by Ella Fields
With a nod, she glanced at the small hospital, her slim throat bobbing as she was swept away by memories I’d put there.
I could hate myself for it and regret it until the day I died, but there’d be no use. So I got out, rounded the car as Daisy shut the back door, and helped Pippa out of the car.
The team showed up as soon as the game ended, still in their jerseys with sweat mussed hair. They all took seats when we told them there was no news yet. Mike even showed up, taking a seat in the back corner beside Robbo.
A few latecomers arrived, the new players mainly, who were showered and wanting to check in.
My leg bounced, Pippa’s hand doing nothing to still it as I glanced around for anything to distract me. The TV was playing, but the newscaster’s voice was too faint to hear over the din of noises surrounding us.
He’d be fine. Maybe a fracture. Surgery at worst.
Trying to convince myself was great but just being there had my nerves on high alert.
The smell, the sounds, the feeling of something forcing its way down my…
“Here.” Pippa handed me my phone. “You left it in the car.”
She’d opened the Words with Friends app on both my phone and hers. Silently, she played a game with me until finally, a full forty-five minutes after we’d arrived, a doctor came out.
Handing my phone to Pippa, Daisy, Ed, Quinn, and I all walked over to greet him.
“I’m Dr. Sullivan.” He glanced around our small group. “Is Mrs. Welsh here?”
Taken aback, I too glanced around. But I’d never met Callum’s mom, so I didn’t know who I was looking for.
Daisy rocked back on her heels. “Uh, I don’t know if his parents live locally.”
“They do,” I said.
The doctor shook his head, the noise of the waiting room rising over the sound of the automatic doors opening and closing.
“No, we’ve called Mrs. Welsh.” He glanced down at his clipboard. “Renee.”
“What?” Quinn asked what we were all thinking.
“I’m here,” Renee’s breathless voice came from behind us. We all turned, watching as she pushed some hair back behind her ear, her eyes trained on the doctor. “Where is he?”
“Wait, why are yo—”
Daisy’s hand smacked into Quinn’s chest, her eyes wider than saucers. “She’s his wife.”
The doctor stood there, waiting for us all to get our shit together, as Renee confirmed. “Yes. Now, where is he?”
“Come with me.” The doctor gestured through to the emergency room, but I caught the words X-rays and mild concussion before they disappeared through the frosted doors.
Sitting back down next to Pippa, I asked, “You get all that?”
“Uh-huh.” Her voice was low but full of mirth.
My cheeks hollowed as I blew out a long breath. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“Married?” Daisy kept saying. “Oh, my God. I kissed a married guy,” she hissed at Pippa, her eyes still wide enough to freak me out.
“I don’t need any reminders. Thanks,” Quinn muttered under his breath.
Pippa’s head fell to my shoulder, and my arm wrapped around her as we both laughed.
Ten years later
“It was just amazing, man. We really got it together in that last half. It just all really came together. Know what I’m saying?”
Nodding eagerly, I agreed. “I know. Looking forward to getting home to Lenita?”
“Yeah, man. She’s gonna pop any day now. Wait, can I shout out to her here? I can do that, right?”
“Go for it, but she’ll need to pick up the next issue of Sports Illustrated to catch it.”
Haze’s grin was megawatt as he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “If it says my name, she finds it. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”
Chuckling, I jerked my head for him to continue.
“Lenita, honey, I love you more than this game, more than life itself. Hopefully when you read this, little bunion will be here.”
“Bunion?” I asked, staring down at my notes to see if I’d missed something.
“That’s what we call the little guy. Yeah, yeah. I know it’s a foot thing. It was onion and then it … yeah, okay. You get the point.”
I didn’t but wasn’t about to argue the point with a guy twice as big as me who was still running high on adrenaline. “Say.” Haze took a sip from his water bottle, leaning forward and making the plastic chair groan. “Don’t you have a kid of your own now, Hawthorne?”
“I sure do.” A grin overtook my face at the thought of Darcy. “And another on the way.”
“Nice, man. Nice.”
“Will you be returning to the Lakers next season?”
Haze rubbed his bottom lip, trying to veil his smile. “I hope so. I don’t think my work here is done yet.”
After a few more questions, we wrapped the interview with rough claps on the back. “Wanna come out with us? Have a few drinks?”
“I know what your idea of a few drinks is,” I replied with a grin. “And I’ve got a flight to catch.”
“Pussy,” he joked. “Nah. Understandable, man.”
We clapped hands, and security led me out of the building to hundreds of fans waiting in the parking lot who were hoping for a sighting of the team or an autograph.
The lights streamed by in colorful blobs through the taxi window. The taxi window replaced an hour later with that of an airplane.
I settled back into my seat, rewriting and working my notes into chronological order for most of the trip home.
Home was now in Willowmina, where Pippa had gotten a job as a veterinary technician after graduating the year after me. Up until then, I’d taken local jobs with a small newspaper just outside of Gray Springs, which allowed me to stay close to Pippa and my psychologist while still living at the townhouse.
