by M. C. Cerny
“Hunter, you’re a good man.” Alan stood up and held his hand out to shake mine. His grip was weak and as he leaned in he stumbled.
“Alan? Alan!” Falling to the floor her father clutched his chest and I dropped down with him bracing his head so he didn’t hit the coffee table or the wood flooring on his way down.
He looked at me choking out what I hoped weren’t his last words. “I love her so much.”
I grabbed my phone to call 911. Holding Alan’s hand I called the dispatcher and put her on speaker phone relaying his collapse. My CPR cert was up to date, but it had been years since I used it in a practical sense, not since the military.
“Alan, hold on. Don’t you fucking give up on me.” I did the chest compressions in a daze until the front door pushed open and the paramedics pulled me off of him to continue working on his heart. The dispatcher ended the call as they took over. Confused, I was no longer needed but couldn’t get myself to move.
“Hunter, come with me.”
I didn’t know who was pulling my arm and guiding me out of the house until we stepped outside.
“You did good. They’ve got him now.” It was Evan or rather Officer Rooney speaking to me.
Wiping the tears off my face, I picked up my phone dreading this part the most. “I have to call her,” but all I did was stare blankly at the phone.
“You want me to do it?” He put his hand on my shoulder, steady but gentle. Evan probably had to do this shit all the time. Besides him fooling around with Kristen, I didn’t understand why Damien had such shit for this guy.
No, I could do it. I hadn’t realized my face was wet, tears streaming down. My shirt sleeve was good enough to clean me up.
“I got it.” I said and he nodded backing up and picking up his radio to call ahead.
The phone shook in my hand as I watched them roll the gurney outside the front door of the house and bounce down the three brick laid front steps to the walkway. I dialed letting it ring once, twice before putting the phone up to my ear waiting for her voice.
“Hunter?” Things were still not okay between us but I was grateful she picked up my call and I cleared the heaviness from my throat.
“Taylor Jane where are you?” The words choked me up because I was the one having to deliver this news. The ambulance sirens hadn’t stopped and the blaring behind me would only increase her anxiety. I knew Taylor Jane too well.
“I’m at the house waiting for Kristen to get here. What’s going on? Where are you?” I imagined she was looking around, somewhat frantic almost panting with worry and my bones filled with icy dread knowing I wasn’t there to hold her or calm her down.
“Hunter, you getting in? They’re going.” Evan pointed to the ambulance where they were working on her dad. She would go ballistic knowing he might be alone right now. I made the decision to go nodding and jogging over.
“Hunter, what’s happening?”
“Honey, wait for Kristen to get there.” I cupped my hand over the receiver to mute out the most of the background noise but it was no use.
“You’ll need to sit up front.” The driver, a young guy, younger than me called out from his side of the ambulance and I ran around sliding in on the passenger side closing the door.
“Why?” Her voice shook and I knew that that she knew what I was going to say in that eerie way that connected us. Stubborn woman was going to make me do this the hard way.
“I need her to drive you to the hospital.”
The driver pulled out of our old development and onto the road toward the hospital.
“What’s going on? Tell me what the fuck is going on?” Her voice wavered, shaking through the phone and I cursed myself a thousand times. If only. I had a lifetime’s worth of fucking if only.
“Your Dad had a stroke, he’s okay, but I don’t want you driving, and getting into an accident.”
“Daddy?” I felt her sliding to the ground whispering through the phone if it was possible, and her grief became mine.
“Taylor Jane, honey, listen to me. He’s okay, but I don’t want you driving because then I’ll be worried out of my mind.”
“He’s okay?” She’s not listening to me and my stomach does its own clenching.
“Baby, he’s going to be fine.” I lied through gritted teeth as we sped faster through lights and around cars. He was unresponsive by the time the medics got there. “I’m in the ambulance with him. I need you to let Kristen or Damien to drive you to the hospital.”
