 12
Effie
The bus was still steadily moving forward, swaying and rocking and bumping down the road, when Effie woke the next morning, crammed into the little bucket chair she’d spent most of her fretful night hours sitting in.
The first thing she did was reach out and place a hand on Jordan’s forehead. His eyes were closed, and long dark lashes rested against his pale cheek. He was still asleep and resting peacefully at last. As she suspected, his fever had finally broken. He didn’t stir at her touch or at her sigh of utter relief.
Daylight streamed through the blinds on both sides of the bedroom. She reached for her phone, which she had set down on the nightstand by the bed sometime during the long hours of the night. It was just past noon.
She stood slowly, stretching out muscles that were beyond cramped. She’d never in her life fallen asleep in a chair, especially not such an uncomfortable one. The thing was meant for staging. The little leather tub had probably come with the bus.
Effie’s mouth was bone dry and sour tasting. Her clothes were rumpled, and she felt sweaty and strangely old. She was in dire need of a shower or a good teeth brushing, but she sucked it up and instead slipped quietly from the room.
She walked past the rows of bunks lining both sides of the walls, through the narrow corridor, past the small bathroom, through the kitchen and living area, to the front of the bus.
She didn’t stop until she plopped down in the passenger seat beside Ted. She reached for the belt and buckled herself in. A glance out the window told her nothing other than the fact that they were probably somewhere in Washington by then. She didn’t even know where their next tour stop was. Her schedule was folded into her bunk. It was the last thing she honestly cared about.
“Rough night?”
“You can say that.”
Ted turned his ever-alert eyes her way for a second before he resumed watching the road. “I’m glad there was someone here with him.”
Effie sighed. “I feel like we should have gone to the hospital. I was worried his fever was so bad it was going to cook his brain or something. Can that even happen?”
Ted snorted. “Of all the things I’ve ever seen damage someone’s brain, a fever ain’t one of them. Not that I’m sayin’ it can’t happen. I just know how much Jordan hates hospitals. He would have never agreed to go into one, even delirious. It would have just wasted time, derailin’ the whole tour.”
“I can’t even believe he didn’t cancel the show last night. He knew he wasn’t feeling well. He looked like hell in the morning. I even asked him several times if he was okay. He probably won’t cancel the show tomorrow night either.”
“Not if I know Jordan.” Ted flashed a smile that turned his wrinkled face up in all the right places.
It’s funny, how wrinkles can also give the impression of a strange sort of youthfulness.
“Why does he hate hospitals?”
Ted shrugged in that knowing way that said he did know why, but he wasn’t going to divulge the information.
“Do you ever sleep?” Effie finally asked. She turned her eyes out her window and stared at the green grass flashing by. It was better than looking out the windshield at the miles of endless road. She was sure she’d get hypnotized right away by the flashing white lines if she had to drive all day, every day.
“When you get to be old and wrinkled like me, sleep becomes less important. I do sleep, I just don’t need as much as you might think. I guess I could say that I’ll sleep when I’m dead, which I’m sure will come soon enough.”
“Ted!” Effie choked.
He just chuckled gruffly, that chuckle turning into a raspy sort of cough that indicated he was once a hard smoker. “Jordan’s fever finally break?”
“Yah. Sometime in the night. I fell asleep, so I don’t know when it happened. I tried to stay awake, but I just couldn’t anymore.”
“You did more than anyone else would have done. He probably fought you tooth and nail.”
“Of course. At least until he was too far gone to care anymore.”
Ted’s tone turned soft. “It’s been a wicked couple days. I’m glad you were the one here on the bus. No one else would have supported Jordan through this.”
Effie was baffled. “A flu? I’m sure he would have been fine…”
“Ain’t the fever I was talkin’ about. Jordan lost his grandpa. He passed in his sleep yesterday mornin’. The guy meant everythin’ to him. More than anythin’ in the world.”
“What?” she started, her mouth falling open. “Why didn’t he say anything?” She thought of the crash she’d heard, Jordan’s haunted, red-rimmed eyes. He’d passed it off as lack of sleep. It was so clear there was something wrong, but he’d made it just as clear that he wasn’t going to discuss it with her.
“That’s just Jordan. Of course, he ain’t gonna say anything.”
“I know that,” Effie ground out, wondering how the hell Ted could make a joke in the middle of the worst news.
