Shannon’s face twisted into a pained grin. “This is terrible.”
“Necessary,” she corrected. “But terrible, yes. Anyway, you hungry? I can make sure they give you the good hospital food, the kind even I’ll eat.”
“How about some alcohol?” Shannon turned to Aiden. “Go get me an entire bottle of Jack Daniels. Put it in a coffee thermos, or one of Daisy’s on-the-go tea cup things—”
“Don’t you dare, Aiden Maar,” Chelsea snapped.
Aiden hadn’t said a word and he looked as if he wasn’t about to.
“I’ll get some food sent, all right? Rest up, Shannon.” Chelsea batted at the air when he opened his mouth, signaling that she wasn’t going to listen. “The next two days are gonna be a headache.”
As she was exiting the room she heard Shannon snap at her, “I just got shot, Chels. I don’t need a headache too!”
Daisy Yuen 11/4 2:05 p.m.
Your mom won’t even look at me.
Chelsea Cavanaugh 11/4 2:06 p.m.
Don’t worry about her. Are you close?
Daisy Yuen 11/4 2:06 p.m.
Just parked. Heading in now. Meet us in the lobby?
Chelsea Cavanaugh 11/4 2:07 p.m.
On my way.
Daisy slung the strap of the duffel bag full of Aiden’s clothes and toiletries over her shoulder and shut the trunk of her car. Loraine wrung her hands as she chatted with Lloyd; they shared a state of subdued, complicated panic. The woman beside them glanced at her phone, scrolling with precise flicks of her finger.
Chelsea’s mother—Anastasia, because of course her name was Anastasia—looked like a wiser, sharper, more expensive version of her daughter. Her golden hair was cut just below her shoulders, with side swept bangs that accented her perfectly tattooed eyebrows.
Unlike Loraine, who was wearing a simple floral dress over paisley leggings, Anastasia was swathed in a pearl white pantsuit with a golden brooch pinned delicately on the collar.
“Chelsea’s meeting us in the lobby,” Daisy said. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head.
“Is Shannon awake?” Lloyd asked, tapping his cane.
“Yeah, I believe so. Aiden’s with him. I think they just ate, so he might be heading down to get coffee.” Daisy didn’t want to say she hoped that Aiden was downstairs getting coffee, but she did. One, because he hadn’t left Shannon’s room in two days, and two, because she didn’t want to be alone with Chelsea’s mother. “Chelsea will take us to him as soon as we get inside.”
They walked through the parking lot. Loraine held Lloyd’s hand and kept close to Daisy. Anastasia trailed behind; her sparkling white pumps smacked the concrete. The sliding glass doors opened. Daisy exhaled a long, relieved breath to see Chelsea standing in the middle of the lobby. Her white coat had been replaced by a beige turtleneck sweater and jeans.
“Chelsea,” Loraine blurted. She wrapped her arms around Chelsea’s middle. Her breath came in uneven huffs and puffs. “Is he all right?”
“He’s just fine,” Chelsea mused, the vowel ‘i’ in ‘fine’ was open and sharp. “He’s in room 23B in ICU. The elevator is right there,” she pointed to a hallway to her left. “Just tell the nurse Dr. Cavanaugh sent you, all right?”
“You’re not comin’?” Loraine asked softly, playing with tendrils of long chestnut hair.
“I’m in desperate need of an espresso.” Chelsea’s gaze flittered to Anastasia. “And I wouldn’t want to keep you. It isn’t hard to find, I promise.”
Aiden was nowhere in sight. Daisy pulled out her phone and sent a quick text.
Parents are on their way up.
A few seconds later Aiden replied with: okay, you too?
Loraine and Lloyd headed toward the elevators.
She didn’t get a chance to respond, because Chelsea’s hand was on her shoulder and her knuckles brushed across her neck. “You’ve met my Rose Road, then?”
Daisy’s spine straightened. Every muscle tightened almost to the point of pain. She stared at the blinking line on her phone where she intended to write something back to Aiden. Now she was stuck with the weight of Anastasia’s glare hot on her face.
“I have,” Anastasia said. Her voice was deeper than Chelsea’s, fuller, like comparing the stout richness of acrylic paint to watercolors. “You should’ve called, Chelsea.”
“I’m not coming home anytime soon,” Chelsea snapped.