Pippa was either there, or I was at her place, but we didn’t move in together officially until we moved to her hometown. The amount of time we’d spent together had prepared us enough so the only thing that changed was our surroundings. And even though I’d broached the subject of moving in together many times before then, I knew Pippa clung to her independence with an iron fist created by residual fear.
There was nothing to be done for that except to slowly prove that fear wrong. Which I had.
Funnily enough, I didn’t feel guilty at all for moving farther away from my dad.
That was all thanks to Kara, who he’d met and married before Pippa and I even graduated. They both happily made the trip out to see us whenever he wanted to. Kara was good for him, kindhearted yet firm with two grown kids of her own. But she could’ve been the wicked witch of the west, and so long as she made my dad happy, I’d deal.
My phone lit up with Darcy and Pippa’s smiling faces as soon as I powered it on after walking through security. Climbing into my car, I let it idle as I read the stream of messages that’d come through.
Terry: The cake is blue. Did you know this? Does she want to confuse people?
Terry: Of course, she does. And of course, you didn’t know. I’ll let that slide, but I’m getting pink EVERYTHING.
I chuckled into the silence of the car when I got to the next one.
Mitch: Ignore her. I’ll try to tame the beast before tomorrow afternoon.
Terry: Did Mitch just text you? I swear he did, but the message is gone.
Terry: Never mind, he finally admitted it. Give my girls kisses from me. Good night, darling!
Drew: Do I have to come tomorrow?
Shaking my head, I ignored the others and responded to Drew.
Me: You know the answer to that.
He replied instantly.
Drew: Just saying, seems kind of pointless. You guys got enough girly shit at Darcy’s baby shower. I’ll just be watching the game anyway.
He and his father both.
Me: Blame your mom. She organized it, not us.
Drew had gradually let hi
s dad back in. It took some time and a lot more awkward yet amusing arguments over holidays and birthdays, but it happened. By the time he’d left for college, Pippa and I even got the sense that Drew wished he’d planned to stay closer to home.
A theory proven correct when he returned and began his sophomore year at Willmore Creek.
Finally, I got to the last message. The one I saved for last.
Pip-squeak: Miss you.
Me: Miss you more than words can describe. I’ll be home soon.
Smiling, I put my phone in my tote, the car in gear, and backed out, beginning the two-hour drive home.
I didn’t necessarily love the travel. Not without Pippa. But since Darcy arrived sixteen months ago, traveling alone was something I’d sadly gotten used to. It did make one thing clear, though. There really was no place, no person, like the one you called home.
The years had been good to us even when they’d been bad. Ups and downs had come our way, the downs weighing on us heavily, trying to drag us under. But we clung to each other, and Pippa stayed by my side through it all.
And I made sure I worked hard to be the very best version of myself that I could, knowing that not only Pippa deserved that, but I deserved it too.
Yawning, I pulled into the driveway of our four-bedroom loft, which sat on the outskirts of town and backed onto a large reserve. The lights were off, but that was to be expected after one in the morning.
As quiet as possible, I hauled my shit into the entryway and locked the door behind me.
Pulling out a clean pair of briefs from my bag, I stalked to the bathroom and took a quick shower. Once done, I went to check on my baby girl. Darcy’s door was open, though, so I knew she wasn’t in there.
Walking into our room, I smiled at the sight of Darcy sprawled out like a starfish on my side of the bed, sound asleep.
Pippa, however, was wide-awake.
She’d left the lamp on the lowest setting, and my stomach tightened at her mussed hair and swollen belly.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hey. Darcy keep you up?”
Her tired eyes blinked up at me as I stepped closer, tucking some hair behind her ear. “No, just waiting for you.”
My smile stayed as I carefully rounded the bed to smooth my fingers over Darcy’s velvety dark brown curls.
“How was it?” Pippa asked.
After bending and pressing a light kiss to Darcy’s forehead, I glanced over at Pippa, whispering, “Awesome. Haze hasn’t changed much.”
A touch of a smile tilted her lips before she murmured, “Come here.”
At night, when I was away, she sometimes struggled with her fears. Knowing her dad and I were at the root of those fears, I didn’t press the issue. I simply made sure I came home and answered any of her calls and texts. Which had lessened over the past few months. But waiting up when she and Darcy couldn’t travel with me was the one thing she hadn’t been able to fully let go of.
Call me a dick, but I liked having her awake when I got home. The reassurance she loved me that much, possibly as much as I loved her, and she wasn’t afraid to show it.
Pippa opened the duvet, nestling her head against the side of my chest when I laid down.
Her hand smoothed over my stomach, and I lifted it to my mouth, her wedding ring glittering under the soft light from the lamp as I kissed it.
“Read to me?” she asked.
Staring down at her, her seven-month pregnant stomach resting against mine, and with Darcy’s light breaths sailing through the room, I couldn’t think of anything else in the world that felt better than this.
