Kiss the Girl

by Melissa Brayden

  “Something’s wrong with my mom. She won’t wake up.”

  The words were enough to jar Brooklyn fully awake and to attention mode without preamble. She could leap fast when called upon, a happenstance of living in volatile homes for a good portion of her life. Always be ready to defend yourself.

  Ashton rushed back to her apartment with Brooklyn close behind her. As they entered the master bedroom, the undeniable scent of alcohol smacked Brooklyn in the face like a two-by-four. There, lying on the ground next to the bed, was Ashton’s mother, seemingly asleep. Or passed out. She wasn’t sure which. But her instincts kicked in and she knelt down next to Ashton’s mother, took a pulse, and then listened for breath sounds. She was alive. Thank God. “What’s her name?” she asked Ashton.

  “Karina Coleman.”

  “Karina? Can you open your eyes?”

  Nothing.

  She tried again. “Karina. I’m here with Ashton, and we need you to try and open your eyes for us.”

  Karina’s eyes fluttered slightly before closing again altogether.

  She turned back to Ashton. “Do you know how much she had to drink?”

  Ashton shook her head, and that’s when Brooklyn saw what she’d missed earlier. Ashton sported a newly swollen left eye, complete with the customary red and purple discoloration.

  Pieces of the puzzle were beginning to assemble themselves, and Brooklyn had a fairly clear picture of what the night prior had entailed. She was familiar enough with black eyes to know they don’t happen on their own. But it was secondary to what they needed to deal with now, so she pushed past it, ordering herself to focus.

  “What’s going on?” Jessica asked from the doorway. After taking in the scene, she rushed over to them and knelt next to Brooklyn. “Oh my God. Is she okay?”

  “Hopefully. But I need you to call 9-1-1. Can you do that? She’s had way too much to drink, and she needs an ambulance.”

  “An ambulance?” Ashton asked, her eyes wide in terror. “Could she die? Oh, God. Please, no. She can’t die.” She was crying harder now, and Brooklyn wrapped both arms around her from the side in comfort, listening to Jessica on the phone in the living room.

  “She’s going to be okay, sweetie. We just need to sit here with her and keep her company until the ambulance gets here.” But what she really meant was they needed to make sure that she continued to breathe on her own. Brooklyn had counted and she was taking fewer than seven breaths a minute, which was fairly shallow. She was trying desperately to remember what she’d learned about alcohol poisoning in that CPR class Mallory had them all take the year prior. Thank God for Mallory and her overly concerned side.

  “They’ll be here in five or six minutes tops,” Jessica reported.

  Brooklyn smoothed Ashton’s hair and looked back at Jessica. When their eyes locked, she saw her own panic and fear mirrored in Jessica’s eyes. The silent exchange was fleeting, however, as those were two emotions she did not plan to display in front of Ashton. She needed them to be strong for her and for whatever might be ahead.

  “See? We don’t even have that long to wait.”

  Ashton bent down next to Karina’s ear. “Mom, help is coming, okay? Just hang in there. I’m right here.” She stroked her mother’s hair and continued to whisper words of encouragement. The move tugged at Brooklyn’s heart with unexpected force.

  When the paramedics arrived they collected as much information from Ashton as they could, but she didn’t have a ton of details to offer. She’d heard her mother throwing up early that morning, and she was aware of her drinking heavily the night before, though she wasn’t sure how to articulate how much.

  “I found this empty on the kitchen counter,” Jessica said as she entered the room holding up a bottle of Grey Goose.

  The paramedic turned back to Ashton. “Was there a lot in the bottle before she started?”

  Ashton nodded. “I think it was maybe half full. No, more than that.” She shrugged helplessly. “I tried to get her to stop, but it just made her mad. It always does.”

  Brooklyn delicately traced the outside of the bruise around her eye. “Hey, look at me. It’s not your fault, Ashton.”

  By this time, the other paramedics had Karina loaded and strapped into the ambulance stretcher. She was murmuring now, but her words were unintelligible as they wheeled her through the living room.

