by Cecelia Earl
When Cole and my brother finally come in for a bite to eat, I'm relieved to have the distraction. They sit at the other end of the counter, far from Mr. Star.
"What can I get you two football stars?" I ask, leaning my palms on the counter.
"I'll take a root beer float," Noah says, grinning.
"Before your dinner?"
Cole winks. "Add a burger and fries to that. On me."
I want to be annoyed that he's got so much money to throw around, but there's that easy smile of his, that friendly, loving, childish ease that makes him always seem happy-go-lucky. His shoulders are set, his left one slightly back so that I expect his fists to be clenched at the ends of his arms. But they're not. They're holding the football he was tossing with Noah. He sets it on the counter before me, his hands so manly already. His preppy-looking shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and then there's me, always in one work T-shirt or another, smelling of grease. He's always dressed for pleasure, and I'm always dressed for work. And that's why homecoming week will be the beginning and end for us. Parts of two completely different worlds. One with easy money, and one without.
"Coming right up," I mutter, sticking his order on Mom's to-cook board.
"What can I get you, Cole?"
"I'd actually just like a moment with the chef's daughter. Can you take a quick break outside with me?"
Trevor is refilling water glasses and passing out menus for a couple that just walked in. Everyone else has been served.
"Um, sure." Being a smidgen irresponsible just this once won't hurt anyone. "But only for a minute."
He takes my hand and leads me out front and around the side of the building. He walks me across the street to a bench outside the florist shop. The sun is about to set, so the sky is getting ready to show off. It's a lovely time of day. And I'm with a lovely boy.
Once we're seated, he doesn't let my hand go. I look at him and wait, noticing how, if I stare into his eyes, it's not just the blueness of them that makes me lose myself, but the depth of the center of his eyes. It's like his pupils are a black hole and they're sucking me in, spinning me around and around.
"Julia?"
I close my eyes and breathe in, dizzy. "Yeah?" I reply, before opening my eyes to look at our entwined fingers, certain my infatuation is written out in black cursive letters across the bridge of my nose.
"Will you come to the dance with me, not just as the queen, but as my date?"
I spread my lips across my face. "I'd love to." Realizing how droopy and fawny I sound, I shake my head and try again. "Yeah, sure." I throw in a shrug for good measure. Everything is on the right track for once, volunteer hours, extra courses, and now even Cole.
He laughs. “You’re adorable.”
Crap. I'm lost in his eyes again, but it's okay, because he's moving closer to me and the heat of his lips are heating me up, and then they brush against mine, press against mine. And we. Are. Kissing. His lips are even softer than I imagined, and the feelings they stir inside of me are even stronger than I thought possible.
Ohmygosh.
Deep in my belly, a fire spreads, a yearning to get closer to him. Our arms slide to wrap around each other as our kiss deepens. We're lost in a tangle of lips and tongues, want and need. But in that instant, we are torn apart by a blast so catastrophic the window behind us shatters.
I scream.
We jump up, arms wrapped in fear around each other, as we stare in horror at my mom's diner.
It's erupted into a ball of flames, the contents now strewn across half a mile of streets. It's a miracle we're unharmed.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, yeah. You?"
I don't even wait for him to respond before I freak out.
"No!" I scream, and break free from his hold. "No! No! No!" I tear across the street and start yelling for my mom and brother.
I left for thirty seconds, and look what happened.
I'm frantic to hear them, anyone, answer my calls.
This. Can't. Be. Happening.
-13-
I race around in circles, unable to enter what's left of the diner, yet unable not to try. All I want in this world is to get to my family, to see them safe. I shouldn't have left them. Cole is yelling for me to move away from the smoke and flames. I shouldn’t have left them for Cole. Glass continues to shatter somewhere within. Horrible pops and groans sound here and there.
But no voices. No breathing. No screaming, other than my own.