“I–I will.” Now who was lying, I heard her keys jingle as she reached into her purse for them.
“Taylor Jane Bryant, if you so much as get behind the wheel of that car I will take you over my knee the second I see you.” I would too. I would spank her ass within an inch of her life and not a playful whack intended for pleasure. I would make sure she was so sore she would remember my hand every time she got up to walk around. I’d had enough discipline in my life to rein it in and not be an abusive asshole. I would never hit her to hurt her but the control freak that brewed deep inside me roared to life and the only thing containing it was the steady heartbeat of her father from the back of the ambulance. His condition was tenuous at best and I was scared shitless.
29
Taylor Jane
“Dad! Daddy!” I ran into the emergency room, a lunatic on a mission. I had jumped out of my car and pumped my legs hard running inside. An orderly jumped out of my way and I pushed out and apology to get to my destination. My hair whipped my face tangled from the braid. I didn’t spend time inside hospitals if I could help it since my mother’s death. I didn’t have a phobia about hospitals, but the anxiety that coursed through my body was nearly crippling. The sounds of machines beeping and the smell of antiseptic burning my nose made my head spin. Getting an unexpected phone call in the middle of the day made my heart drop. What would I do without my daddy? My stubborn protector who was every bit as hard headed as Hunter.
“Miss! You can’t go back there!” A nurse from the desk in the emergency department stood up and came around the corner to stop me from running in the back. She held her hands up to stop me. I was prepared to barrel through her if I needed to. Not much had changed at Holy Trinity in the years since I was here last. I tried looking over her shoulder but it was useless. Short people got the–well, short end of things usually.
“My dad, Alan Bryant was checked in a little bit ago. He had a stroke, I think.” Word vomit followed with things like, I need to see him right now, what room is he in, and when can I talk to the doctor. Her hands were still up beseeching but I could be persuasive when I wanted. After all, I did convince Hunter to help me flip that house.
“Okay, I will get a doctor to come out and speak to you miss, but you need to wait here.” She pushed past the double doors eying me up and down in case I might be a runner. I thought about it, but I stayed put. Leaving me in the waiting room, my purse hung from my finger tips with my cellphone and keys clutched in my other.
“Please god, don’t let me lose my daddy.” I whispered to know one but me in the semi full room filled with several people who were involved in their own struggles, none I recognized from town. I called Kristen as I sprinted from the project house and raced in the car to get here. She yelled at me to wait for her, she had already been on her way to the house, but I hung up instead. My phone beeped with calls from Damien, but I hit ignore so I wouldn’t be distracted driving. I put my pedal to the floor racing to get here. I passed a cop car on the way but he didn’t even blink. I figured once I crossed the bridge into Poughkeepsie I wasn’t going to get pulled over. My chest hurt and I rubbed the bone between my breasts, the ache pinching my heart.
“Sweetheart.” The hoarse voice made me look up into wide eyes that looked as glassy and as tear stung as mine felt. My throat parched and my face drained seeing Hunter emerge from behind the doors. He grabbed me and held me up by putting his hand under my braid and cradling my head which he pushed down into his thick chest. My hands reach
ed up and my fingers clawed the worn cotton of his shirt, half-mad and half-relieved. I was hanging on by a thread and he was slowly stitching me back together one painful push of the needle at a time.
“My dad?” I was more wobbly than I wanted to admit as Hunter pulled me down the hall to an open room where we could sit.
Hunter lowered me down onto his lap and his hands roamed everywhere until they stopped on my cheeks holding my face to his as he spoke. Over his shoulder was an abstract print of blue and grey slashes of watercolor hung against the dirty white wall scuffed in places. I wondered if it was the same picture in every hospital because I felt like I had seen it before.
“Taylor Jane, look at me.”
“The painting.” Hunter glanced over his shoulder.
“It’s ugly honey, focus on me please.”
“Uh huh, daddy?” I asked in a daze needing to know how my father, my only parent was faring.
