Wingmen (Modern Love Story #2, 4, & bonus)

by Daisy Prescott

  Again, I lost my words.

  “Hello? Can you hear me? Damn island cell service,” she muttered into the phone.

  “I’m still here.”

  “Oh, I thought the call dropped. You never answered my question.”

  “What question?” I played dumb to buy myself some time while the word love bounced around in my brain like a pinball.

  “Are you in love with Diane?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t know or won’t say? And what happened to Kelly? Is she still in the picture? John Day, if you are two-timing these women, you’re in big trouble.” Her voice rose in exasperation.

  “Not seeing Kelly anymore. I thought I told you about that. Pretty sure she’s back with the husband.”

  “Ouch. What a bitch.”

  “You said it not me.”

  “I’m glad. The last thing you need is messy emotional baggage.”

  I shuddered. “Yeah.”

  “Got it. There’s no reason you and Diane can’t be together.”

  Another opening. This time I rallied my courage and took it. “There’s a big reason. You’re moving back into your cabin. She’s leaving.”

  My phone was silent. I pulled it away from my ear to see if the call had been dropped this time. Maggie’s voice squawked from the speaker, but I couldn’t hear her.

  “What?”

  “What what? I asked when the last time you and Diane spoke was.”

  “Um, it’s been over a week. Closer to two really.”

  “Jesus, John!”

  “What? Why are you yelling at me?”

  “You haven’t spoken with her at all?”

  “No, I told you it’s been a while.”

  More unintelligible swearing followed.

  “What are you saying? All I hear is cursing.”

  “Okay, where are you?” she asked.

  “I’m standing in my living room.”

  “I need you to sit down.”

  My heart stopped and I held my breath. People only told you bad news when they asked you to sit down. Dad told me to sit down when he called me in the middle of the night to tell me about the accident.

  Oh, fuck.

  Tingling spread up my arm from my finger-tips. Blood rushed in my ears. “Is she okay?” I whispered, backing up until my legs hit the chair. I slumped against the arm and silently chanted, “Please be okay” in my head.

  “John? I don’t want you to beat yourself up. You didn’t know. I figured you knew already. That’s why I asked if you were okay. I didn’t say anything because I thought, well, I thought you would’ve been with her at the hospital.” Her words were said in what was Maggie’s attempt at a soothing tone.

  “Tell me,” I shouted.

  Fuck.

  Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.

  “There was an accident.”

  ACCIDENT.

  I NEVER wanted to hear those words again in my life. Ever.

  “Is she home?” I stood up too fast and the room swam with stars.

  Shaking my head to clear my vision, I already had my hand on the door when Maggie spoke, “She’s okay. Now. She’ll be fine. But she’s in Coupeville.”

  “Coupeville?” Why would she be in Coupeville?

  “John, she’s still in the hospital.”

  I started the truck before I even realized I had left the house, the phone and Maggie’s voice tucked between my ear and shoulder.

  “John? What are you doing? Hello?”

  “I’m here. I’m in the truck.”

  “Stop. You need to calm down before you see her.”

  Shit. I banged my hand against the steering wheel. The horn sounded.

  “Listen, she’s okay. I swear. She’s being held for observation with a bump on the head, bruised ribs, and a broken wrist from the airbag.”

  “What the fuck happened?”

  “On the way to Langley this morning she hydroplaned after avoiding a deer and lost control. Ended up in a ditch. I’m surprised you didn’t hear already. Typically news travels fast up there.”

  “I’ve been ignoring everyone and everything all week.”

  “I’m so sorry. I assumed you knew. I honestly didn’t know or I wouldn’t have asked all that stuff about love.”

  The burning sting settled back in my chest.

  “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

  “You all right?” she asked.

  “Not really. Do you know when visiting hours are at the hospital?”

  “I have everything at Whidbey General memorized. You can see her until eight tonight.”

  The truck’s clock showed the time as five-thirty. I exhaled a deep breath and attempted to calm myself.

  “You’re going up there, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  “She’ll be home tomorrow morning. You could wait. If things weren’t good between you, you might want to wait.”

  “I’m not waiting. This is bullshit. No word to let me know she’d been hurt? What the fuck is that about?”

  “Did you tell her about your mom?”

  “I did.”

  “There’s your answer. She probably didn’t want to worry you. And if you had fought, she wouldn’t want to bother you.”

  “Fuck.”

  “So you were fighting?”

  “Damn it. This is my fault. Stupid self-sufficiency conversation.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Our fight. It was about her not being an islander and how islanders are self-sufficient. Not even a fight. I was being an asshole.”

  “Oh—”

  I cut her off. “Seriously. Don’t sympathize with me right now. I fucked this up and need to take the blame.” I banged my fist against the top of the steering wheel.

  “Okay.”

  “I need to fix this.”

  “You do. Can you?” she asked.

  “I have no idea.” I didn’t have a clue what I would say or do to make it right, but I would. “Listen, thanks for letting me know. I owe you big time.”

  “No worries. You can pay me back and take Gil fishing.”

  I grumbled.

  “You’ll have fun. You two are going to get along great.”

  “Fine. I’m hanging up. I need to get to the hospital.”