  “Can I ride with her?” Ashton asked the paramedic.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Only the parents of small children can ride in the ambulance. You can meet us at Bellevue.” He handed Brooklyn a card.

  “We’ll take a cab,” Jessica said. “Let me grab some shoes.”

  Brooklyn gave Ashton a squeeze. “Come with us next door, while I throw some clothes on.” Ashton followed them like a lost puppy, and when Brooklyn turned back to check on her, she’d grown considerably pale.

  “Ashton? Are you all right? Here,” she said, steering her to Jessica’s couch. “Let’s get you sitting down.”

  Ashton looked up at her with the most haunted look. It shot a chill straight through her. “Honey, what is it?”

  “I think that was the last time I’ll ever see my mother.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  From her seat in the waiting area of the emergency room, Jessica watched as Brooklyn, who was normally laid-back and fun, took control of the situation like she’d been through years of crisis training. It was impressive and a little shocking how she moved through what had been an incredibly difficult morning with effective calm. They’d been at the hospital for just under two hours. In that time, Brooklyn had called her friends and taken the morning off work. It was a testament to her character.

  “I understand you have a lot of patients,” she said to the nurse at the circular station, “but surely you could get us some sort of update. I’d be ever so grateful and will be filling out one of the questionnaires I see in this holder about how incredibly helpful you were, Marlene.”

  “Of course. I’ll see what the doctor knows at this point.”

  “Who are you?” Jessica murmured to her as she sat back down next to her. Ashton was washing her face in the restroom, and she and Brooklyn had a brief moment on their own.

  “Someone who wants to see this story have a happy ending. For Ashton’s sake. But I’m starting to worry, Jess. They should have updated us by now.” She ran her fingers through her hair.

  In a stroke of fantastic timing, a balding man in a white coat consulted a nurse and came their way. “Are you the family of Karina Coleman?”

  Brooklyn sent her a look as they stood.

  “I’m her next-door neighbor. We found her unconscious early this morning.”

  “Are any family members present?”

  “I’m her daughter,” Ashton said, from just behind the doctor. Her face was devoid of emotion, almost as if she were too scared to breathe. Brooklyn held out a hand and Ashton moved instantly to her side.

  Jessica wasn’t sure how or when it had happened, but the two of them had a connection she couldn’t quite name. But one thing was for certain: she was immensely grateful for Brooklyn’s presence this morning.

  “Your mother is stable. She’s suffering from alcohol poisoning. We have her on oxygen and fluids to rehydrate her body. She’d had quite a bit to drink, and what we need to do now is offer supportive care while we allow the alcohol to leave her body.”

  Ashton stared up at him. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “She should be. You did the right thing bringing her in. The nurses are with her now. You can see her shortly.” He refocused his attention on Jessica. “We’ll want Ms. Coleman to speak with a social worker before she’s released and discuss possible options for treatment. Hopefully that’s something she’ll consider.”

  “I think it needs to be,” Brooklyn said quietly.

  “And if she refuses?” Jessica asked.

  “That’s her prerogative, unfortunately.”

  Jessica sighed inwardly. �
��I understand. Thank you.”

  He nodded and studied Ashton a beat. “A nurse will be by shortly with some ice for that eye. You’ll also need to speak with the social worker when she arrives.”

  Jessica knew there was no guarantee Karina would be onboard with rehabilitation, but perhaps Ashton was the key to making sure it happened this time. She prayed the social worker would intervene, as this was the breaking point. The situation couldn’t continue the way it was. Her gaze settled on Ashton, who looked relieved that her mother would be all right.

  Jessica decided to seize the opportunity. “Ashton, let’s talk about your eye.”

  Reflexively, Ashton’s fingers fluttered to the bruise and she shook her head. “It was an accident. Not a big deal.”

  “Got it. Not a big deal. Can you tell me how it happened?”

