Aftermath

by Rachel Trautmiller

  Lilly was mad. Amanda got that, because, right now the burn of anger promised to destroy what the giant had left behind of her insides.

  The dark shadow of the other woman, inside the cemetery, caught Amanda’s attention. Lilly squatted in front of one of the headstones. What had prompted her to lie so thoroughly?

  As if she should have known where this conversation was headed, an aggravated huff came from the other side of the car. “I’m questioning where her head is. And if we can afford this kind of wild card.”

  “Wouldn’t it have been easier to say that to begin with? Is there anything else I should know? Any other surprises you want to spring on me?”

  He caught her in his sight. “What do you want from me? Was I supposed to walk through your door, yesterday, and announce that both of our sisters are nut jobs? Steer clear.”

  Her anger deflated a few degrees. “That would have set a bad tone for an already horrific day.”

  As if she wouldn’t ever understand him, he shook his head. Reached for his door.

  Amanda caught his arm, halted his progress. “Let me talk to her.”

  “And have her try to justify actions with hateful words?” A harsh breath left his lips. “I don’t think so.”

  “Because you think I’ll disappear to lick wounds in a corner?”

  He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. The silence answered better than any words. Cut through the center of her.

  She tapped her fingers on the armrest. Found more shadows than light, beyond where they sat. She could open her door and run into them. Disappear before anyone knew which way she’d gone.

  It wasn’t who she was. Nor the woman she strived to be, but a slow death forged out of easy-sounding lies. The truth didn’t still the raging tornado inside of her.

  She gripped the door handle and pulled it. The dome light illuminated Robinson’s stoic expression, currently aimed toward the windshield. The keys were clutched in his fingers as if a more relaxed hold would cause them to slip beyond his reach.

  “We’re in this together.” She enunciated each word, unsure if she did so for herself or him. Then she pushed her door open and stepped into the semi-wet night. “End of story, Robbie.”

  ___

  I KNOW YOU must be hurting. Maybe this will help.

  The five note whistled symphony, in Lilly’s brain, had been on repeat all night. Two more seconds and she might consider leaping in front of the nonexistent traffic on Sugar Creek Road. Just to end the song she couldn’t place.

  And the questions she wouldn’t have answered. By a man she didn’t know at all, beyond one hasty meeting. And one she knew better than a list of drug interactions. They were both dead. And, unless she believed in some mumbo-jumbo about near-death experiences affecting how the living responded to otherworldly things, neither man would be telling her a thing.

  At her sides, Lilly clenched both fists and squinted against a pelting of rain. The wind whipped it around in swirls of warm wetness. She hadn’t thought to grab her jacket. Hadn’t planned on tracking down the drain pipe and up the street. Nor walking the four miles to the cemetery where Jeff rested. Right next to the son she’d never met. Never held. Or kissed.

  She strode through the wrought iron gates and found their home by route. As often as she came, there ought to be a path beaten in the grass. A chair with her name in it, next to gravestones that did little but add tightness to her chest.

  Maybe this will help. If not, feel free to slug me next time we meet.

  Lilly tried to shake Jonas’ words from her head and rested a hand on Jeff’s marker. The damp stone gave nothing but cold silence. His voice and smile were slipping beyond her memory. So much so, she’d swiped Amanda’s computer, earlier, and managed to find a picture of herself with a smiling Jeff, five years ago, at a charity event hosted by Mercy Hospital.

  Even that didn’t seem to stick long in her mind, today.

  Every doctor she’d seen was surprised she had any recall at all. Early on it had been a challenge she couldn’t resist. A game of remember the most and retraining her brain until she couldn’t think straight.

  In the end, it was clear she couldn’t relearn everything. Or keep it all there, all the time. Those same doctors told her to accept her limitations and embrace her second lease on life.

  And it all came down to the fact that she couldn’t. And, until this morning, she’d clung to the mantra and cared about little else. Not her daughter’s needs. Her brother’s anguish.

