by Kat Bammer
Peter chuckled while he kept in stride with her. “Let me take that.”
Lisa turned away when he offered to take her bag. “No, thanks.”
“You know, I’m just doing this for my mom. I promised her to get you to the hospital. No strings attached.”
Lisa stopped and looked at him. He still had the warmest brown eyes she had ever come across in a man. Soft and open and inviting, with golden flecks to add a spark and a bit of mischief. The deep laugh lines next to his eyes were new, evidence of the years that had passed. As was the stubble. It made him look rugged, when in her mind he still was the clean-shaven young boy she knew back then. There was a sadness in his eyes she didn’t remember. What had he seen? What stories could he tell? But no. Lisa shook her head slightly. She remembered the self-doubt. The hollowness she felt when he pretended afterward like nothing had happened. Their time together had been a terrible mistake. One she didn’t want to remember, even thirteen years later.
Lisa looked away and without a word, passed him through the door.
Outside the airport, a gust of wind made her shiver. It was early May, and the temperature was in the lower sixties. But coming from the tropical climate of Tahiti, the crisp, dry wind was a shock to her system. The long, long hours she’d been awake didn’t help either.
She looked down at her bag, which she still clung to, close to her body. Somewhere in there would be her jacket.
If she couldn’t still feel Peter, watching her through the glass doors, she might stop and get it out.
But instead she sucked in a deep breath, and clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, and hurried to the row of cabs parked there. Opening the door was a juggling act, with her bag still in her clutches, but finally she managed and threw herself into the back seat of the first cab in line.
“Where to, lady?” The driver turned around and looked at her. She encountered dull, gray, but strangely piercing eyes, that looked at her expectantly.
“The hospital, please,” Lisa replied, shoved her bag to the side, and opened it to search for her jacket.
As the cab rolled away from the curb, she looked up. Peter stood right next to the cab, his face pinched and his posture stiff, oozing disapproval.
Lisa wanted to look away, just wanted to leave this situation behind. Have time to recoup. Before seeing him again.
Their eyes met through the windowpane, and the frown on Peter’s face deepened while he drew up his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets.
He looked defeated and pissed and somehow incredulous. Mirroring just her feelings. Take this, Mr. Asshole.
Lisa forced herself to look away from the gorgeous man and sank deeper into the back seat. She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes for a second, but the encounter replayed in her mind. Must be jet lag and stress stealing her ability to stay cool and distanced. No way was she thinking about their time together, even though the memories had returned in technicolor, since the first whiff of his scent.
He looked older, harder, and a lot bulkier than at nineteen. Laugh lines lined his face but there was also something dark in his eyes. Oh, she remembered his eyes so well. She remembered them when they were dull with pain and later like burning ember.
Lisa swallowed around the painful lump in her throat. She felt as defeated as he had looked. Ambushed by the cacophony of hurt and longing, embarrassment and lust that flooded her. Would she see him again, in the short time she would visit Moon Lake? Not if she could help it. She would avoid him, and Lisa had no intentions of a run-in with law enforcement while back home.
Thinking about home led to thinking about her last visit. Five long years ago. That’s when she’d last seen her dad in person. They’d established weekly Skype calls, but whenever she urged him to come visit her, he had excuses. The Inn being the main one. Guests year round. In summer, families, hikers and mountain bikers enjoyed their stay in the small town of Moon Lake. In winter there was downhill skiing, cross-country ski trails all over the place, and hockey and ice skating when the lake froze. Spring and fall were the hunting seasons and fishing was a sport year round. But those were excuses. Lisa wasn’t sure, but she suspected her father’d been afraid of flying. At least, he never once went anywhere where he couldn’t drive.
Lisa pulled out her phone. She read Karen’s text again. No news wasn’t bad news. But she would soon see for herself.
“Where are you from?” the cab driver asked her. He studied her through the rearview mirror which made Lisa oddly uncomfortable.