  Her eyes moved from Brooklyn to Jessica. “We were arguing. My mom and me. I was working on a project at Leslie’s place, and when I came home she was drinking. She didn’t used to drink so much when her boyfriend was around. But they broke up and she’s been hitting it pretty hard. She promised me weeks ago she’d stop, so I was upset. When she wouldn’t listen to me, I tried to take the glass out of her hand, but she refused to let go. We struggled over it and her elbow caught me here.” She softly touched the bruise above her cheek, and her eyes brushed the ground in defeat. “She didn’t seem to care. She went into her room and slammed the door. I didn’t see her again until this morning when—” She broke off when the emotion hit. Silent tears streamed down her face.

  Brooklyn took the reins, inclining her head to meet Ashton’s eyes. “Hey, Ashton, I need you to listen to me for a minute. It’s important that you tell the social worker exactly what happened. Do you understand? This is important.”

  “It’ll get my mom in trouble. I don’t think I can—”

  “It will force her to get the help she needs,” Brooklyn said gently. “And that’s the only thing that will make things better at this point. It could have been so much worse this morning. Think about that. You have to be strong about this so there are no more mornings like today.”

  Ashton seemed to take this in but clearly struggled with a decision. She sat back in her chair, seeming desolate. “I don’t know. If she goes away somewhere, to rehab, what happens to me? My dad isn’t in my life. My grandma died last year. We don’t really have any other family. They’d put me in some kids’ home because I’m not eighteen.”

  Jessica didn’t hesitate. “You could live with me.”

  *

  Brooklyn was in catch-up mode the entire next week. She’d already fallen behind on her projects, but the time she’d spent at the hospital and getting Ashton settled at Jessica’s had taken yet another giant chunk of her scheduled productivity and tossed it out the advertising window.

  Karina had been weak when they’d gone in to see her and was noticeably affected by Ashton’s words. Perhaps that’s why she’d reluctantly agreed to the three-month rehab program the social worker had outlined for them.

  There was no way to know if she’d stay there, but it was a start all the same. Brooklyn couldn’t articulate why she was so emotionally invested in the case, but perhaps she saw shades of herself in Ashton. The way she took care of herself as a kid when she really shouldn’t have to. She also sensed a loneliness there, a fear, that she completely identified with.

  She’d been shocked when Jessica had volunteered to take Ashton in.

  But the good kind of shocked. The kind of shocked that made her realize that beneath that calm, cool exterior, Jessica Lennox had a much bigger heart than people gave her credit for.

  “Brooklyn, do you have the latest version of the copy for the Foster spot? I want to go over it, make sure we’re not missing anything.”

  Brooklyn threw a glance behind her to Mallory. “Um, yeah. It’s here somewhere.” She shuffled through the piles of papers and odds and ends and Post-its on her desk, wishing to God she were a bit more organized. “Here you go.”

  Mallory took the printed pages and headed back to her desk. “Thanks.”

  They were speaking now, but it was one hundred percent business. And it didn’t feel good. Mallory was one of her best friends on the planet, and it was her warmth and leadership that had changed Brooklyn’s life forever. She didn’t want to fight with her.

  But they were at an impasse.

  If it were Mallory in her situation, Brooklyn would go out of her way to be happy for her. To find a way. However, Mallory clearly wasn’t willing to do the same. She apparently felt betrayed, and Brooklyn didn’t really know what she could say to change her mind.

  And so they existed.

  The normally lively office, always full of banter and brainstorming sessions, was now stark and silent, reminiscent of the study section of a library. Everyone kept her head down and her eyes on her own paper.

  As the morning crawled into afternoon, the four-way tension was suffocating. When Hunter returned from her noon break, she stood in the center of the room and surveyed the scene around her. “Okay, that’s it. I just came from lunch in a world where people actually speak to one another. Smile, on occasion. Remember what that’s like? And now I’m back here, the land of bitter. I can’t live like this. I’m calling a Midnight Chocolate. Tonight at Brooklyn and Sam’s.”

