by Teri Blake
Quin nodded and headed after Paxton before tears could stop her. Paxton took the plate from her almost the moment she entered the room. “You okay? I know that spending a day with someone when you feel that clock ticking can be really emotional. You want to make use of every minute and feel guilty if you feel like you’re wasting it. Just know that you aren’t wasting any of it.”
She took a deep breath. “There’s just so much I never knew.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry to say…you haven’t even scratched the surface yet.”
Chapter Seven
Jane arrived and whisked Ryla away shortly after supper claiming she looked too tired to stay awake a moment longer. While Quin wanted to argue, Ryla had almost fallen asleep twice in her chair as they’d been talking in the comfortable living room.
Paxton came in after helping Jane get Ryla settled and took her spot on the sofa. “Normally, I don’t cook supper or do dishes. I leave that up to Jane, but they’re done. Anything else you need?”
She wasn’t expecting the hopefulness in his voice, nor did she expect the onslaught on her brain that one question would cause. She had a lot of needs, one of them was to just break down and cry. That one had to be dealt with alone.
“I feel kind of alone. It’s strange. I know you’ve got her, health-wise. I know there’s nothing I can do to make that any different. But I feel…like my words and thoughts aren’t reaching her. Like part of her is already gone and it doesn’t matter if I try to do better because she won’t hear me anyway.”
He nodded and took her hands. The warmth surprised her. “Part of her already is because she’s accepted that she doesn’t have long. She’s not fighting, just enjoying what she’s got. I’m glad you were able to come and feel that.”
But what about Mom and Dad? They would miss this. They wouldn’t get this chance to clear the air, to listen to Ryla’s side of the story of her life. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell our parents,” the words seemed to rush out without her control.
“I know. She said she would tell you or them, either or, not both. She chose you.”
Quin shook her head slowly, both to clear her mind and disagree. “It’s not right. They should know. I shouldn’t have promised. What if I break that promise?”
He chuckled. “Then you would prove to her you are exactly who she thinks you’ve become. Your decision needs to be…is that a good thing or bad?”
With the way Ryla had been talking, it was probably bad. But if so, why did she choose Quin and not them? Why had she allowed this precious time with only Quin? “I don’t understand. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been faced with anything like this.” She jumped to her feet to pace and—as if he’d seen the scene a million times—Paxton caught her hand and pulled her back down next to him on the sofa.
“Pacing won’t help. It’ll only wake up Ryla and I think you need a minute to process when she’s not right in front of you. That’s not selfish. I get to go home and be…outside this house for a while.”
She sighed and let her head drop forward. “I feel guilty for wanting that. I just got here. I shouldn’t need that at all.”
“Shouldn’t?” He snorted softly. “You went from a life—according to Ryla—of being virtually alone most of the time to a life of high emotional demand in the span of a day. Give yourself some credit.”
“But she can’t escape it.” Her voice cracked and she hated that her throat burned with tears she wouldn’t shed. She swallowed hard.
“No, but you don’t have to be a martyr. You just have to be there for her. Why don’t you come over to my place for an hour and just watch television for a while? Or, we can sit and talk here if you’re more comfortable. Whatever.”
“I was out all day on the beach…” Why was she trying to talk herself out of what she needed? More guilt pressed on her shoulders.
“A day you spent listening to, and worrying about, your sister’s every word.” He stood and eased her to her feet.
How had she not realized he’d been holding her hand the whole time? Was she so drained she’d missed it? He drew her into a brief hug and her emotional wall cracked as the first squeak of tears forced their way to the surface. He seemed ready for the sound and chuckled, letting the weight of his arms hold her steady.
After a minute of letting her catch her breath, he rubbed her back for a moment. When she finally untangled herself from his arms, he led her to the door. Duggy sat in his way, ears dragging on the floor. “Are you trying to keep me here, big guy?”
The rabbit tilted his head with the strangest side-eye she’d ever seen. “I think he wants us to stay…” She’d never had a pet and didn’t know the first thing about Duggy other than that he liked to escape, but he seemed less insistent on leaving and more on being in the way.
“So be it, rabbit. But you’d better be nice. Quin’s had enough today. She doesn’t need your attitude,” he play-scolded the little ball of fluff.
Duggy hopped twice away from the door and thumped loudly, then hopped for the living room. Paxton squeezed her hand. “I’m going to run home and get some coffee. I like mine better than what Ryla keeps here. Want a cup?”
She shook her head. Caffeine so late in the evening would have her up all night and she had enough to think about she wouldn’t need the chemical help.
“I’ll meet you in the living room. Won’t be long.” He headed out the door.
The house felt silent for a few moments, then sounds slowly made themselves known. The grumble of the oxygen machine in Ryla’s room. The tick of the clock on the wall. The hum of the lights in the hall. She strode toward the living room and wiped her eyes.
Duggy sat completely still in the middle of the floor. She’d expected him to turn and face her as soon as she came in, but he didn’t. For a bunny, he could be eerily still. “Are you okay?” She felt stupid for talking to the thing, but Paxton had.