The once red-bricked building is now a horrible black-gray. The roof is gone, leaving the top a jagged line, exposing our living room and kitchen. The windows are blown out, and from outside I can see the flames that lick the perimeter of the diner. Every move I make churns the gravel made of glass that’s now covering the sidewalk.
Something gives inside, and a beam from the ceiling crashes to the ground. Dust and flames burst from every seam. The heat is more than I can handle, and I stumble backward into the street, almost getting hit by an oncoming fire truck. I didn't even hear the sirens. So many sirens. The lack thereof this morning was just the calm before the storm. This horrible storm of ash and flame. Two more fire trucks arrive, followed by an ambulance and police cars. Time is moving in soundless slow motion.
I'm pushed aside while firefighters stream into the rubble.
I drop to my knees and pray that my family is alive. That in only a few seconds I'll see them walk out so I can hold them and kiss them and tell them how much I love them.
"Please, God," I whisper.
A soft wind touches me, and momentarily I'm at peace, but I shake it off. The feelings of terror return.
Mr. Star emerges unscathed from the diner. The look on his face is one of concentration, but his hands look empty and lifeless. Why isn't he helping anyone else if he's fine?
After him, a firefighter comes through the smoky doorway helping a limping customer, a regular whose name I should know, but don’t. The firefighter walks him to sit on the same bench where, only moments ago, I had my first kiss with Cole. A paramedic aids him. I remember seeing the man, serving him a sandwich. He's missing his work hat.
Nobody is paying any attention to me, and Cole is nowhere in sight. I sneak closer with nobody to deter me. I remember seeing the man seated at the counter, near Noah, and near the door leading to the kitchen where Mom was cooking at the stove. They must be all right. Panic drives me forward.
I don't let myself think it could've been the stove that caused the blast.
I don't let myself worry that Noah had gone upstairs to wait for his burger and ice cream, where it looks like the blast was the worst.
I enter the smoky nightmare and cover my mouth with the skirt of my apron. I duck low and head straight for the kitchen. The doorway is blocked by fallen wood, but I think I hear something behind it. The half-wall that leaves an opening between the kitchen and dining area is also blocked off by flames, metal, and wood.
Frantic, I start to pry the wood away from the door. My hands are shaking but strong. An inner strength allows me to heave a large beam away. I go back for more. I'm about to pull away another fragment of the ceiling, but there's a creak and a pop, and I'm picked up and dragged toward the diner door. Half a second later, a metal rod and plaster drop where I'd been standing. I scream. Someone strong carries me into the street and places me against the florist wall.
"Trevor. No, I mean Travis?" Travis rescued me. I vow to remember his name from now on. Maybe try to learn a few customers' names. "You're okay." Relieved that someone else has gotten out safely, I can't help but wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. "Thank you for...” I pause, pull away and look him over. “Are you hurt?" There's blood dripping down his cheek, and his forearm has a jagged gash.
"I'm fine." His face is all angles, and his pale blue eyes drill into me. "What were you thinking going in there?"
I ignore him. "You're not fine. You're bleeding." I tug him toward an ambulance to find a medic. We stop at the ba
ck end of an ambulance to wait while the paramedic works on the leg of a regular customer whose name I never bothered to learn. I put my hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"
She nods, but there are tears in her eyes. I squeeze her shoulder and pull Travis a foot away. I remove my sweatshirt, ball it up, and hold it to the source of the blood on his face. He grimaces but allows it.
"What happened in there... and did you see my mom or Noah?" As soon as I ask, my heart pounds and the world brightens. I'm so scared.
He's shaking his head. "One minute, I was bussing table four; the next, the ceiling was around my feet. I don't even remember any sound. The smoke kept me from seeing anyone or knowing what was going on. I followed a pinhole of light to the street." He's looking toward the diner. "So, you haven't seen 'em?"
"That's why I went in." I set my jaw. "I have to find them."