  “Go get your girl, John.”

  Luck favored me when I sped up island and didn’t encounter a single cop or slow-ass logging truck.

  I stood in the lobby gift shop stalling for time and debating on flowers. I didn’t know if flowers would be inappropriate or lame, so I texted Maggie, who approved.

  All the flowers looked like the biggest cliché ever. Red roses didn’t feel right and the rest had seen better days. Balloons felt too festive. Browsing the store like I was casing the joint, I finally found something appropriate.

  The older lady at the information desk told me Diane’s room number and pointed me down the hall. I thanked her, then took a seat in the lobby, trying to calm my nerves. I hated hospitals and avoided them at all costs.

  I couldn’t do this. Diane would be home tomorrow. I could see her then. Right. I’d stop over tomorrow and check on her at home.

  I stood and the woman at the desk smiled at me.

  “It’s okay, Son. Hospitals make a lot of people nervous. Even big strapping men like yourself. I don’t think your girlfriend has had any visitors all day. I bet she’ll be excited to see you.”

  I started to say she wasn’t my girlfriend, but stopped myself. For one thing, it was none of her business what my relationship was with Diane. And secondly, I didn’t want to deny anything anymore.

  I thanked her and followed her directions down the hall to the patient rooms. Nurses in colorful scrubs passed me, their shoes squeaking on the floor. A few patients in wheelchairs sat outside rooms in the broad hall. I passed the open doors and the sounds of televisions.

  I stood outside her room for a minute, gaining my courage. Maybe Diane didn’t want to see me.
She didn’t call me. Who was her emergency contact?

  Behind me an older man in a blue robe coughed on his way down the hall with his walker. The nurse holding his elbow gave me the once over and asked if she could help me.

  “No. I’m here to see Diane Watson.”

  “Oh, well, you’re standing in front of her room. She hasn’t had any visitors. You’ll be her first.”

  Fuck. Guilt washed over me. I inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it out.

  “Go on in. She should be awake.” The nurse encouraged me with a smile.

  I could do this.

  I lightly knocked on the door and shuffled into the room. The first bed on the left was empty and the curtain was partially drawn around the bed by the window.

  “Hello?” I said, peering around the fabric divider.

  “Um, hi.” Diane sat up further in the hospital bed. She wore a hospital gown and her left arm was in a cast. Maggie had told me she’d hit her head, but I wasn’t prepared for the bruises on her face.

  I guess I stared at her face too long when she said, “I must look like shit.”

  “No, no. It’s just I didn’t know what to expect.”

  “I look like shit. The shiner is going to take a while to fade.”

  “Makes you look tough. Like a fighter.” It wasn’t a lie. She looked fierce. “Or a ninja after a fight.”

  She laughed, which caused her to suck in her breath in pain. “Ow.”

  “Sorry.” I hated seeing her in pain. “Can I get you anything? Are you on good drugs?”

  “The drugs aren’t bad. Thank goodness for pharmaceuticals.”

  “Good.”

  Silence grew between us.

  “I brought you something.” I held out the salmon plush toy.

  “You brought me a stuffed fish?”

  “Salmon, a Chinook. I didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked. Or if you like balloons.” I shook my head. “I saw the salmon and thought of our fishing adventure. So, yeah, here.” I laid the fish next to her on the bed.

  Picking it up, she smiled, soft but genuine. “It’s about the size of the one I caught.”

  “It is. It’s a fine looking fish.”

  “I’m guessing Maggie called you.” She tucked the fish close to her side.

  I scratched my sideburn. “I called her about an hour ago and she told me.”

  “I couldn’t … I didn’t want to call you after last week. I, um, didn’t want to be a burden.” Tears filled her eyes and she wiped them away before turning her head to face the window.

  I stood in place for longer than I should have. This beautiful woman cried because of me. Me and my stupidity.

  I cleared my throat and gently sat on the edge of her bed.

  “Diane.” I waited for her to look at me. When she did, I reached to touch her right hand lying on the bed. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t lace her fingers with mine either. Still, I kept contact with her. I needed some reassurance she was here and okay.

  She sniffled and tried to wipe her nose on the back of her hand in the cast. Leaning toward her, I grabbed the box of tissues off the tray table next to the bed. She held her breath when I moved close to her.

  After she blew her nose, she handed the box back to me. I noticed she winced when she lifted her arm.

  “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “No, it only hurts when I move, laugh, or breathe.” She smiled and I returned it.

  “In other words, it hurts.” I chuckled.

  “Not as much as my ego.”

  “Why?”

  “Crashing the Jeep in the rain.”

  “The crash could’ve happened to anyone.”

  “Ever happen to you?”

  “Sure. I fishtailed in my ‘68 Mustang in high school. Hit the back bumper on a guardrail and did a 360.”

  “Wow. That’s impressive.”

  “It was. I got in major trouble, but it was pretty cool when it happened.”

  “Yesterday wasn’t cool. The airbag was the worst part and I have it to thank for being in here.”

  “For being here at all,” I whispered.

  Her sad eyes met mine and I felt the nettle sting in my chest again.

