The Ninth Floor

by Liz Schulte

  “The girl with more guys tuning in than Sports Center wants to have dinner with her brother? What’s the catch?”

  I gave an unladylike snort and shook my head. “No catch. I messed up our dinner, and we haven’t had much time to hang out. Besides, I lost my purse, so you’re buying.”

  Blair narrowed his eyes and stared at me until I frowned at him. “Should I take this as a hint you’re leaving soon? It’s this Briggs person, isn’t it? I don’t know what he did, but it must’ve been bad to make you that angry. Don’t go back with him.”

  “It isn’t Briggs, and I’m not going anywhere with him or anyone.”

  “So you’re staying in Goodson Hollow?”

  “Would I be fixing the apartment if I wasn’t?”

  “That’s not an answer, Ryan.”

  I sighed. “You understand Bee’s condition, right?”

  He shrugged. “She needs a transplant, but what will you do after that?”

  “Even if she gets a transplant and survives the surgery, she’ll still need me here. Her recovery will be slow, and after that she’ll be on anti-rejection medications which will compromise her immune system. If we get five or ten more years with her, we’ll be lucky. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m here to stay.”

  Blair chewed his lip in a manner that reminded me of myself. “I didn’t realize …That’s why you’re always at the hospital, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “And there’s no guarantee she’ll get the transplant in time or that it will take.”

  “What will you do if she dies?”

  I frowned, not wanting to think about that. “I don’t know. She loves the store and I’d hate to get rid of it, but I have to live my own life, and Blueberry isn’t my dream, it’s hers.” No matter how true my words were though, the idea of selling Bee’s store made me want to throw up. “Who knows what I’ll do.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  That was an excellent question. What did I want to do? I’d liked my job, but it wasn’t hard to give it up to come here. Maybe I’d have been happier as a journalist, but maybe not. The newspaper didn’t define who I was in any way. I thought about the things I liked and wanted to do. It wasn’t out of the question that I could break open the trust and buy the newspaper here, but what if that wasn’t what I really wanted? Maybe I wanted to travel and write. “I don’t know, but if it makes you feel better, I have no plans to leave in the immediate future, no matter what the outcome is.”

  “I guess Briggs is wasting his time then?”

  I shrugged, trying to seem cool, but my hands tightened into fists until my knuckles were white.

  “What the hell did he do to you, Ryan?”

  “He broke my heart.”

  Blair shook his head. “I can’t believe he’s staying at the house.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me at all. I knew Mom and Dad, Mom especially, would be over the moon about him.”

  “Then why did you date him?”

  “Because we were young, he understood me and the world I came from, and he was like me then. I was completely enamored with him. I thought Briggs was it.”

  “What do you mean ‘it’?”

  “The one I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I never questioned it.”

  “He doesn’t look that tough. I could probably kick his ass for you. Just sayin’.”

  I laughed. “Thank you, but no. If anyone gets to kick his ass, it’ll be me.”

  “How about Jack? The two of you seem…close.”

  “I like him.”

  “Just like?”

  “I have a lot to figure out.”

  Blair’s brow furrowed.

  “What?”

  “Jack will definitely keep you here. Mom doesn’t like him at all, so that has to work in his favor. And he seems to care about you, not the money—another point for him.”

  “I take it you’re rooting for Jack?”

  Blair rolled his eyes. “The less I know about your love life, the better. I’m rooting for Ryan staying in Goodson Hollow. If that means you choose Jack, then I don’t object to him. He’s cool. But if you decide Briggs is the guy for you, and he’s willing to move back, that’s cool too.”

  “You’re no help.” Blair shrugged, not looking sorry at all. I pulled into Bee’s driveway “How about you? Any girls back at school have your attention?”

  Blair shrugged noncommittally. “None as hot as Vivian.”

  “She’s too old for you.”

  “She’s your age. That’s not old.”