The medic turns her attention to Travis, which frees me up to try again. The door is blocked by a firefighter, so I run around the back of the diner to where our car is parked and the stairs lead up to our apartment. My car is unharmed. Shouting distracts me from racing up the seemingly untouched steps. It sounds like Cole's voice. I run to the alley between our building and the retail store next door, wondering if he's found the source of the blast, remembering the robber and how he threatened me. When I spot Cole with another guy, I stop in my tracks.
The two are in each other's faces, fists clenched.
"I had nothing to do with it," Cole's saying. "I haven't gotten that bad."
"Yet," I hear the other guy say. When he turns, I can see it's the same boy from this morning's run. He's my age, maybe a little older. He's a little taller than Cole, and where Cole has a perpetual look of amusement on his face, this guy is all serious and stern. The two draw closer to one another and more words I can't hear are exchanged. Cole's normally happy face is distorted by a sneer as he throws a punch. The guy blocks it, but wraps the throwing arm around Cole's back. Cole shoots a foot backward, but misses the guy's knee. There's a flash of light so bright I blink and throw my arm up to block my eyes. When I open them, I think I must have imagined it, except there is an outline of a lighted figure between them. I shake my head and check that the building isn't throwing flames at us, because what else could that have been? There's nothing falling from the burning building. I clench my fists.
I don't like this guy messing with Cole.
"Hey!" I shout, running toward them. "Let him go."
I'm ready to fight, hands up, prepared for whatever this guy can dish out. I don't get the chance, because he releases Cole and drops his arms. His eyes pierce mine for a moment, like I should understand something I don’t. Like I should understand what he's doing.
He returns his stoic eyes to Cole. "You know this is the right thing to do.”
"Not yet," Cole says.
"Soon," he growls. "Very soon."
The boy throws me a look of annoyance before striding off and disappearing around the corner.
"What was that about?" I ask, grabbing Cole's hand.
He shakes his head, squeezing my hand. "Family trouble. More importantly, is your family okay?"
We race around the building. "I don't know yet." But no sooner are the words out of my mouth, than we see stretchers galore. I don't get a chance to bound the stairs to our apartment. Instead, I run from one stretcher to another, finally finding my mom and brother. I grab a paramedic. "Are they okay?"
She nods. "Taking them to St. Elizabeth's Hospital. We'll know more once they're there." She hooks a bag up to Mom's arm, and then my brother's. "You family?"
"They're my mom and brother." I choke on my tears.
"Meet us at the ER, and you'll be able to find out their status."
I turn my attention to my mom, whose face is smudged with soot and blood. Her eyes are closed. "Can she hear me?" I ask the paramedic.
Her blank face turns sad. "I don't know. She's unconscious, but there's a good chance."
I nod, tears racing down my cheeks. "I love you, Mom," I say, kissing her cheek before she's up in the ambulance and the double doors hide her from my view. I don't get a chance to get close to Noah before they seal him inside another wailing ambulance. "Noah, I'll be right there!" I yell.
"Let's go," Cole states, pulling my arm. He loads me into my car and takes a place at the wheel. I don't know how or where he found my keys, but I lay my head back, clench the door handle, and pray.
Please, let them be all right. More tears drip like raindrops, drenching my chest.
I shiver without my sweatshirt that's now covered in Travis's blood.
As we speed off, I look out my car window at the mess of people, and the disarray of the diner and my life.
-14-
The ER is not the mess of chaos it is on TV. Rather, it's quite calm. Cole leads me to the registry window, and I'm told my brother and mom have been brought in.
"You'll be able to see them in a bit. Just have a seat, and we'll call you when it's time." She holds her hand out to me. "Do you have a family insurance card?"
"Um...?" My brain appears to be paralyzed. I remember my purse. "Yeah. My purse is under the passenger seat." In preparation for work that night, I stashed my purse and maroon Triple X T-shirt in the car.
"I'll get it. Be right back," Cole tells me.
"No, it's okay. I'll—" I pat my pockets down, like it'll magically turn up in them. Shake my head. "Yeah, okay. Thanks."