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. She was tired of being a complete mess. Or nothing at all. Exhausted from the insane woman inhabiting her body.

  She hunkered near the headstone, the whistle increasing. When she should have been rehashing every romantic moment she’d shared with her dead husband, Jonas’ hand-written note popped into her head. Sentences that touched something inside her mind for the first time in forever.

  If she’d been anything but stubborn, she’d have called him up and asked why he’d thought she’d care about the private thoughts of a woman who’d destroyed any semblance of life for her.

  She’d have taken the time to read the diary, if only to prove it didn’t make a difference, long before last night. Had the courage to ask why he’d even bothered.

  He’d risked his life for something two days ago. And now the darkness had him in its clutches. And they’d never know what.

  Unlike Jeff’s smile, the image of Ariana’s tears, as she watched the report of Jonas’ death, wouldn’t ever be replaced or forgotten. The sole-crushing sadness had seeped from her body into Lilly’s. She’d fought against the desire to join her daughter. Shed some of her own tears.

  For once, she’d been what Ariana needed. Could tell in the way the teen clung to her as she whispered soothing words.

  Had Ariana responded the same way to the news of Jeff’s accident? Had she crumbled?

  No one would elaborate on a question she hadn’t dared to ask.

  Lilly gripped the material of her shirt, above her heart. She hadn’t been there. Hadn’t been able to hold her baby as she got the news that daddy wasn’t ever coming back.

  All the while her daughter had likely feared the same fate for her mother. Still did. She could see it in her careful stance and guarded words. Without meaning to, Lilly was teaching her child to keep her heart tucked away where no one could hurt it.

  How was she supposed to live with that?

  “Lilly?”

  The muffled female voice sent her heart scattering for another corner of the cemetery. She jumped upward and scraped the side of her hip against the headstone. Rubbed the offended area. Amanda approached with both hands in her pockets. The street lamp revealed pressed lips and a tight stance.

  Lilly squinted through the dimness. The stiffness remained, as if the other woman held back the biggest tidal wave ever. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Amanda came to stand next to her, facing Jeff’s headstone. “You’ve been crying.” The tone of her words mirrored her stance.

  Lilly swiped at her cheeks. Found more moisture than the sprinkle of rain had put there. “Where’s my brother?”

  Amanda’s gaze flicked toward her a second. “In the truck.”

  Lilly pressed her hand against the swirl starting in her stomach. She’d seen the two of them in a lot of scenarios. Happy, sad, head-over-heels and angry. Their tempers matched and often rivaled each other’s. And neither ever seemed to be afraid to let the truth out.

  Until recently.

  A giant scoop of melted guilt fell on her shoulders. She flicked a glance behind them and spotted her brother’s black SUV. The dome light illuminated his clenched jaw and the way he had a tightened grip on the wheel. His gaze was glued to Amanda, the heat of hot lava and the intensity of the sun beaming in her direction.

  Amanda had some sort of cloaking shield, because she didn’t even seem phased.

  “You’re fighting.�
�

  She shook her head. “He needs a favor, but he doesn’t think you’re ready. I do.”

  “Please, tell me you aren’t arguing over…” Me. But they were. Had been since her outburst during their wedding. Ugly words she hardly remembered saying. An angry blur of hatred, a grown woman should have known better than to release.

  “He’s convinced you’ll run me off.”

  Wow. She shifted. What was she supposed to say in the face of such stark truth?

  “Why did you call the hospital this morning?”

  A million half-answers popped into her mind. Admitting her worry over Jonas’ safety would make her look crazy. Nobody had to point it out. It was. A layer of sweat developed on her palms.

  Amanda folded her arms across her chest. “It’s a crime to impersonate any kind of law enforcement official. Even worse if you use their badge number to obtain information.” Her lips came together in an unforgiving line. “And downright idiotic to use mine.”