  “I didn’t say she was old. I said she’s too old for you. You should date someone your own age.”

  “Because that worked out so well for you?”

  I scowled. That was a low blow.

  “And how much older is Jack?”

  “That’s completely different.”

  “What was that? How much older?”

  I climbed out of the car, doing some quick math and rough estimates in my head. I figured he couldn’t be younger than thirty-three but was probably closer to thirty-five. “I don’t know …Probably seven to ten years.”

  Blair smiled. “Vivian’s only six years older than me. She’s fun, she’s smokin’ hot, she’s got her own money, and you like her enough to let her move in with you.”

  I didn’t make any further comment. I’d seen this coming and Vivian knew my feelings about it. Maybe I was wrong, but I wanted my brother to wait to get all attached to someone. After all, as he’d pointed out himself, young love hadn’t worked out so well for me.

  “Are you having dinner with me tonight or not?” I asked after we finished watering the plants.

  Blair flung his arm around my shoulder. “How could I say no to my favorite sister?”

  “I’m your only sister.”

  “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

  Chapter 15

  Blair hung out at the hospital the rest of the afternoon. The two of us chatted with Bee, who seemed much more like her normal herself after lunch. We laughed and talked about everything, and by the time we left, she could hardly keep her eyes open. I had the notion I should bring Ashley next time. If it made Bee this happy that Blair and I were friends, what would including Ashley do? We’d started for the elevator when I remembered I forgot my cell phone on Bee’s bedside table. I ran back to her room and grabbed it. Sitting next to my chair was my purse.

  The unsettling knowledge that there was no way I’d overlooked my bag earlier sent chills down my back, but I didn’t want to ruin yet another evening with my brother. I started back out, nearly plowing over a nurse.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, catching her shoulder.

  “No problem.” She smiled kindly. “You must be Ryan. Bee speaks of you often when she can’t sleep.”

  “Yes, I am Ryan. It’s nice to meet you—”

  “Paula.”

  “Paula.” I shook her hand. “Were you here last night?”

  She nodded and frowned. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Didn’t you hear? Your aunt was found sleepwalking. For someone in her condition to move that easily must be some sort of medical miracle.”

  “Where was she found?”

  “In the stairwell.” Paula shook her head. “I don’t even want to know what would’ve happened had she fallen. Or how on earth we missed her leaving her room. But no harm done, and I’ll be extra vigilant tonight, even if I have to station myself outside her door. You have my word.”

  I walked out of the hospital in shock. Bee had walked all around, up and down stairs, when she could hardly make it ten feet without having to rest in the wheelchair when we went on walks. And what was she doing in the stairwell? Her comment about the light came back to me—and the sight of the open padlock flashed in my mind. Had Bee been on the ninth floor? And more importantly, why had Jack lied to me?

  “What happened?” Blair asked as I walked up.

  “Nothing.” I d
idn’t want to upset him until I had more figured out. “I was just talking to Bee’s nurse—and I found my purse.”

  I let Blair choose the restaurant. We ended up in a place called Bada Bings where the waitresses all wore shirts a size too small and skirts that didn’t leave much to the imagination, but he swore to me the pizza was the best in town. I glanced around, wondering if Aiden would like it here and if he came in to eat at all the same restaurants as me. We ordered a large pizza called the Darwin—turkey, peppers, artichokes, and tomatoes—and I tried to enjoy Blair’s company, but the hospital was still bugging me. What happened last night simply wasn’t possible. I could be fine with ghosts, but how could Bee do what she did? Was it the ghost? Was it something else? And again, why did Jack lie to me?

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Hmmm?” I looked up at him.

  “You totally zoned out—and you’re glaring at your water. What’s going on?”

  I shook my head. “What do you know about St. Michael’s?”

  “Are you talking about those ridiculous ghost stories?”

  “You know about them?”

  “Sure, everyone does.” He looked sheepish. “Well, maybe only people who went to school here.”