She lowered onto her knees and slowly reached for Duggy. In a heartbeat, he flipped to face her and she held in a squeal of shock. “How did you do that? Were you trying to bite me?” She held her hand away from him like he was a lion, not a lop-eared rabbit.
He lowered his head and relaxed his ears, making him appear almost…welcoming. She tried again to touch his head. This time, he let her rub right between his ears. She’d expected him to feel like a cat, but he didn’t. He was even softer, more like a kitten, only thicker.
He leaned into her finger and she scratched a little more. “You like that, eh?” She wanted to tell him to be careful. He shouldn’t get too attached to her. She would have to go back to her urban apartment where rabbits were definitely not allowed.
But she couldn’t say the words aloud. What if Ryla was awake and heard her? Thinking it, taking care of everything after Ryla was gone, was different than forcing her to know beforehand.
Paxton came back in and softly closed the door. A minute later he’d lowered himself next to her on the floor. “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but it’ll work. This time. I do think you should come over to my house some evening and just forget for one hour.”
She wouldn’t fight him on that. He’d dealt with end-of-life situations much more than she had. “Thank you. It means a lot that you care.”
He draped a light blanket around her shoulders and gently held it together until she could take the folds. “I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than a day. Ryla has talked about you so much. It’s nice to finally realize you’re human. I was pretty sure you lived with the stars, the way she talked about you.”
Quin ducked her head. If she’d talked to Ryla more often, maybe she’d know more about Paxton too. Maybe she’d have great stories to tell. Maybe she wouldn’t feel anything for this guy who was so close to her sister if she’d first known of him through her sister.
“Every other time in my life when I’ve wanted to escape reality, I’ve done it by grabbing an easel and letting go. I can’t do that here. Not now. Even when I try to let my mind go,
I can’t. It’s clinging to her.”
Duggy hopped closer and leaned up against her thigh. Not enough that he asked to be touched, but she felt a sort of connection, as if he’d chosen her between the two options in the room. Considering he knew Paxton better, that made her inexplicably happy.
Paxton nodded at Duggy. “He is, inherently, a prey animal. So he feels safe with you right now. That’s great. He doesn’t usually warm up to people so fast. It took him a couple months of back and forth before he was good with me whenever I came over.”
She didn’t mind if he liked her, but there would be no choosing, no trusting. She couldn’t take him with her. No matter how much Ryla wanted it. “Yeah, that’s great that he likes me today. I don’t see that I’ll be here long enough for him to like me permanently, though.” She couldn’t let her words say what her mind wanted to yell. She wanted out. But that wasn’t a choice.
“You’re doing fine. Ryla made it sound like you might be above caring, but I don’t see that, and I read people pretty well.”
Not care about her only sister? Ryla had indicated she was a little selfish, but mostly with her time. She would never be so cold as to not care that her sister was dying. “I can’t imagine why anyone would believe that. It’s not like I’m soulless. It’s not like I can’t think of anyone but myself.”
Paxton didn’t let a hint of what he might actually think pass his features. He was a better nurse than most she’d met at keeping his thoughts to himself when he wanted to. “I didn’t say anything meant to hurt your feelings.”
She sniffled, hating that her momentary bout of tears left her head full and her nose stuffy. “I’d better get to bed. Thanks for taking care of me when you probably needed some time to yourself.”
He stood and held out a hand for her, then helped her up. “I don’t mind. This wasn’t exactly stressful for me.” He gathered his cup off the floor but left his blanket around her shoulders as he headed home.
Something felt missing, out of place. Like she needed to do something but hadn’t and now it was too late. She searched around the room but could come up with no reason for the feeling.
Her phone laid on the side table where she’d left it that morning, untouched. When she pressed the home button, there were five texts waiting for her. Four were from Ben with false exclamations of love and images from the show. The last was from her parents.
Mom: We made it to Cincinnati. Where are you? Thought we could meet you here and have lunch. The show was amazing. So many people asking for our talented girl.
If she’d told them she’d decided on a last-minute week with Ryla instead of going to the show, they would’ve known something was wrong. Obviously, they’d avoided Ben; he would have told them where she was. Cincinnati was her dream. She took a deep breath and thought about what Paxton had said. Maybe Ryla was secretly hoping Quin would be her old, selfish self and tell their parents for her?
She cradled the phone to her chest. But Ryla had also begged Quin not to say a word.
Not a word.
She pressed the call button and Mom picked up on the first ring.
“Quin! Where are you? Do you have a hotel in the city? It’s late, but we could come and join you for a cocktail.”
Quin flinched. She didn’t drink. Even Ben knew that. “I’m not actually there. I’m with Ryla. Mom…there’s something you should know.”
Chapter Eight
That buzzing was unnatural… Quin blinked at the clock and couldn’t see the time no matter how hard she tried. She fumbled for the silence button on her phone, but it wasn’t any alarm. She rolled over as someone pounded loudly on her door.
“Quin? Quin, you need to get up.” Paxton’s voice came through the closed door.
Had she slept in? She glanced at the window and groaned at the blackness outside. “Let me be.” He wasn’t even supposed to be there until eight and he never came upstairs. The door swung open and only once he reached her bed did she think to make any noise. “What are you doing in here?”