  Mallory shook her head. “I don’t see how that’s going to—”

  “You don’t have to see anything,” Hunter said, topping her in volume. She had all of their attention now, because Hunter was generally laid-back and never raised her voice. Brooklyn didn’t think she knew how. This was sort of monumental. “You will wear pajamas and you will eat chocolate and we will find a way to fix this thing because it’s killing us. And killing us is not an option. Does everyone here understand?!”

  They nodded dutifully, because it was clear Hunter meant business.

  “Good. See you tonight,” she yelled. “I’ll bring brownies.” She grabbed her messenger bag, dropped her laptop inside, and headed for the loft door. “I’m going to work at Starbucks where people are supposed to ignore one another.”

  The loft door slid shut with a pronounced bang.

  *

  It was 11:47 when Brooklyn opened a bottle of red for herself and Mallory, and a bottle of white for Hunter and Samantha. It’s what she always did for Midnight Chocolate. Her appointed job. But a lack of excitement surrounded the preparation this time.

  The gap felt big and that made her nervous.

  The Midnight Chocolate felt like a Hail Mary effort at this point. That’s not to say she wasn’t onboard to try. Because she needed those guys back.

  Fifteen minutes later, they sat around the coffee table, which was covered in the requisite chocolate. Brooklyn sat on the floor, Mallory on the couch with Sam, and Hunter on the arm of the chair across from Brooklyn. It was clear who was in charge of the effort when Hunter began to speak. “We’re here to sort this thing out once and for all, and that means putting everything on the table. Mallory starts. Tell us what’s going on with you.”

  Mallory blinked and took a minute before speaking. “I don’t trust Jessica Lennox.”

  “That’s fair,” Sam added. “She’s done things that give me pause too.”

  Brooklyn suppressed an eye roll and Mallory pressed on. “But regardless of those feelings, one of you should have told me what was happening between her and Brooklyn.”

  “So what is happening?” Hunter asked.

  Brooklyn opened her mouth to answer, but Sam beat her to the punch. “She likes her.”

  “I get that,” Mallory said, reaching for her wine, loosening up a tad. “She’s a beautiful woman. She’s charismatic. You’re hot for her, and why wouldn’t you be? But at the end of the day, there are more important things in the world than sex.”

  Hunter held up a hand. “Now that might be a bit harsh. Sex is—”

  “I’m in love with her.” The words were out of Brooklyn’s mouth before she could fully think them
through, and three heads swiveled in her direction as if on a string.

  Sam was the first one to respond, her eyes wide when she did so. “Whoa. You are?”

  Brooklyn nodded. “And before you say anything, you should know that I get it. I see the strain this has put on our friendship, and I see the ramifications it could have for Savvy. But you should know I would never put those things at risk if what I felt for Jessica wasn’t real. You guys, I get that I was a relationship train wreck. A one-woman demolition crew when it came to anything substantial. So I’m the last one who saw this coming.” The words were tumbling out of her now without preamble. “I’ve never been in love before. I’ve never let myself get close enough to someone, because that’s not who I am.” She closed her eyes. “Correction, was. But I’m trying to be different. When I’m with her, I feel like I belong there, which is new and wonderful.” Tears filled her eyes as she turned to Mallory. “And I don’t want to walk away from that. Please don’t ask me to.”

  Mallory held her gaze, and Brooklyn realized Mallory had tears in her eyes now as well. “You’re really in love?” she asked weakly.

  “I am. I haven’t exactly said those words to her because it’s me we’re talking about and that’s kind of terrifying, but I hope to be able to someday. ”

  Mallory nodded slowly as if turning over the concept in her mind. “And does she love you back?”

  “I don’t know.” Except she did know. “Yes.”

  “Wow. Okay. I think that changes things a bit.” Hunter blew out a breath and took a bite of a fudge-striped cookie. “So now what?”

  All eyes were on Mallory, who studied her glass. When she raised her gaze, her green eyes were focused, calm, resolute. “We will have to set parameters. Information that you can’t share over dinner, you know? We take things a day at a time. For Brooklyn’s sake.”

  What did that mean exactly? Her heart pounded away at the prospect of Mallory’s support. “So you’re okay with me continuing to see Jessica?”