She shuffled her feet. She didn’t have the energy for small talk. But neither had she the energy to be uncivil, so she answered his question. “Tahiti.”
She looked out the window to avoid the cab driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. The scenery of Whitebrook rushed by. The town had changed a lot in the last years. New buildings and shops had popped up all over the place. It didn’t resemble home at all.
“What did you do in Tahiti? I’ve never been anywhere but here. How is it? Hot? How’s the beach and the ocean? You sure would look great in a bikini.”
Lisa’s right foot which had been tapping went suddenly still. This man creeped her out.
Obviously, the guy in front didn’t understand subtlety. She ignored the questions and turned from the window to her bag where she immersed herself in getting her clothes sorted. She strapped the belt, which came as part of her jacket, around the bag to hold it all together.
“Who’re you visiting in the hospital?”
Lisa glared at the driver. “Look, I’m not in the mood for small talk,” she snapped. “Can you please just drive and not talk or stare at me?”
There was a moment of stunned silence in the car. The cab driver’s eyes changed, and his face distorted into a sneer.
Lisa’s ears grew hot, and heat creeped up over her neck too while she frantically searched for words. “Look, I’m sorry,” Lisa said after a heavy sigh. “I’m just a little anxious. It’s my father, who’s in the hospital; he had an accident and I came home as fast as I could. I’m just exhausted and my head is killing me…and…I’m sorry.”
The rest of the drive passed in silence. The cab driver in front didn’t react to her apology at all. He didn’t look in the rearview mirror again and announced her fare very businesslike when they arrived at the hospital. Lisa paid and gave a hefty tip before she scrambled to get her bag sorted and didn’t look back on her hasty way from the cab to the hospital entry.
4
Lisa stood still after entering the hospital through the revolving door. The smell of antiseptic made her dizzy and the bright, harsh electrical light made sparkly dots flit across her already itchy eyes. On their last call, Karen had told her they were in the waiting room on the third floor, just next to the ICU. She looked at the colored stripes on the floor that started right before her in the lobby and led in various directions. She would just need to follow one of these stripes. But somehow she couldn’t. She rocked slightly back and forth but her feet didn’t want to move. She clutched her throat and took deep breaths. Whatever was waiting for her up there, she couldn’t even fathom. Two nurses passed her and looked her up and down before they resumed their chat.
A sheen of sweat formed on her forehead and her breathing became labored. She wasn’t ready. Her gaze darted around the lobby until it landed on a restroom door and she rushed there, nearly taking a dive when her bag impeded her feet.
What if he was already dead? What if she was too late? How would her mother be? Would she hold up okay, or would she be in tears? Affectionate or as distanced and in control as she had been when Lisa left? Surely this time, with her dad’s life on the line, and after all those years and distance, her mother would at least be a little happy to see her.
Lisa washed her hands and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked awful, with dark circles under her eyes, and somehow gaunt. She shrugged her shoulders. She looked precisely the way she felt. She put on some perfume and lip gloss, not because she want
ed to look anything better than awful, but maybe Mom would appreciate the effort. She remembered the day she left at eighteen. They’d barely said goodbye. Her mom didn’t “do” emotions. Hadn’t even taken the time to see her off at the airport. Lisa fixed her ponytail, straightened her spine, and put away her lip gloss. She gave herself a stern look in the mirror and nodded at herself. She was ready. Well, as ready as she would ever be. She left the bathroom, followed the red line, and entered the elevator. She exited at the third floor and turned down the hallway just to encounter another corridor.
Lisa focused on the repetitive pattern of the floor. The beige walls kept closing in on her, and she swallowed down the sour taste in her mouth. She stopped at the end, turned, and peeked into the waiting room. Her mom and sister sat next to each other on uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs. Her mother was looking out the window and her sister was reading in some magazine. Lisa smiled. Her little niece played Legos in one corner, but looked up and noticed her presence immediately.