“He’s in surgery.”
“Stroke?” I asked but already knowing.
“Yes, but he’s getting a stent and should be okay. We’ll see him soon.”
“I don’t know what I would do without him.”
“You won’t have to find out, sweetheart.”
We sat in the silence of the room, me catching my breath and Hunter’s heart slowing down to a manageable thump–thump, thump–thump.
“Thank you, Hunter.” I mumbled into his neck now wet from my tears.
He pulled me back, his hand clutching my hair hard, but not enough to hurt me, just enough to get my attention. “Don’t thank me yet.” His voice growled as he shifted my body quickly. His anger was unexpected and I didn’t understand what had caused the shift in his mercurial mood this time.
“Hunter?”
“I am going to spank your ass raw for scaring the shit out of me. I asked you to not drive.” He pushed me down over his lap and like a zombie I didn’t move or resist.
“Oh.” I stared at the tiles on the floor, he wouldn’t actually hit me. Would he?
“Yeah, oh, sweetheart.” He spanked me three times hard, tears stung my eyes and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. We were in a hospital for Christ’s sake. He was spanking me, that asshole, not that I was protesting or disagreeing, shocked was more like it.
The door opened and our friends barged in like the dynamic duo. “Uh, we can come back if we’re interrupting anything.” I looked up half slung over Hunter’s lap into Damien’s smirking face and Kristen looking as shocked as I felt.
“Shut up, Demon.” Kristen slapped him hard against his chest, and internally I cheered yay for my bestie!
“He told her not to drive.” I couldn’t believe Kristen wasn’t on my side on this one. Damn traitor.
Damien crossed his arms over his chest, likely to protect himself for anymore unsolicited abuse from Kristen. “Hey, if you’re into that kinky shit, who am I to judge?”
Hunter helped me to stand up and cautiously rubbed my jean clad butt that was stinging fiercely. He leaned over so only I could hear his words. “I’m not done with you.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t in agreement. He wasn’t punishing me like that again, even if I did deserve it. “How?” I asked wondering how he even knew if I drove or not. He fished out his phone and held up a photo message sent to him from Evan Rooney.
That cop was an asshole. I was suddenly feeling Team Damien on this one.
“He should have pulled you over.” I didn’t need any favors from the town cop, I needed my dad to be okay, and I needed Hunter and me to be okay again, whatever that meant.
“Miss Bryant?” We all looked toward the doorway with the surgeon standing there.
“Yes, that’s me. My dad?”
“He’s going to be okay, but we need to talk.” That hopefulness I felt? It was back to being a pit of dread in my stomach again.
The surgeon lead us to another room, this one was more of a conference room and he waited until we all sat down and I nodded that it was okay for Hunter, Kristen, and Damien to stay. Hunter kneaded my shoulders and helped me to a seat in the room.
“How is he?” I asked letting Hunter drape his arm over my shoulder though my ass smarted in the seat. Kristen grabbed my hand and squeezed gently.
“Your father has a heart condition. It would seem he’s had it for some time, but has left it mostly untreated. Why is that, Miss Bryant?”
The news shocked me because we hadn’t discussed his health besides him consuming less salt and more vegetables since I’d come home. He’d been keeping more than the financial problems from me and now I wondered what else had been kept from me.
My gaze slid over to Hunter who was looking down at the table, his eyes fixated on the striations of fake wood that must have been pissing him off because it wasn’t something he could carve or mold with his capable hands. Hands that had held me, cared for me, and up until this moment, I hadn’t questioned if he lied to me.
So I asked the one direct question I could, “Hunter, did you know about this?”
I watched his throat bob in a swallow. It was his tell–the thing he did when he didn’t want to lie to me. The movement was so subtle and yet it brought back everything, especially that moment at prom right before he got ready to leave me and break my teenage heart. Now I was older, supposedly wiser and my grown up heart was fracturing all the same.