Opening the worn, dog-eared, coffee, tea, and food stained copy of The Disappearance of Susie Westmore, I continued from where we’d last closed the book.
“…. the world could be a scary, dangerous place. Though it was our minds who were often to blame. Yes, the mind could be the most dangerous foe of all. A foe that went unnoticed, unsuspected, and therefore became a repeat offender. If only people realized that, then perhaps, none of this would have happened. Even after all that had occurred, Susie knew she was just in her convictions. No one killed for sport, and no one did bad things just because they woke up one day and felt like it.”
Pippa’s arm was limp over my stomach, and a glance down told me that she’d already fallen asleep.
Setting the book on the nightstand, I read on, whispering the words I knew by heart as I stroked my finger over the curve of her cheek.
“Susie used to think that monsters lurked in alleyways, under beds, or dwelled deep beneath city drains. Little did she know, monsters weren’t always physical beings. Sometimes, they were merely shadows that went untouched by a true source of light.”
The End.
Help can be hard to ask for, but easy to find.
www.beyondblue.org.au
thebutterflyfoundation.org.au
www.sane.org
www.mentalhealthamerica.net
www.7cups.com
www.anxietycentre.com
au.reachout.com
depression.org.nz
www.calmclinic.com
www.mentalhealth.org.uk
www.mind.org.uk
cmha.ca/mental-health
www.mentalhealthcanada.com
Have you read Daisy and Quinn’s story? Keep swiping for an excerpt from Suddenly Forbidden.
Seven years old
The grass whipped at my ankles, my lungs burned, and tears ran down my cheeks as I ran as fast as my legs would carry me into the field under the cover of a purple, darkening sky.
“Daisy!”
His voice penetrated my ears, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. That is, until a hidden ditch betrayed me and sent me tumbling to my butt.
Fudge nuggets.
Breathing heavily, I checked my ankle, then groaned, falling backward into the sea of dandelions as his nearing footsteps set the weeds swishing in a soft cadence that had my eyes closing.
I could feel the cool mud, thanks to this morning’s rain, seeping through my leggings and t-shirt. Even though Mama would spit fire at me, I couldn’t bring myself to sit up.
“There you are.” His footsteps stopped right next to my head. “Crap, I almost stepped on you.”
“Say it, don’t shout it, booger breath. Sheesh.” My eyes opened to find Quinn’s face blocking out the last hues of the sunset.
He laughed, then plonked to the ground, laying beside me. I kept my gaze facing upward, watching as night bled the last color of day from the sky, and a few stars started to twinkle into existence.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked after a minute. “Is it the rooster?”
I sniffed, wanting to lie, but I couldn’t. “Why’d your dad have to do that to him?”
“He says you can’t have too many roosters. Causes trouble among the flock.” He sighed. “Whatever that means.”
“Yeah, but I could’ve taken him home.”
Quinn laughed again, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “What? And have it join Frederick? Your mama is already not on good terms with him.”
Quinn’s dad reluctantly let me rescue Frederick, the rooster, a few months earlier. He wasn’t exactly friendly or the cuddliest pet, but Mama took one look at the squirming chicken in my arms and my pleading, wet eyes, and said we could keep him until she found it a home. Turns out, no one really needed another rooster in our small town.
Good for me and Fred. Bad for Mama.
Fingers brushed against mine in the grass. I turned my head as Quinn’s warm hand wrapped around my own. “Your mama’s going to be mad you got all muddy when you didn’t need to,” I blurted out.
Quinn just smiled, displaying teeth too big for his eight-year-old face. And still, I thought he was the most handsome boy in all of Clarelle. Even when he pulled my ponytail too tight or thought it was funny to make mud pies and throw them at me. “She won’t care when I explain.”
“She’ll think I’m a crybaby one of these days.” The th
ought made my heart drop. But I couldn’t help it; I just saw another rooster run around without its head.
I just knew I would have another nightmare when I fell asleep.
“She’d never think that. She’ll call me smitten again and give me that weird look.”
My lips twisted to the side, and I watched his long lashes flutter as he kept his eyes steadfast on mine. “What’s smitten mean?”
He seemed to think about it for a moment, before shrugging slightly. “Heck if I know. Probably that I’m doing something silly again.”
“Did …” I swallowed thickly. “Did the rooster die?”
His light brows furrowed. “Yeah, Dais. It’s dead.”
Wetness trailed down the side of my cheek, escaping into my messy blond hair.
“Don’t cry.” Quinn’s face crumpled, and he squeezed my hand. “Hey, maybe we can bury him?”
Sniffling, I asked, “Really? How?”
He smiled and let go of my hand, getting up before grabbing it again to help me to my feet. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
We raced each other back to the barn, the sky now blanketed in black, and heard Quinn’s mom calling him from the porch of their big ranch-style home.
He hollered, “Two minutes, Mama!”
Grabbing the kid-size shovel from the set he’d gotten last Christmas, he led me over to the willow tree in the back field where our favorite tire swing swung gently in the breeze.