“Aunt Lizzy,” Mathilda screamed, toys forgotten, and surged toward her.
Lisa put down her bag, caught Mattie in midair, and picked her up. She pressed the little angel to her chest and inhaled deeply. Wow, how much Mattie had grown in the last two years. She sighed. She wished she didn’t live so far away. She’d missed so many significant events in her niece’s life. Skype just wasn’t the same. Two years ago, Mattie, Karen, Julius, Karen’s husband, and Lisa had taken a vacation together in Tahiti—two weeks of really getting to know her niece, falling in love with the little angel, and reconnecting and mending the strained relationship with her sister. The stress of a mother, who always criticized one or the other, who compared them and played favorite, had left their relationship strained. They’d lost contact after Lisa left.
But now they were both grown up. Her sister’s life was flourishing with a fantastic job, a good man, and an adorable little girl. And after reconnecting they became friends again.
“You finally made it,” Lisa’s mother said. “Took you long enough. Your father could be dead by now, but it would be all the same to you, wouldn’t it?”
Lisa gasped and her muscles turned rigid. Holy fuck. A searing pain speared through her chest and the harsh words from her mother left her speechless. Did her own mother really think so little of her? Nausea climbed from the depth of her body into her throat and her eyes stung. Every single confrontation with her mother, during her teenage years, had triggered the same emotional and physical reaction. Those words and those fights had always created the same sick feeling in her stomach she felt right now.
Lisa swallowed and fought hard not to defend herself. All of this must have her mother reeling with frustration and fear.
“Hi, Mom, hi, Karen. I took the first flight out, but it took forever…”
One look into her mother’s face made Lisa stop. Her mother had never been interested in, what she once referred to as some ‘lame excuse.’ Logical explanations didn’t change her mother’s mind, never had, never would. Lisa lifted her chin and gave her mother a small, impersonal peck on the cheek before she turned toward Karen.
Karen mirrored Lisa’s smile, stood up, and hugged her.
“Hi, Lizzy. I’m glad you’re here. Did you get here okay?” Lisa and Karen exchanged a short look full of indignation and a dramatic eye roll over their mother.
“Yes, took a cab,” she answered, “ran into a little trouble at the airport, but nothing serious.” The picture of Peter Fisher flashed before her inner eyes. She could still feel the heat of his body against her back. He’d called her Lizzy. Said they knew each other. What a load of bullshit.
“How’s Dad?” Lisa asked and shook her head to get the thoughts about Peter out of her head. Focus, Lisa. There are much more important tasks on hand.
Karen winced. “We know nothing new since we talked on the phone; he’s still in a bad state with no improvement. They had to do some kind of surgery during the night. Something to do with the pressure in his head after the accident. Mom was allowed in there with him for a short period, but he wasn’t conscious.”
“There will be a doctor in soon; he will tell us everything about your father,” her mother added.
Karen pinched her lips together before she spoke through her clenched teeth. “We’ve been waiting for said doctor for over two hours now.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at Mathilda, who was back in the corner, playing with some colored, wooden toy blocks. Her frustration was contrasted by Lisa’s mother’s calm demeanor. The only thing that didn’t fit the picture was the raised eyebrow and the scrutinizing look when her mother’s eyes focused on Lisa.
“Maybe you should freshen up a little. You wouldn’t want to let the doctor think you’re sloppy, do you?”
Lisa stopped breathing but didn’t take her eyes from Maddie or react in any way. Her mother was a pro at hidden insults. Perfected the art a long time ago. Nothing had changed. Even in times like these. Lisa watched her mother from the corner of her eyes. Her mother’s outfit was as pristine as ever. She wore designer jeans and a fancy off-white blouse. Nobody would ever see Josephine Reynold disheveled, not even when her husband had had an accident and she was sitting in a waiting room for hours on end.