  “You don’t believe?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know anyone who has been on the ninth floor?”

  “No, it’s closed because of the fire.”

  “What fire?”

  “Some crazy woman with postpartum set the floor on fire. The story goes she had a stillborn baby and just went nuts. Killed a lot of people.” They called out our pizza order at the front and Blair hopped up to get it while I stewed.

  “Why didn’t they just renovate?”

  “People were too freaked out about it, but someday when people forget and stop telling stupid stories, I bet they’ll reopen it.”

  “What if I told you I heard someone or something whispering my name in Bee’s room?”

  “I’d say someone is messing with you, or you were sleeping.”

  “You’re so sure?”

  “Ryan—ghosts, really?”

  “There was a light on the ninth floor last night. I saw it from my balcony.”

  Blair thought about it and nodded. “Maybe they’re finally starting to work on it. It would make sense to do it at night, secretly, little by little, since it still terrifies the masses.”

  “Did you know Mom and Dad gave five million to build a new maternity wing?”

  Blair shook his head. “Hmph, no. See, maybe they aren’t so bad. You stayed away all this time for no reason.”

  I laughed. “Why does Mom hate Jack?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Who knows? She’s impossible to please. Dad thinks she flipped out because he was the first guy you brought home, and he wasn’t who she expected.”

  “What about Ash? What does he think?”

  “Whatever Mom tells him to.” Blair gave me a wry smile. “It’s amazing we turned out so well-adjusted.”

  “Well-adjusted? You have a thing for cougars and my only boyfriend left me without so much as a sticky note of explanation. I don’t know that we’re doing as well as you think.”

  “First, twenty-six is not a cougar. At most it’s a lynx. Second, did he seriously do that? Third, we are doing better than we have any reasonable expectation for. You got a real job and worked for a living. That’s more than Mom, Dad, or Ashley ever tried to do. You inspired me to do the same. Mom wasn’t thrilled I wanted to be a vet, but she’s coming around to it. She even started bragging to her friends about how smart I am and how I’m making my own way. It’s what I want to do. I don’t want to be CEO or work for the company. We have Ash for that. I want to do what makes me happy.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” I smiled at Blair, and grabbed another piece of pizza. Blair had been right. It was delicious.

  “If you give Mom a shot and don’t push her buttons the second you see her, the two of you might be able to stand each other for more than five minutes. We both know Mom has her faults, but I don’t know. She has good qualities too. Just something to keep in mind.”

  I shook my head. “You and Jack.”

  “I’m liking him more and more.”

  The rest of dinner went by in a flash, and after I dropped Blair off at our parents’, I walked the dogs, making sure to keep Aiden’s car in sight. Then later, when I got home again, I pulled the scrapbook out of my bag and curled up on the couch. I flipped past the last article I’d read and came to a personal letter. I was struggling to decipher the overly curly handwriting when there was a knock at my door. The dogs barked and carried on. I sighed. Couldn’t I just have one night?

  “Sid, Nancy. Sit.” Both dogs sat but eyed the door suspiciously.

  I figured it was Jack, and I was okay with that. He had a lot of explaining to do. I threw open the door to see Briggs leaning against the frame. No cocky grin, no inflated self-confidence, no masks of any kind. His face was serious and his eyes were filled with emotion, which stilled anything bitter I might have said.

  “I miss you,” he said after we stared at each other for several minutes. “The other guy answering your phone didn’t make me miss you any more than I did from the day I left. It made me realize I didn’t want to give up on us without a fight.” He swallowed hard. “I left because I didn’t think you would understand what I was going through. I should have given you a chance to react. And now that it’s probably too late, I can’t stop thinking about how I would do things differently if I had another chance.” He pushed his hands into his pockets and let out a slow breath. “I’ve always loved you, Ryan. You’re my beginning, middle, and end.”