30
Hunter
“Daddy.” Taylor Jane catapulted over the table to get to her father’s room once the surgeon directed us outside into the hallway with directions up to the Cardiac floor. I followed closely behind to see how this was going to play itself out. The surgeon cautioned that Alan needed extensive rehab after his stroke and to take care of himself including his heart medications. Medications I was already paying for because the stubborn man wasn’t going to the pharmacy like he should and filling them as prescribed.
Taylor Jane continued to ignore my physical presence at her side and I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t say how much I had known about Alan’s condition, but she was smart enough to put the pieces together. Her father had been protecting her. I had been protecting her, but I was also the only safe person she could rail at right now with the unfairness of what we had both done. Resigned, I accepted this.
She was inside the room and with a dark glance in my direction I gave her space, but not enough to let her think I was leaving her here. I still was pissed about her driving here upset and that was a demon of my own to deal with.
Her father was groggy but slowly coming around which was good to see. “You look just like your mother,” he said and they hugged and cried while I stayed outside the room keeping the pair of misfits in line.
“So you knew about this?” Kristen poked me in the back. I had not only one female pissed at me, but the whole damn population of New Paltz by the time news of this got out. The saving grace was that I didn’t care for the opinions of others, just one stubborn blond who stole my heart.
“Stop it.” I grabbed her hand to make her quit with the jabs, but she was an evil woman.
“Did you?” Damien asked.
“I sort of found out a while ago.”
“How long is a while ago.” Kristen stood like a sentry her arms crossed over her chest.
It would figure, in this circle I was on everyone’s shit list. “Am I like the bad guy now?”
“Right now, yeah.” I couldn’t dispute Kristen’s concerns, but I hadn’t lied, only omitted the truth because her father asked me too.
“I was purchasing his medications because he wouldn’t use the money he had given Taylor Jane for the mortgage deposit on the project house.”
“That doesn’t matter, you kept her out the loop.”
I gritted my teeth. There would be no winning this battle. “He asked me not to, I was trying to honor his wishes.”
“Bro, just apologize.” The moment I started taking advice from my cousin was the day the world shifted on its axis. Damien had no idea how much Taylor Jane would feel
betrayed by this. There was no winning, but I was ready to concede.
31
Taylor Jane
I stayed in the hospital well past visiting hours curled up with my neck and arms protesting. My eyes were soaked and raw, but as daddy slept in his bed and me in the chair, I spied a pair of long legs stretched out in a seat just outside the door. He couldn’t have comfortable slouched over like that, because Hunter had never left.
How do you stay mad at someone who was only trying to protect you?
I couldn’t.
I had no idea what time it was, but neither my dad nor Hunter stirred when the nurse on duty came in to check him. His vitals were strong; he was going to make it. The next question was would I make it if I let Hunter go? Quietly, I got up and sneaked past his big hunk of a body down the hall to the coffee machine in the waiting room. I saw Pastor Rooney reading from a Bible probably waiting to see my dad. Evan’s father had come when my mother died, dad wasn’t dying but I did need him to focus on living. The surgeon had passed me several brochures for beautiful rehab centers in the area that could help him get back on his feet. Once I sold the project property I could pay for it outright and clear the debts borrowed on my parent’s house. It had to work, it was my only option and though stressed, I felt good about letting the beautiful house Hunter and I worked so hard on go. I only hoped it was someone who could appreciate specially designed closet space, original claw foot tubs, and the bane of Hunter’s existence–that crown molding in the living room.
Pastor Rooney nodded to me and I grabbed two coffees from the machine walking back to my dad’s room. The paper cups were burning my finger, a penance I supposed for my bratty behavior the night before. I stood three feet away from Hunter hoping I hadn’t put miles between us feeling so betrayed last night. He wore the same clothes, tight fitting t-shirt, work jeans in a faded blue they reminded me of the morning sky, and his steel toe boots.
