“Agreed. So you make the coffee and the fire, I’ll cook up the steaks and play fiddle?” It means nothing. It’s just words to fill up the silence that rises between us every time I start thinking about what would have happened if she didn’t stop when we were outside.
“We’d be warm, fed, and entertained,” she points out. Her smile is wary. “We could do worse.”
I don’t know if she’s thinking about the idea of an ‘us’ as much as I am, and I don’t ask her. I do suggest we move to the couch, and, to avoid silence or—worse even—awkward talk about what we’re doing, I switch on a show. It’s about fishing.
She sits close and rests her head on my shoulder. “I love fishing,” she whispers drowsily.
“Me too.” I put an arm around her shoulders. A second later, her body goes heavy against mine, and I know she’s asleep.
I try to listen to her breathing and fall into the same pattern, but I can’t relax enough to sleep. I’m tempted to leave her sleeping on my couch, but I saw the look on her face when I suggested she stay the night. I let a couple of hours click by, then gather her in my arms and walk her out to the driveway, setting her into my car with some difficulty. She must be catching up some much needed sleep, because she is out.
I drive back to her place and she finally half wakes up when the car stops.
“Where are we?” she mumbles, her eyes half open.
“Your place. You obviously need more sleep.”
She yawns and reaches into her pocket, pulling out her keys. “Did you carry me out?” She shakes her head and chuckles. “So embarrassing. Beer makes me so damn...sleepy.” She nods off again.
I tug the key out of her hand, and she startles awake again. “No,” she says. “Not the front door. My door...around the side.”
She makes a little protest when I come around and pick her up again, but I ignore her and get her into her neat little place. I beeline it to the bedroom, flip the covers back, pull her shoes off, and tuck her in, trying not to think about how good she smells, how warm her body is, how inviting that bed looks.
“Caleb?” She tries to lift her head, but it falls back on the pillow.
“Yeah?” I wait a few seconds before I head out.
Before I make it to the door, I hear her voice again. “Thank you. So much. Thank you.”
I pause at the door frame, my hand tightening on the wood. I don’t look back at her in that bed, probably already sleeping again. “You’re welcome, Elise.”
I head home, and when I get there, I don’t drink myself into a stupor. I don’t stumble to bed and try to forget everything. I head back to the extinguished fire and breathe in the clear night air, tinged with smoke. For the first night in a long time, I don’t want to forget. And I’m looking forward to tomorrow and the chance to spend some more time with Elise Dupuis.
“Who is that in the house with Mama?” I ask my brother in a low voice.
When I woke up from my crazy dreams about fishing and making out with Caleb Warren, I was in my own room, blinking against a splitting headache, the smell of campfire clinging to my clothes. I gulped down a glass of water and some aspirin, smiling at the memory of my night listening to Caleb play the fiddle and drinking his terrible coffee. I vaguely recalled him carrying me into my bed, his strong arms tight around me—
All those tingly good thoughts got pushed away the second I thought about Gran and realized I hadn’t bothered to get an update since early yesterday. I was headed for the main house to see if Mama had any new information, but she was in the front room with company. She had a proper tea service out and everything. I met my brother in the kitchen and we both went back to my apartment, where I could grill him away from my mother’s charming company drawl.
Charlie plops down in the armchair across from me, his face set in a resigned scowl. “That is Ms. Delphine from Cypress Estates.”
“Wait.” My head is already reeling from my hangover, and I’m just hoping I misunderstood my brother. “Cypress Estates, as in the nursing home?”
Charlie nods, his jaw set in a hard line. “Yep. Trying to decide if Gran should go there from the hospital.”
“No,” I say, matter-of-factly, standing up so I can pace out my immediate frustration. “This is bullshit. A nursing home isn’t the right place for Gran. I’m not about to give up on her like that.
“No, what?” Charlie kicks his feet up onto my coffee table and stares at a spot just past my shoulder. “It’s not your choice, Lise. You don’t have to care for Gran 24/7. Mama’s tired. Besides that, it’s only a matter of time before Ma’s unable to care for her without help round the clock, and, in that case, she might as well be in a home.”