Anastasia sighed.
Daisy still hadn’t looked up from her phone.
“Your father’s worried. He thinks you should take some time to think about all this.” Her mother said all this and she meant Daisy.
“There’s nothing to think about.” Chelsea gripped Daisy’s shoulder. “What kind of tea is it that you like again, baby?” Chelsea said baby, and Daisy almost flinched. “Is it the shade-grown green or the one with rice in it?” Her attention was pointed at Daisy, and she pulled her toward the coffee stand at the far end of the lobby. “Mama, you go ahead and go see Shannon if you’d like,” she said over her shoulder.
Daisy put one foot in front of the other. Anastasia hadn’t said much to her, just a polite hello at the airport and a thank you when she opened the car door for her. Obviously, Anastasia thought Daisy was a weird girl who didn’t deserve Chelsea’s affection, and Daisy thought Anastasia was a woman who watched her husband beat his daughter and looked the other way.
Chelsea nudged her along until they were walking. “Has she said anything to you?”
“No,” Daisy mumbled. “Did you call me baby to piss her off?”
Chelsea considered before she shrugged and said, “Yes.”
Daisy wanted to run right out the front doors and not come back.
Aiden Maar 11/4 2:21 p.m.
Loraine says Chelsea’s mom is a raging bitch
Daisy smirked. Something inside her writhed around, clawing at her throat. It wanted her to look at Chelsea and say I’m not a weapon for you to use, but she swallowed it down.
Daisy Yuen 11/4 2:22 p.m.
Loraine is not wrong
28
They took their warm drinks, triple espresso with a hint of vanilla for Chelsea and a matcha latte for Daisy, from the café to Shannon’s room.
“You’re off the clock?” Daisy asked.
Chelsea nodded. “Yes, finally. I have the next two days off. Almost wish I didn’t with my mother bein’ here.”
“She seems nice.”
Chelsea narrowed her eyes and snorted, glaring at Daisy. “You don’t have to lie. The truth won’t hurt my feelings. I know my mother can be awful.”
“Awful,” Daisy seethed, closing her eyes as she said it. “She’s terrible, Chelsea. Is she always like this? She won’t look at me. She barely spoke to Loraine and Lloyd. I think the only thing she said to me was sorry to hear about Shannon; he’s your friend too now that you’ve spent time with my daughter, I assume? And I swear to you, I swear, Chelsea, I almost slapped her right then and there.” Daisy said assume in an array of upended octaves, swinging her latte this way and that in the elevator. “And by the way, I’m just gonna say it before I explode—don’t ever use me like that again. Ever. I mean, really? Baby?” She made a psshhh noise and turned her frustrated glare to Chelsea.
Chelsea arched a brow. “You’re mad because I called you baby?”
“I am. I’m mad you called me baby to make your mother upset. I’m mad that Aiden hasn’t slept. I’m mad that we’re still at this fucking hospital. I’m mad your mother looks at me like I’m a raccoon digging through her trash. I’m…” Daisy stopped to catch her breath. “I’m mad that our best friend almost…”
She pushed the button on the elevator that kept the doors shut. “Well, get it out, honey,” Chelsea said, poking Daisy’s stomach. “No need to let it fester in there.”
Daisy’s small fr
ame decompressed. Her shoulders slouched, and she chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not mad. I’m tired,” she whispered, honesty slithering out in a defeated huff. Her forehead rested against Chelsea’s shoulder. “But don’t use me to get under Anastasia’s skin; it bugs me.”
“I won’t do it again,” Chelsea assured softly. “Aiden will be all right; he just needs time. This is a lot for him, for all of us.”
“Yeah, it is. I feel like I haven’t had time to…” Daisy opened and closed her hands. “Do anything, figure this out. What happens now?”
“Shannon gets better; we have Thanksgiving dinner with your family; Aiden shows off his photography at Art Walk.” Chelsea pushed the button again and the elevator doors slid open. “Christmas is next, then New Year’s, then—”
“I mean, what happens with us and Shannon and your mom being here, Chelsea.” Frustrated, Daisy shook her head. “Everything’s happening really fast. And… wait,” she cocked her head and blinked, lips pursed. “We’re doing Thanksgiving with my parents?”