  The doctors were wrong. The second chance, here, was one where she made the worst mistakes of her entire forty-two years. And compounded them with irreversible damage.

  “If you haven’t noticed, I’m on super thin ice at every turn, so if you’re going to screw me over, I’d rather get it over with.”

  Lilly blinked. Didn’t dare breathe. Something inside her chest cracked a little. Life was supposed to be so much more than this. “It isn’t what it looks like.” Her voice came out in a teenage-like squeak. She cleared her throat. Felt the heated edge of shame crawl up her neck.

  “In my experience, when people say that, it’s complete crap.”

  Get it together. Fix this.

  Baker Jackson should know better. She would never... But she’d proved she couldn’t be trusted on several occasions. She’d pushed her family away. Proved she didn’t care what happened with her silence. Couldn’t control her self-loathing and anger.

  And left them little choice but to move on without her.

  Amanda hadn’t moved, her gaze on Jeff’s headstone as if he meant something to her. And his death was as devastating to her as it was for Lilly.

  If he could see Lilly now…

  “Not everybody is out to get you, Amanda.” Her voice came out soft and low. It floated on the breeze and mixed with the sound of rain as it splattered around them. Hinted at a bond they could have if she’d allow herself to believe in second chances.

  To get there she’d need to climb a mountain so tall she couldn’t see the tip. Wasn’t sure it existed. And then she’d need a hand up. Would Amanda still be waiting by the time she got her stuff together? Would Baker Jackson or Ariana?

  The other woman’s face didn’t change. Just stayed a mass of storm clouds brewing a hurricane. Had Lilly finally messed things up so bad there was no hope of survival? Would she die right here at the summit?

  “This is embarrassing.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her voice was a mix of boredom and aggravation. A dollop of hurry-up-and-explain-yourself mixed in the swirly confines. Made her feel half her age. And twice as shamed.

  Reminded Lilly of a handful of childhood moments. Usually, she’d had a cohort, in which, to garner strength from. Baker Jackson. One of the neighboring Knight children. This time it was all her. And she wasn’t twelve. “I’ll admit I’ve said and done some questionable things lately.”

  “Yup.”

  Okay, Amanda wasn’t going to make it easy. Understandable. And Lilly didn’t plan to bare her entire soul for pity. Didn’t want it. Wouldn’t be able to stomach it. “They wouldn’t talk to me at first.” And she’d had to know. “The next thing I knew I had your badge in my hand. And the information I wanted—for all the good it did.”

  The slam of a car door caught her attention. Baker Jackson moved around the hood of the vehicle in slow, unsure steps. As if he couldn’t decide the best course of action to avoid all possible land mines. And then he was walking toward them.

  Amanda faced her, but didn’t say anything.

  She could take them both on. Just didn’t want to. Didn’t want to be at odds anymore. “I’m not, nor have I ever planned to screw you over, Amanda. If you haven’t noticed, the Robinson clan is full of hot-headed idiots. I’m their fearless leader—at least in the hot-headed, idiot department.”

  “Not necessarily.” Robinson neared and placed a hand on the small of Amanda’s back. Whispered something in her ear.

  Amanda stuck her tongue in the corner of her cheek and flicked him a sidelong glance. Rubbed the bridge of her nose. “How rusty are your nursing skills, Lilly?”

  Her heart hammered an unsteady tune. A glance at her brother afforded little in the way of answers. “What?”

  “Are you capable of nursing a man back to health? Someone who’s missing a kidney, has his jaw wired shut, can’t see out of one eye, right now, has a broken arm and might need some physical therapy?”

  Lilly’s mouth had gone dry. Everything around them stilled. A tremor took root at her toes and spread upward. What was Amanda saying? Why was she saying it?

  “He’s not dead, Lilly.” Her voice was soft and filled with compassion.

  For once it didn’t grate down her spine.

  “We need your nursing skills. So, tell me I’m not the worst judge of character and you’ll eventually pull your head out and come up for air.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THEY DIDN’T NEED her. There was someone else. More qualified. And just as discreet.