  I tapped the plaster of her neon green cast. “Nice cast. Did you get to pick your color?”

  “I did. The Ortho was very sweet and he let me have a color.”

  “He?” Of course ‘he’ let her pick a color. He was probably flirting with her.

  “Dr. Scott. You know him?”

  “Nope. Must be new.” My voice rumbled with my jealousy.

  “Jealous?”

  “No,” I said. A little too quickly. “Maybe.”

  “He’s married. Not that it matters.”

  We fell into silence. I still held her non-broken hand.

  “I wish you had called me.”

  “I wasn’t sure… After our good-bye, I wasn’t sure where we stood. All your talk of self-sufficiency …”

  I had droned on and on about that, but she’d missed the part about islanders taking care of each other.

  I frowned at her, then ran my hand over my jaw. “You know I would’ve dropped everything to come be with you. You have to know that.”

  She blinked back a few tears and nodded her head.

  “Damn it, I hate thinking about you being all alone after the accident and then here. No one should be alone in the hospital. Who’s your emergency contact?”

  “It’s Traci down at the studio.”

  “That’s bullshit. It should be me.”

  Her head snapped back. “Oh, really? We haven’t spoken in over a week.”

  “So? We’re neighbors and have been friends for months.”

  She frowned, then turned away from me again. “Traci’s my boss.”

  I ran my hand up the back of my head. “Fine.”

  “Fine,” she said.

  Her eyes wandered down to my hand holding hers and we both stared at our hands. Everything felt awkward and whatever I said didn’t make it better. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and hug her, kiss her forehead, and let her know she wasn’t alone. She had me. If she wanted.

  Instead the room rippled with tension.

  “When do you get out of here?”

  “They’re keeping me overnight for observation because I hit my head. And I live alone,” she whispered the last sentence.

  She was breaking my heart. There was no reason she had to be alone, except for me. I ruined everything.

  Again.

  “I can give you a ride home.”

  “Traci already offered.”

  I glared at her.

  “Stop glowering at me.”

  “Stop being stubborn.”

  She shifted on the bed and attempted to cross her arms before wincing and dropping the cast to her side where it rested on top of the salmon.

  “Truce? I know we need to talk about the camping trip, but my biggest … no, my only, concern right now is getting you home and looked after.”

  “Since when are you the good Samaritan?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “Which is it, John? Nice guy or asshole? You’re making my head spin more than this concussion.”

  Her words held the question I’d be asking myself a lot the past week.

  “Probably both. I’m far from perfect.”

  She frowned. “No one’s perfect.” Her good hand lifted and gently poked at her face where blue and purple bloomed on the skin. “No one is a complete asshole either.”

  I raised my eyebrow.

  “I’m going to stand by that,” she said, and yawned. “Sorry. The meds make me sleepy, but they keep waking me up all the time to check on me so I can’t sleep.”

  We were back on neutral territory and I felt my shoulders relax.

  “Reminds me of when I had my surgery after blowing out my knee. It’s a unique form of torture being in the hospital.”

  “I’ve never stayed overnight before.”

&nbs
p; “The staff’s pretty good here. Are they being nice to you?”

  “They are. And the food isn’t bad either.”

  I gave her an incredulous look. “Seriously? You must’ve hit your head.”

  “It isn’t. I swear.” She smiled.

  “I’ll take your word for it. And on that note, I’m going to head out so you can rest. They’ll kick me out of here soon anyway. But I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

  “John—”

  “Don’t try to change my mind. I’m coming.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes, acting resigned, but a small smile flirted at the corner of her mouth.

  I decided to push my luck since she agreed about tomorrow. After standing, I leaned toward her. She didn’t flinch or hold her breath when I gently pressed my lips on the top of her head. After I straightened up, I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, “I’m sorry. More than you know.”

  Her eyes closed and her breathing deepened. I waited for her to open her eyes before I left.

  Opening her eyes, she met mine. “Goodnight, John. Thank you.” She picked up the salmon and held it in her good arm.

  I wasn’t sure if she was thanking me for the apology, or stopping by, or the fish. Maybe all of the above.

  “You’re welcome, Diane.” She looked so young sitting there with her green cast and tousled hair. Young and alone. I pointed to the fish. “You won’t be alone tonight. See you in the morning.”

  In the lobby, the same woman whom I spoke with earlier sat at the information desk. When I passed her, she gave me a wink followed by a knowing smile.

  “Nice long visit. I’m sure your girlfriend feels better having you here.”

  I didn’t correct her. No reason to.

  SLEEP DIDN’T COME easily last night with all the thoughts and dreams spinning around my mind, mixing past and present, accidents in snow and rain. Rain wet pavement switched to white, ditches turned into semi-trucks.

  I finally gave up at four a.m. and went downstairs. At seven, I paced a loop around the living room while Babe watched me from his bed in the corner. I called Steve at seven-thirty to get the Jeep towed to him for repairs. By eight, I’d had enough and decided to wait it out at the hospital, visiting hours be damned.

  On the way to the hospital I stopped off at the Fellowship of the Bean coffee hut and bought Diane’s favorite white mocha along with an extra large black coffee for myself.