“I know what you’re thinin’,” Ted cut in, using that soft, gentle tone of his. She didn’t know the man well, and it took her a second to realize that his gentle voice and the soft lilting words came from a place he’d left long ago. She didn’t kno
w if it was overseas or the deep south, or somewhere completely opposite. “How can I joke about it? I’m not jokin', honey. I’m using humor because sometimes that’s all a body can do.”
“Why wouldn’t he cancel the show last night? He lost his grandpa and he wasn’t feeling well. God, he’s so…”
“What? Stubborn? That’s right. Jordan in a nutshell. He’s tough because that’s how he has to be. Underneath that though, I can tell he’s not that way. He’s lonely, honey. Lonely and sad.”
“How do you know?” Effie whispered. She felt the same thing. It was the feeling she’d had since she’d really first started to talk to Jordan. She just couldn’t put into words what it was exactly that she felt.
“That guy in his books, in his talks, that’s someone else. It’s the man he strives to be and wants to be and sometimes is, but there is this other side. The side that doubts and struggles. He went through a lot when he was young and even though he pulled himself up and got himself through, he still needs someone at his side.”
“Someone?” she swallowed hard, trying to cram down the heated awareness that spread through her body like a wildfire.
“A friend.”
“Oh. Yah.” Effie blushed. She kept her gaze trained out the window, hoping Ted couldn’t see her burning face. One look into her eyes at that moment and he’d know what she couldn’t even admit to herself.
She felt something. She’d felt it from the second she’d learned about the job opportunity for the tour and had typed the name Jordan Wall into her laptop. It was his eyes. People said the eyes were the window to the soul. She knew right away, just from a stoic headshot for his book cover, that Jordan Wall had a soul that had bleeding cracks all over it.
And what do I want to be? The binding that sews it all up?
She nearly laughed at the idea. Here she was, making up ridiculous metaphors about the strange magnetism she’d always known was there. She’d tried to resist it. She’d told Cora that she had no interest in Jordan. That he was greasy, not her type. She’d said unkind things about him, doubted the validity of his books and his work. She’d tried so hard to keep her heart safe.
The truth was, she’d never taken a chance on anything in her life. Not one damn thing. She’d stayed at home, in the same small town. She’d grown up there and she’d worked there. She never had a dream in her head she dared entertain.
Until that very moment.
Jordan is what I want. He’s my dream.
“Jordan walks around like he’s got all the answers because what worked for him changed other people’s lives. What he used to cope and get him through the hard times inspired others. He found all this fame and this almost celebrity status, but really he’s alone.”
“He wants it that way,” Effie protested. An image of Jordan’s wounded eyes after he’d tried to kiss her and she’d pulled away flashed through her mind, undermining the truth of her words. “If he didn’t, he would ask for help.”
Ted didn’t respond for a long while. Only the hiss of the air conditioner and the normal rattle of dishes in the back broke the silence.
Finally, he cleared his throat. His hands tightened almost imperceptibly on the wheel. “Like I said, honey, sometimes he can’t, and I ain’t talkin’ about his being mute.”
She finally got it. She finally understood what Ted was trying to say. He hadn’t been trying to make a joke earlier, even though he said he was using humor to get through the tough times. No, he was trying to tell her something that was really damn important. Something she just didn’t get, because she herself wasn’t like that. She’d always had parents she could count on, a sister she loved, friends to support her. She’d always had someone who understood her, someone she could talk to. Really talk to and trust. She’d never been afraid to reach out. For her, seeking help wasn’t a weakness, it was a strength.
What if I wasn’t raised that way? What if people had treated me cruelly? Beat me, broken my body, said unspeakable things to me. What if that shell I built around myself not only kept people at bay but locked in all that hurt?
Effie reached up to brush a lock of hair away from her face. It was tickling her cheek. She was shocked when her hands came away wet. She didn’t even realize she was crying.
“You know what I do when I need a break from it all?”
“What’s that?” She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Sit back, watch the road, enjoy the beauty all around us and listen to a real good thriller.”
“A thriller?”
She saw what he meant a second later when he pushed the play button on the controls and an audio book started up. The deep, rich voice was instantly soothing and even though she wasn’t in the right frame of mind, she couldn’t help but be sucked into the story.
Effie did watch the road. She kind of saw what Ted meant. It was oddly alluring, the flashing grass passing and the endless road meeting an endless sky like a never-ending mystery. It was peaceful, and soon enough, almost against her will, Effie’s heavy eyes closed, and she found the sweet, restful arms of sleep.