“Well, we’re not doin’ it with mine, so yes, I’d assumed so. Were you thinking of doing something else?”
“No, no, my parents will love that, we’ll—yeah, that’s perfectly okay—that’s great, just…”
“Just what?”
“Anastasia is still your mom,” Daisy said, her tone hushed and soaked in pity.
“And I still love her,” Chelsea snapped. “But that changes nothing.”
Anastasia stood in the corner of Shannon’s room looking at her phone. Chelsea rolled her eyes. Everyone else was huddled next to Shannon’s bed. Lloyd sat in a chair with his cane propped against his knee. Loraine sat on the edge of Shannon’s bed with both hands clasped around Shannon’s fingertips. Aiden was on the cot, sitting cross-legged and fidgeting.
Daisy sat on the cot next to Aiden. Chelsea didn’t bother giving Anastasia the attention she so desperately wanted, and instead placed her hands on Loraine’s shoulders.
“I get to be your friend now,” Chelsea said, trying to smile. “As much as I’ve enjoyed being your doctor, I’m relieved to not be holdin’ your chart today.”
“The nurse mentioned a scare, Chelsea, what happened?” Loraine blurted. She grasped Chelsea’s hand and peered up at her. “Daisy didn’t tell us anything about a scare.”
Chelsea glanced at Shannon. He gave a subtle shake of his head, eyes wide and unblinking.
“Oh, just the fragmented bullet, Loraine. It made it more difficult to remove, but we managed. Shannon will be fine in a couple weeks.”
“Good thing all that schooling didn’t go to waste,” Anastasia said, still looking at her phone. “Top of her class in college, highest GPA in her sorority, that Cavanaugh blood never fails, isn’t that right, Chelsea?”
The room went silent. Aiden’s back straightened. Shannon patted the spot in front of Aiden, trying to reel in his attention.
“Or maybe,” Daisy snapped, “it has nothing to do with her blood. Chelsea’s a brilliant doctor because she worked her ass off to become one.”
Not only was the room silent, but the silence crystallized over their heads like icicles, ready to break and skewer them. Chelsea swallowed, wet her lips, and inhaled a deep, deep breath. Loraine tightened her grip, giving Chelsea’s hand a good squeeze.
“It’s Daisy, isn’t it?” Anastasia’s eyes turned to Daisy.
“You know her name, Mama,” Chelsea hissed. “Don’t play stupid.”
“Chelsea hasn’t told me where you got your degree,” Anastasia said. “I’m guessing you have an Ivy League education to back up that attitude, yes?”
This time it was Aiden, who smirked and turned to glare at Anastasia over his shoulder. “You know, I’ve met some assholes in my life, but—wow!” He shifted his gaze to Chelsea. “No wonder you were such a bitch, Charm School.” He flicked his wrist, gesturing at her mother. “This is what raised you?”
“Aiden,” Shannon mumbled.
Daisy slid off the cot, crossed her arms over her chest, and left the room.
Chelsea’s hands trembled. Her jaw was clenched tight enough that it caused her head to ache and her teeth to chatter. “I’m sorry, Shannon,” she gritted out, “this isn’t appropriate.” Her stomach wound itself into knots, pulling everything inside her to the very center, where it constricted and tightened. Her chest lurched. Her throat was raw. Anger rushed through an accelerated heart rate into a fiery, embarrassed blush and uncomfortably wet eyelashes. “Come with me,” she said to Anastasia.
Aiden looked ready for a fight. He watched Chelsea carefully, lips parted, waiting for her to say one thing. Get her out of here and Aiden would’ve gladly chased Anastasia out of the room, the hospital, the state.
“Chelsea, honey,” Loraine whispered, giving her hand another squeeze. “It’s all right; there’s no need to leave.”
“There’s plenty need,” Chelsea rasped, clearing the lump from her throat. “I apologize. I’ll see you guys in a bit, all right. We’ll do dinner?”
“Chelsea.” The room went quiet again at the sound of Aiden’s voice. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Anastasia laughed under her breath. “Are you her guard dog, sweetheart?”
“No,” he sneered at Anastasia, “but you might need one.”
“No, thank you. Stay with everybody,” Chelsea said. She snatched Anastasia’s hand and dug her nails in hard, splitting the skin hard, shut your mouth hard, this isn’t the place hard, I didn’t leave Georgia for this hard, and stomped out, pulling her mother with her.