“She looks okay, Mom, just tired.” Karen put a loose strand of Lisa’s hair behind her ear and smiled. Deflection was what Karen excelled at. She wasn’t much for fighting, even back then she’d always tried to keep the peace. Not an easy feat.
Scenes of shouting matches echoed in Lisa’s mind. But she straightened her spine. She wouldn’t let the old feelings creep up again. She wasn’t a child anymore. She’d lived her life the past thirteen years on her own terms as a responsible adult. But the old feelings of desperation crept up anyway and an overwhelming helplessness surrounded her. She didn’t know how to please her mother, or even just make her be okay with who she was. The urge to just turn around and leave was strong, and Lisa looked longingly toward the exit. Then her eyes connected with the pleading eyes of Karen, who, with only a look, gave her the strength to ignore their mother’s comment and stay.
She sighed and sat down on the chair next to Karen. She would just ignore everything her mother said. She wasn’t here for her, anyway. It was for her dad and she would stay until she knew he was out of the woods. But the minute he was better, she would hightail it out of there. No looking back.
5
With a click, another minute passed on the ancient digital clock that hung on the wall of the waiting room just outside the ICU.
Lisa shifted in her chair to ease the tingly sensation from her butt downward. Thanks to her mother’s snide remark about her tapping feet, now she couldn’t feel them at all. Just great.
She watched her sister and niece. They sat huddled together in the kid’s corner. Mattie’s eyes were half-closed, absorbed in some fairy-tale land until Karen came to the end, then Mattie snapped open her eyes and shut the book. A noise that jarred Lisa’s mother out of her doze.
Lisa stood up and shook out her feet before she stomped to the kid’s corner. “Hey, Mattie, wanna play something?”
“Yes, yes, let’s play Uno. Mommy, in your purse, Mommy, please.”
Lisa chuckled. With this kind of enthusiasm for a simple game of cards, the little kid was likely bored out of her mind.
No wonder… Lisa was too. She glanced up at the wall clock. An hour and still no sign of a doctor.
Lisa settled onto the floor and soon Karen dealt the cards. Mathilda was a fierce player, sneaky and surprisingly fast for her age and she kept Karen and Lisa on their toes.
Their mother didn’t take part and not once moved off her uncomfortable chair. Her mother’s phone rang and when she took the call and complained about the lack of information they’d gotten, Karen and Lisa exchanged a surprised look. So not typical for their mother.
Other than that, nothing had changed.
After they finished their third round of Uno, Lisa sat back down n
ext to her mother. Ten minutes later, she got antsy and moved around but stopped after a dirty look from her mother. The muscles in her body tensed up, and the headache from earlier came back in full force.
Then she catapulted herself out of her chair. “I’m going for a walk.”
There must be someone in this crappy hospital ready to talk to them. How long had they already waited? Hours. She would find someone to give them some info.
With renewed determination she turned toward the ICU.
The entrance was closed up, and cave-like. She peeked through the darkened glass pane—nothing.
Were they even at the right place? It looked abandoned.
A ping farther down the corridor caught Lisa’s attention. The doors of the elevator slid open and two nurses wheeled out a patient on a bed. The patient was a young woman whose scalp was wrapped in gauze. A tube sprouted out of her head and transparent surgical tape covered her eyes. A brace encased her neck, and her bandaged left arm and foot peeked out from the green blanket that covered the rest of her body. The nurses marched to the door of the ICU, their lips clamped together, and their focus solely fixed on their patient.
Lisa’s lungs constricted and her hand flew to her chest. She looked away, but somehow the image of the poor woman burned itself into her brain. Coldness washed over her. Did this happen with her father? Was he like this when they wheeled him into the ICU nearly three days ago?
The automatic doors of the ICU closed behind the nurses, but Lisa was rooted to the spot.
Apparently, the staff had more important tasks than to bother about them waiting. A while later Lisa turned and trotted back to the waiting room, her thoughts revolving around the poor woman, hoping she would make it.