CHAPTER 13
Jordan
It was amazing what a refreshing shower could do. It almost served to make him human again. He felt astoundingly better. Weak, thirsty as hell, but better. No twisting stomach, aching muscles, violent chills and splitting headache.
He’d dressed after, choosing jeans and a t-shirt instead of fussier dress clothes. It was late afternoon and he didn’t have anywhere to be. They’d pulled into the parking lot of the conference center hours ago, where the show was going to be held the following night. It’s what had woken him in the first place, the slowing cadence of the bus.
He’d made quick work of the bed, stripping and dropping the sheets into the small washer in the hallway. There was one spare set left, so he’d made the bed up with them. They were raspy cotton, not a high thread count like the rest, but he didn’t truly care.
After parking the bus, Ted came sauntering back, ready for a refreshing bottle of water and dinner. He flashed Jordan a wide grin when he saw him. Jordan popped out his earbuds even though he could read lips. He remained in a reclined position on the couch.
“Effie’s sleeping up front. Has been for hours.”
Jordan nodded once. He figured she was up there, or in one of the bunks. He’d tried to be quiet after waking. He’d done the laundry then sprawled out on the couch, nursing a bottle of water, earbuds in his ears, a meditation playing on the brand new phone Ted had been kind enough to buy him to replace the one he’d unceremoniously smashed against the bedroom wall.
He needed to keep his mind busy until tomorrow. Until the show. Then after that, until the next show and the next and the next. He needed to stay focused. He knew that if he had so much as a moment of free time, a minute for true reflection, the grief that had wrapped itself like a cold band around his heart would creep up again, crawl up his throat and suffocate him.
“She was up all night.”
He extended a hand and Ted thrust the all too familiar notepad and pen into his palm. He quickly wrote, I hardly remember anything. Poor girl.
“Poor girl is right. You’re not the best patient that ever walked the earth, but it wasn’t that last night. She said you were delirious.”
I might well have been. God, that was awful. The worst twenty-four hour thing I’ve ever had.
“You’re lucky it was only twenty-four hours. She came up front this morning and said you probably should have gone to the hospital. I informed her you didn’t like them.”
Jordan scribbled something else. How do you know?
Ted shrugged. “You said something about it in your show one time. I think that’s where I heard it. Anyway, I never forgot. There’s not much that I don’t keep stored away up here.” He pointed to his silver temple.
A movement behind Ted caused Jordan to sit upright.
Find yourself.
Was it some mistake he thought of his grandfather’s w
ords the second he spotted Effie? She looked like a vision through her beautiful blonde hair was mussed at the side and back, standing out at different angles and matted in spots. Her eyes were tired, with dark purple bags underneath, but they shone with the same kindness that they always had. Her generous lips turned up in a smile that was completely radiant.
“Jordan,” she said softly. She stretched her arms above her head and stifled a yawn. Her smile was right back after it though. “I’m so glad you’re up. Are you feeling better?”
He nodded briefly, strangely moved at the depth of feeling in her eyes. She looked at him like she truly cared. It wasn’t just some act or some farce. She hadn’t looked after him because she’d been forced to do it. She could easily have helped him onto the bus and gone to bed herself.
“Well I’m thirsty and I’m starving. Would you like me to make you something to eat? Both of you?”
Ted shook his head. “I’m going out for the evening. After a day of driving, I need to relax a little, stretch my legs.”
Effie nodded. Her face was infinitely soft, and it was clear that she liked Ted as much as Jordan himself did. Ted was just like that. He had a grandfatherly nature. He could be kind or crass in turns. He could entertain you for hours with his stories. You had to be a truly disagreeable person not to get along with him.
“Makes sense. Thank you so much for driving us and getting us there safely. I never worry when I’m on the bus with you behind the wheel.”
She walked towards Ted and thrust herself at him, arms outstretched, in what Jordan thought was a rather shocking display of affection. Maybe it was because he didn’t come from a family who hugged. He couldn’t remember his mother and father ever telling him they loved him, though he was sure they probably did.
On the other hand, Jordan had always known his grandpa loved him. He’d never doubted that though the old man was much the same. He’d grown up hard and rough without two dimes to rub together. Dirt poor. Raised in the old-fashioned way with a heap of discipline and hard love.