A few months ago, my brother took a baseball to the face and needed stitches. I brought him to our regular pediatrician, and have had the insurance card ever since. Mom's always busy working, so I take care of pretty much everything else. Noah was a trooper that day, and I know he'll make it through this, too. He has to. I have no idea how much insurance will cover for this ER bill alone. Beyond that? We're going to be in deeper than we can afford, I'm sure. I've been wasting my time with other people. Cole. Homecoming floats. Tutoring. What have I been thinking? Any time I give to others is sure to be a loss. All that matters is my family, and I need money to take care of them. Mom doesn't have Dad, so I have to contribute.
The woman and I stare at each other. I tap my fingers on the counter.
"So... fire at Melissa's, huh?"
I raise my eyebrows. Bad news travels fast.
"Paramedics called ahead, so we'd be ready for the patients from the blast."
Ah. The name Melissa echoes in my head, bringing with it a headache from unshed tears. My mom named her diner after herself, so people would feel like they were coming over to a friend's house to eat. I'm unable to hold all the tears back as they fill my eyes. I wonder about everyone else, all the nameless diners. Whose names my mom would know and people she would worry about. "More like an explosion."
"Any idea what set it off?" she asks, folding her hands in front of her. She's wearing a ring on every finger with a different stone in each. They look expensive, and I wonder if they represent her children or grandchildren. I've always wanted to get Mom a necklace or ring with Noah's and my birthstones on it, but never could quite give in to spend money on something so... unnecessary.
The robber. The stove. Who knows? I swallow every tear. "It's my mom's place, our place." It's not an answer. Her question hangs there, an answer unreachable.
Her look softens. "Your mom's Melissa? Nice lady. Your dad around?"
I shake my head again.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
She purses her lips, leaning toward me. "I know you're not going to feel like it, but tomorrow you're gonna have to get on the phone with your insurance agency and file with them. You'll need help getting Melissa's back up and running."
My heart thumps when I think about what her words mean. I stare open-mouthed at her. "You don't think my mom'll be home by then?" And what about our apartment? Where will we live? Darkness is starting to wash down over my eyes, overwhelming me with fear and stress.
Cole returns and hands me my purse. I focus on breathing whi
le I dig through it for my wallet, which is a mess of library cards, punch cards from local pizza places, and finally, one insurance card. I hand it to her.
"Be right back with it." She takes it to a copy machine and then types on her keyboard. I lay my head on the counter.
"Miss, here you go." She hands the card back to me. "All set. Have a seat."
Cole puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me to a chair, worn from patients-in-waiting before me. Once we're sitting, I lean into him, laying my head against his shoulder.
"Thanks," I whisper, "for being here. You can go if you need to. Take my car. I think I'm going to be here for a long while."
"No place else to be. No worries."
"Okay, but if you change your mind..." I lean forward and pull out my cell phone. "I should call Mitch. And Molly."
I only want my family to be fine, want to find them and learn everything will be okay, but every turn at the hospital, finding the insurance card, seeing them on stretchers, the nurse's look outside the ambulance, tells me it will not be okay. I will not get to work tonight. I will be bedside. I return the insurance card to my wallet that has all of one dollar in it.
Mitch doesn't answer, so I leave him a message telling him what happened and where I am. "Please call as soon as you get this." I call Molly and leave her the same message, letting her know I won't be in to work.
I lean back again, and wait for what feels like years. What could they possibly be doing behind that swinging wooden door?
When finally my name is called, that feeling of panic returns. I'm scared to see Mom and Noah, to find out how badly they were injured.
Each footstep is a drop of lead onto the floor as I make my way to the door the nurse is holding open. When I pass her, she smiles but gives nothing away, though I search her face for a sign. I have no idea what to expect. We take an elevator, and she explains they've moved my mom and brother to the ICU. After a walk down another hallway, she pauses outside yet another door and turns to me.