“‘Might as well be in a home’?” I repeat. “Do you even hear what you’re saying, Charlie?”
“ It’d be easier on everyone if she transitioned from the hospital to a nursing home, rather than Mama having to just pack her bags one day and ship her off.” His words are clipped and logical, like there’s no room for debate.
Like it’s unreasonable of me to not want to see our grandmother carted off to storage like a piece of furniture we don’t have any more use for.
I shake my head and stop pacing, trying to get him to understand what a mistake this is. “You don’t know the kind of places nursing homes are, Charlie. No. Not Gran. I’ve seen the patients that come into the ER from nursing homes. They aren’t well cared for. I’m not going to let Gran go to one of those places to die. There’s no way.”
I pull a brush through my hair and look for a sweater to throw over the clothes that I slept in after Caleb drove me home and carried me to my room.
It took every ounce of strength not to stay at his place last night, or to invite him to stay with me here. As perfect as last night was, it was just that—a night. A single night that helped us both feel a little less lost and a little less hurt, but just one night.
“Where are you going?” Charlie asks, watching me from his place on the couch.
“To talk Mama out of this horseshit. I’ll help out with Gran. It’s not a problem, I’m home all the time I’m not at work anyway,” I chatter, nervous that the decision has been made before I can intervene.
The cardigan is the same one I wore to Caleb’s place last night and still smells like his skin—warm and woodsy. I inhale sharply to fill my lungs with it, hoping Charlie doesn’t notice.
“Always at home my ass,” he snaps. “If that’s the case, where’s your car?”
Shit.
“I was tired last night, after shift—”
“Bullshit. We had a rape case last night, I was up at the ER meeting with the SANE nurse, and you were off last night.”
I press my lips together, embarrassed to have been caught in a lie. “I was too tired to drive home. But I was with a friend.”
“So, why lie?” Charlie asks, sitting up and dropping his feet off the table with a thud. “Is it because you were with a...male friend?”
I pull my bottom lip in and bite down. It’s a sure giveaway that he’s guessed right, but I’m not ready to admit it.
“Does it matter?” I press a hand to my head, massaging my temples.
Charlie falls back against the couch cushions and looks up at the ceiling of my apartment. “It shouldn’t.” He says the words, but the tone of his voice lets me know he doesn’t agree with the sentiment. “You’re allowed to move on. You’re allowed to be happy. I guess it’s just weird. For the longest time, I couldn’t accept your relationship with Mike. He was my friend, and you weren’t supposed to be a part of that equation.”
“Charlie, are you serious? Are you honestly going to try to tell me you’re still aggravated I broke up your bromance with Mike?” I smile at him, and he grins back, shaking his head.
“I know you feel like it was always the two of you, but you gotta remember, I’d known him for years.” He folds his arms behind his head, still staring straight up and talking in a voice that’s far away from this room right now
. “I’d seen him go through women. I’d seen him get his heart stomped on. And when you came into the picture after years of being my dorky little sister, it was just—it felt wrong.”
“Hey, just because you refused to admit I wasn’t still playing with Barbie’s and lusting after boy bands doesn’t mean everyone else did,” I say, my voice soft. “And it was okay, right? We had good times. And it was better than Mike moving on with some girl who hated your guts or something.”
Charlie runs a hand through his hair. “Mike had pretty bad taste in women. I was worried he was going to screw it up. I was worried you two would date for a while, and then there’d be some huge fallout—which was pretty much my worst case scenario. My sister and my best friend at each other’s throats?” He shakes his head, and when he looks up at me, his smile is one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen. “But he was so damn happy with you, Lissey, so damn in love with you. The whole force gave him shit about it, how hard he fell for you, but god damn if I wasn’t happy for him.” My brother links his hands behind his head and blows out a long breath. “But, yeah, you’re supposed to move on. Just don’t expect it to be easy for me, alright? Mike’s pretty much the only guy I would trust to take care of you.”