Anastasia blubbered, “Chelsea, don’t. You’re hurting me; let go. I said stop—”
Once they were out of the room Chelsea did stop and whipped around to snarl at her mother. “How dare you?” she growled, hating that there were tears on her cheeks, hating that her hands were shaking, hating that she sounded drowned and soggy. “How dare you?” she said again, spitting the words at Anastasia’s feet. “Is this what you came here to do? Because those are my friends in there. And what you did to Daisy, to the woman I love? How can you justify that?”
Anastasia heaved a sigh. “You don’t know if you love her yet, Chelsea. You don’t need to say that to impress anyone; it’s all right.”
It was sad how motherly Anastasia sounded. How when she put you and don’t and need together with impress it almost came across as tenderhearted. It was equally sad that the first time she’d uttered the words the woman I love it had to be here, to this person, in this situation.
Chelsea choked on a wounded noise, a sob and an inhale intertwined. “Why did you come? Why are you here, Mama? Is it to hurt me, is that why you came? To dig at me, to make me feel like shit for leavin’, to tell me my Rose Road is fake, to make this situation harder than it already is? Because Shannon almost died, remember that?” She tried to steady her breathing, but it came out in short puffs. “My best friend got shot, his boyfriend has barely touched an ounce of food, Daisy’s a mess, and I don’t have it in me to let you to do this now—not this time, not anymore.”
“You’ve always been dramatic, Chelsea.” Anastasia tucked a piece of hair behind Chelsea’s ear. “We were surprised you took the job here, with Philip’s recommendation, obviously.” Chelsea was thankful she’d said Philip and not your father. “I came here to see my daughter, to talk to her as mothers do, to make sure you’re staying on track, to check on you—”
“To make sure I don’t make a fool of you, right?” Chelsea scoffed and shook her head, dodging Anastasia’s hand when she tried to fix another strand of out-of-place hair. “To keep me in line?”
“This girl isn’t for you, you know that. Neither is that…” Her mother’s face scrunched unpleasantly. “Young man of Shannon’s. You don’t run with people like them; you never have.”
“I was never allowed!” Chelsea heard her voice rise and swallowed the urge
to yell. “You kept me primped and polished like a goddamn poodle, Mama. I did what you wanted. I got the good grades, I made cheerleading squad, I pledged at your sorority. I never told,” the last word slipped by, and she felt it in her bones. Now that she’d said it, she couldn’t stop. “I never told anyone, because you asked me not to. You begged me, you promised me, you made me believe if I told Lloyd what was happenin’ it would destroy our family. You made me think it’d be my fault. It wasn’t fair, Mama, it wasn’t, and now you’re tryin’ to ruin the only good thing I’ve got left.”
“I knew you would graduate and get out. I knew that it was only for a short time, and then it would be over. It was a sacrifice we both had to make.” Anastasia’s mouth flattened. Her cheeks heated and brow tensed. “But you don’t have to sacrifice the rest of your life for this girl, or for them. Shannon might think it’s all right to keep the type of company he does, but we’re different.”
“You’re different,” Chelsea hissed, standing on the tips of her toes. “Aiden is wonderful, by the way. It’s too bad I didn’t give him a chance sooner, but you know why I didn’t? Because you raised me. Because you made me believe people like him weren’t worth a damn. And Daisy? She’s ten times the woman I am. She’s courageous and strong and loving and she likes me, Mama. She likes me despite what I became trying to fit in your shadow. Those people in there actually like me.”
Anastasia opened her mouth, but a smooth voice interrupted the two of them.
“Love you,” Aiden corrected. He stood in the doorway, a lingering shadow that wouldn’t have been detected if he hadn’t meant to be.
Heels clicked behind them followed by the swish of a coat against ankles and a breathy sigh. “Hey, I’m back,” Karman stopped next to Chelsea. She glanced from Aiden to Anastasia, Anastasia to Chelsea. Her bountiful dark curls hung around her face prettily, but her curious expression twisted into a defensive sneer when she saw Chelsea pawing at her cheeks with the back of her hands. “What’s going on? Who is this?”
Chelsea shook her head. “Nothing, Karman. Shannon’s awake, and his parents are here. Go on in—”
Curved Horizon Page 24