  I cursed my eyes as they brimmed with tears, but I stepped back and let him in. He knelt down in front of Sid and Nancy and greeted them with kisses and scratches. I tried not to let their doggie smiles soften my heart. I walked back to the couch and closed the scrapbook. Briggs sat on the other end of the couch but stood back up and paced. I’d never seen him so nervous. I braced myself for what I knew was coming. He cheated on me, and instead of telling me, he left and made me think it was my fault. Anger and pain begged for release, and I wanted nothing more than to kick him out before he could confirm it, but I wouldn’t let him off that easy. I was going to make him tell me every gory detail, no matter how much it hurt. Maybe after that, Jack and I would have a real chance.

  “Do you remember when we met?” he asked, catching me off guard. “Do you remember what you told me?”

  Briggs and I had met at a party. We spent the whole evening together on the back porch of his fraternity house talking until dawn. I told him a lot of things that night, but I had no idea which detail he was talking about, so I shook my head.

  “You said people who lived off their great-grandparents’ success, rather than finding their own way to put their mark on the world, disgusted you.”

  I nodded. It sounded like something I’d say.

  “Until that night, I never intended to do anything different than that. But hearing you talk about it, I believed you, I agreed with you even. I got stars in my eyes, and I wanted to do the same thing as you and make my own way.” He pushed his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “But I didn’t like it. The idea was intoxicating while I was in college and law school, but the reality wasn’t what I expected. I was miserable. I didn’t want to work 18 hours a day for nothing. I had more money than I would ever make as a lawyer at my fingertips, but I couldn’t touch it. It made me resent you. I know it isn’t your fault. You never forced any of this on me. I did it to myself, but the more I hated my job, the more I blamed you for encouraging me to do it.”

  He sat down on the coffee table in front of me so our knees were almost touching. I was still waiting for the part about the affair. “The day I left the note on the door, I was finally so fed up with work I’d just quit—and I realized you’d never understand. You’d look at me and see a failure and maybe pity me for a little while,
but eventually you’d leave me, so I left you first. I couldn’t do it in person because I’d have confessed everything, and I couldn’t stand to see the disappointment on your face or hear it in your voice. I loved you so much I would rather have you hate me than be disgusted by me.”

  He took my hands. “The longer you were gone, the harder it was to keep blaming you when it was in no way your fault. That’s why I wanted you to come back to get the dogs. I wanted to talk to you in person and explain what I was too much of a coward to tell you before.”

  I stared at him, trying to absorb his story. He hadn’t cheated on me. My mind was blank and I was numb. I didn’t know what to say, think, or feel. All of this was because of something I told him when we were nineteen.

  “Say something,” he demanded and I looked into his glassy eyes.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  His mouth opened then closed again. He shook his head and his eyes threatened to spill over. “You don’t care?”

  “Briggs, I didn’t care if you were a lawyer, a bartender, or poet …If you’re happy doing it, I would’ve been happy for you.”

  “What about the trust?”

  “Are you using it to live extravagantly? Are you buying private jets and making a general spectacle of yourself, flaunting your wealth?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then how exactly is that like the people I despise?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t use your trust like that, yet you still refuse to use it for anything.”

  “That’s because I have something to prove to myself. You don’t. I’ve considered buying a newspaper here since I got back. It certainly wouldn’t be with my savings.”

  “That’s where you are wrong. I did have something to prove. I had something to prove to you.” A tear finally slipped over the edge of his brimming eyes.

  “Briggs, you never had to prove anything to me.” I wiped the tears from his cheek and the next moment I was enclosed in his too familiar arms. My own tears spilled over as I squeezed him back. His scent and the feel of his body screamed safety, security, and happiness that had been just out of my grasp, but an inner nagging voice wouldn’t let me fall back into his arms. I pulled back and stood up. It was my turn to pace. I couldn’t forgive and forget, not this time. Not something like this. “You gave up on us without so much as word to me. You just walked away and left me to pick up the pieces.”