He caught her gaze and gripped her shoulders lightly. “You need to be downstairs.”
The truth hit her, and she froze. Not now. Not when her parents were on their way, driving from Cincinnati because they hated to fly. “No…” She tossed the blankets back and made it across the small room at a run. People were moving about downstairs with a purpose, more people than she’d ever seen at Rosewood House. “What are they all…?”
Paxton touched her gently. “They’re my team. It’s how we work. We all try to be here and help each other out without making too much noise for the patient.”
“Ryla.” She dashed down the stairs, through the hall, and to the room she’d avoided the day before. The doorway didn’t stop her this time. In a moment she was next to the bed.
In the span of a few hours, Ryla had gone from sleepy, but lucid, and in a wonderful mood, to searching the room with vacant eyes and mumbling. Her chest seemed to cave with every breath.
Quin held her tears in check and reached for Ryla’s hand. “I’m here. What can I do?”
“Take care of Duggy,” she rasped and the nasal cannula slipped slightly from her nose. How had her face shrunk in the span of a few hours?
“I…” want to, but I can’t… “will.” Now was not the time for absolute truths. “What should I tell Mom and Dad?”
Ryla closed her almost translucent eyelids, and a hard breath racked her body. “Tell them you’ll take care of Rosewood.” She tried to smile but her lips stuck to her teeth.
“Get her some water,” Quin called over her shoulder.
Ryla shook her head and held tight to Quin’s hand. She closed her eyes, but the hard breathing continued, and Paxton brought in a chair for her to sit on.
“You should call your parents,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze.
“I already did,” she whispered. Guilt gnawed at her. Not only had she done exactly what Ryla had asked her not to do, but they would be too late anyway. She’d almost been too late. Two days before she’d been complaining that her sister wouldn’t drive to get her at the airport.
“When will they be here?”
She hung her head and allowed the tears to come since Ryla couldn’t see her anyway. “Not in time, or at least it seems that way.” She allowed herself to look at him, but like a true professional, his features gave away nothing.
“I’m just glad you made it. I’ve seen too many people where she is with no one to sit by their bed. No one to feel anything.” He massaged her shoulders gently. “I’ll make some coffee. Do you want any?”
This time, she couldn’t refuse. Though needing coffee seemed so…normal at such an abnormal time, she still needed it. “Please.”
He circled his thumbs gently along her shoulder blade, then left the room. Jane still sat in the corner but had been so quiet Quin hadn’t even noticed she was there. She nodded and went back to reading her book. Though she didn’t seem disinterested, she was certainly not as involved as Paxton. Though, she’d always been there at night. She couldn’t know Ryla as well.
Paxton returned and set the cup of coffee on the bedside table then knelt beside her. “Is there anything you know of that your sister would want to have done? Last rights? Anything?”
They weren’t Catholic, or they hadn’t been raised that way. How sad that she couldn’t answer that question with any degree of certainty. “I…” She blinked and tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. She couldn’t go back in time and ask all the important questions.
“I’ll have the local pastor come over and wait for the next time she’s awake. It’s a comfort to a lot of patients, even if they don’t believe.”
She didn’t know if Ryla believed or not. She didn’t know much of anything important about her. Who would remember her when she was gone? Did she impact anyone? Did she mean anything to anyone? “Were you and Ryla ever… I mean, I know you said you weren’t, but I thought maybe it was because you thou
ght I might not like it, with patient confidentiality and everything…” She was rambling, but she couldn’t help it. Ryla had to matter to someone, even if it was this someone.
He shook his head with a slight smile. “No, never. She and I weren’t close until I got the assignment to watch her. I’d met her, we were neighborly, but I didn’t get to know her until a few months ago. She talked more about you and her family than herself.”
Quin swallowed hard and bit her lip. That meant it was up to her. She had to be the one who remembered Ryla. She had to be the one to take whatever her sister left behind in this house and make sure others knew her sister too.
Jane stood and clipped an oximeter on Ryla’s finger, waited a moment, then adjusted her oxygen level. The loud hum of the machine seemed to get louder and Ryla’s breathing became more forced, harsher, like the machine was doing it for her. Jane reached in a drawer by the bed and put a clear plastic mask over Ryla’s nose and mouth.
“What’s she doing?” Quin didn’t feel comfortable questioning the woman directly.
“She’s making sure Ryla gets as much of that oxygen as possible.”
With her thin face and the mask covering the bottom half, even transparent, she didn’t look like Ryla anymore. Her eyes were sunken and dark underneath. Only her lashes seemed full where they swept across the dim smudge under her eyes.
Quin checked the clock and it read a little after six. Her parents weren’t even awake yet in Cincinnati. “Please hurry. Please don’t make me do this alone.” She bowed her head.
All her life people had said she was strong, special, talented. None of that mattered. She couldn’t use an ounce of it. Her talent had only taken her far from her family and had stolen all her time. She’d thought it was so important.
Ryla’s eyes opened and she looked frightened momentarily at the device on her face. Quin held her hand tightly. “It’s to help you.”