“I’m not….I’m not ready to move on, Charlie. It just, it felt good to be normal for a change. To be away from the grief, you know?” That heavy feeling Caleb lifted away crushes back on my chest again, and my voice comes out flat. “I feel like sometimes it suffocates me. I can’t escape it here, I see death and sickness at work. It was just a one-time thing, though.”
I turn my face so Charlie can’t see me bite my lip around that lie. Because I know damn well I won’t be able to say ‘no’ if Caleb asks me out again.
Charlie holds his palm up. “Can we not talk about your one night stands? Gah,” he tries to joke, but he comes off looking wrecked.
I’ll never stop being surprised by how many ways I can feel guilty.
“It’s not like that,” I rush to explain, my words so shaky, they make me sound guilty even though I’m not. “He’s a nice guy, but I don’t think I’m ready for more than last night right now. Maybe someday, though.”
“Good. It’s good to take it slow,” Charlie says, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation and desperate to move on. He raises his eyebrows at me. “Let me know when you’re ready to get more involved though, so I can have Stacy over at headquarters run a quick check on him.”
Charlie gets up and follows me as I walk to the door.
“He’s ex-military, so I’m sure he’s had every background check imaginable already,” I say, pulling the door open and stepping out into the afternoon heat.
“Oh, yeah?” Charlie’s voice switches from brotherly to official. “Who is he? Local guy?”
“Caleb Warren. You met him the other day. He was the medic that helped with Gran. He’s very nice, so I would love if you didn’t bother Stacy with unnecessary paperwork.”
Charlie stops mid-stride and growls out, “That lying sack of shit. I asked him how he knew your name and he said from the hospital.”
I sigh, used to my brother’s over-protectiveness by now. I try to let it roll off my back. “Well, to be fair, we did meet at the hospital, Charlie. And in any case, he doesn’t owe you any explanations.” It’s always good to remind Charlie of his boundaries.
My brother reaches over and clutches onto my forearm, his face tight with worry. “Listen to me, Lissey. I need you to promise me that was a one-time thing. I’ve heard shit about him. That guy is real trouble. Stay away from him, okay?” He holds my gaze, expectant.
Sometimes Charlie forgets he’s not Officer Dupuis to me, and he’s sure as hell not getting me to agree with him just because he barks an order my way.
“Charlie, you don’t even know him.” I shirk out of his grasp.
He plants himself in front of me, arms crossed, stubborn as a damn mule. “Trust me. I’ve heard talk in the department. He’s no good. He was almost thrown in jail for a string of crimes, got kicked out of town, got kicked out of the military, and from the sound of it, he’s well on his way to losing his job in EMS, too. They say he shows up for work drunk, Elise.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Charlie,” I chide, rolling my eyes. It’s my brother’s job to catch people doing things they’re not supposed to. Sometimes he can’t shut that instinct down. “He’s a good guy.”
Charlie throws his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re so damn naive. It was one night, fine. Just keep it that way. I mean it Elise. He’s not for you.”
“That’s not your decision to make,” I say, tired of Charlie feeling like he can boss me around. I didn’t have any definitive plans to see Caleb outside of the ER again, but if I did, so what? He may have made bad decisions in the past, but the Caleb I know now is a good man.
The bottom line is, Charlie always hated everyone I dated up until Mike. And after Mike, it’s going to be impossible for anyone to compare. I get that. But his opinions aren’t going to change my mind about Caleb, and he needs to butt out.
“You can’t...do this,” Charlie sputters. “You can’t go from someone honorable and brave. Someone who sacrificed his life for his job. You can’t go from someone like Mike to a scumbag like Caleb Warren. You think Mike would give you his blessing?”
I jerk back away from the words that wrap around my heart and squeeze.