  Lilly’s expertise was labor and delivery. Not med/surge. The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit was different from the regular Intensive Care Unit. The bodies smaller. The monitors even more so. Incubators took up much of the space.

  An infant could crash so much faster than an adult. But an adult could still crash. Jonas had extensive injuries Lilly didn’t know if she could handle. Ones he shouldn’t have survived—many people hadn’t in similar circumstances.

  Even after retaking her nursing boards and passing a few months ago, she hadn’t done anything with it, but keep up with continuing education courses. What if she made a misstep? What if he went down and she didn’t have the supplies required to treat him? Or the quick, on-her-feet knowledge base to draw from.

  What if her mind went blank in his time of crisis?

  With every page of his medical chart she read, it became more apparent how out of practice she was. The man was on a morphine pump. An IV filled with antibiotics. Donor medications to keep his remaining kidney at high functioning levels and a slew of other medications that would require more than one pill box.

  And a doctor to order them.

  If either her brother or Amanda had been inside Jonas’ hospital room right this second, she would have handed the bulky information over and apologized. Slipped out before Jonas could wake up from the remnants of his drug-induced sleep, again.

  The quiet murmur of their voices combined with Jordan’s somewhere outside the room. There would be no easy escape. So, she closed the file, set it in the chair next to her and wandered toward his bed. And tried to ignore the TV hanging opposite them.

  It played the news on a volume so low, she’d need super-hearing to make out the words.

  The pictures were enough. And if she could find the remote, she’d turn the constant loop of news off. No one wanted to see that woman’s face more than once.

  The breathing tube had been removed, his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. The nasogastric feeding tube snaking through his nose, to his stomach, would likely come out next. Provided he wouldn’t fight eating his meals through a straw for the next six weeks, due to a broken jaw he was lucky to have avoided a more serious surgery with.

  The bruising around both eyes had turned a deep purple, but the swelling had receded, leaving only a slight puffiness. No broken orbital sockets to contend with made for faster healing.

  Faint traces of blood tracked across his face, a few swipes stuck in the stubble on his chin and around the lobes of his ears. A split in his
lip looked raw. With everything he’d been through, Lilly imagined the nurse’s aide was hesitant to cause any more damage. Or pain from a simple washing.

  She spied a pink basin with supplies in the corner, near the sink. Found herself crossing to the area and filling it with warm, soapy water. And then she was back at his side, a pair of gloves covering hands that rang out a white wash cloth.

  She hesitated. This wasn’t her place. It was private. Embarrassing.

  And it needed to be done.

  She couldn’t remember how to strum the guitar or talk to her daughter most days, but she obviously hadn’t abandoned the urge to care for a broken body. And removing the red staining proof of his near-death was the least she could do.

  Keeping her touch light, she started on his forehead and moved to his earlobes and jaw. A speck caught her eye near the white cast on his right arm, the blood caked under his fingernails coming into focus next. The callouses on those strong fingers suggested he did some type of manual labor when he wasn’t busy hunting down scum of the earth.

  With careful movements, she turned his arm over and began working on the visible portion of his palm. A faded, black bunching of numbers stopped her. As if he’d scribbled something on his flesh with a ballpoint pen. Or a sharpie.

  He hadn’t moved. His breathing was still even and deep, eyes closed. She dropped her cloth back in the basin and removed her gloves. Against her bare fingers, his skin was warm. She tried to shift the cast away from the area. Made out a five, five, seven, nine followed by lettering that looked like Bellvue. The letters V, U and E had faded to almost nothing, so she wasn’t sure.

  If she had a little more room...

  That hand closed around her fingertips in an awkward hold. Jolted her heart into her throat. Deep brown eyes locked on hers and held, one eye not open all the way. Fear mixed with a deep determination, there, as he scanned her face. For threat? Something else?

  She swallowed. “Jonas, there’s something on your hand.”