“I get it,” I snap. “No one is ever going to be Mike. Not for you, and not for me either, Charlie. I’m not sure about a damn thing. Since the night he died, I’ve never been so unsure of everything. But I really think Mike would want me to be happy. I believe that in my soul.” I press my hand over my heart, hammering so hard, I can feel the vibrations on my palm.
“But not with—”
“I’d never do anything to tarnish the memory of what Mike and I had, Charlie. We were supposed to be married. We were supposed to be forever. How dare you insult me by thinking I’d do anything to cheapen that memory,” I say, and clap my mouth shut before my voice cracks and the tears start.
I push past my brother and stalk across the courtyard, all the peace I built up last night torn to shreds.
“Lise!” he calls after me. I don’t turn around, and I know he won’t follow me into the main house and risk causing a scene in front of company.
My argument with Charlie caused me to miss talking with Ms. Delphine before she left Mama with a pile of glossy brochures full of smiling, gray haired folks lounging outside of the nursing home in the gorgeous, manicured gardens.
“What they don’t show is the bedsores, Mama.” I say, tossing the pages onto the dining room table.
Mama is serenely dunking the teacups in the sudsy water. “Elise,” she says, her voice tired. “I told you we didn’t make a decision yet. I’m merely looking at all our options. When your aunts and uncles get here, we’ll go investigate the place for ourselves. I appreciate your concern, but this is not a decision we’re making lightly. Please have some respect for that.”
She looks up and frowns at me like she’s disappointed in me. I hear what she’s saying, but I can’t help but feel like it’s already been decided.
An overwhelming sense of defeat and sadness for Gran squeezes at my chest as I walk out to the driveway to get in my car, deciding a drive will calm me down. I realize I didn’t drive my car home last night just as Caleb pulls in.
He steps out and casually tosses me the keys.
“Perfect timing,” I say, loving the way he looks at me like he’s very satisfied with what he sees.
“You on your way out?” He leans against the hood and crosses his arms. The same big arms that carried me into my bed the night before.
“I was. I was going to take a drive, but then remembered I didn’t have my car.” I walk over to him, close enough to catch a faint whiff of campfire and his crisp cologne. “Thanks for bringing it back.”
“No problem.” He runs his hand through his hair
and pauses like he’s contemplating saying something more. “I would have had it to you sooner, but I had to run by Dean’s house this morning. Took up more time than I expected.”
I lean next to him. “How is he? Is he going back to work?”
Caleb nods. “I think he’s going to be alright. Little shithead.” His lips curl into a smile he’s trying so damn hard to hold back. “I told him house calls aren’t my bag. Next time he freaks out, he’s on his own. But I figured—being that he’s new—I’d give him one more shot.”
He’s trying to be tough. He’s trying to veil the truth—that he’s a nice guy in his heart and a sucker for helping people like Dean, who don’t know just how shitty this world can be.
Some people react to a loss by trying to prove to everyone else just how badly life can suck. Caleb isn’t like that.
He shifts his weight and shoves his hands in his pockets, looking so different from the cocky guy who strolled out of the ER the night I met him.
“You up for some company on that drive?” he asks, nudging my hip with his.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Caleb asks, settling further into the leather passenger seat. He glances at my hands, positioned at ten and two like I’m in Driver’s ED all over again. “You seem...tense.”
“I’m fine.” I reposition my hands on the steering wheel, hoping to appear more relaxed. I loosen my hold too, guessing it was my white knuckles that gave me away.
“I didn’t go to college like you, but I do know it’s a universal rule that if I woman says she’s ‘fine,’ she’s definitely not.” He waits, expectantly.
“You would have made a fantastic women’s studies major,” I deadpan.
“C’mon, Elise,” he says, dropping the joke. “What’s up?”
I give a quick shrug of my shoulders that causes the strap of my shirt to slink down, revealing a sliver of skin. Caleb is watching. I can feel the heat of his eyes on my skin without having to look.
“You know how…” I shake my head. “Never mind, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”
Golden Hour (Crescent City) Page 10
