“Yes, I think she’s fine. She came to right after you left, and she’s dehydrated and in pain, but otherwise as feisty as ever.”
“That’s good news. I think the Coast Guard is on its way.”
My fellow state troopers are circulating among the crowd, making sure everyone is okay. I can’t believe this crazy thing is finally going to be over.
“Hey, you gonna put your shirt on or what?” Sonnet asks, elbowing me in my naked ribs. “Brynne’s not even here for you to impress, you know.”
I laugh. “Fine, fine.” I grab my shirt from the bench on the porch and slide it over my head. I turn to look at the bride and groom. They’ve changed back into the clothes they wore prior to donning their wedding attire, and Drew is standing with his arm around his wife, towering over her with his bulky frame. They really do make a good-looking couple.
“Are you guys okay?” I ask, searching their faces for the truth in case they try to gloss over the fact that their wedding night turned into somewhat of a harrowing experience.
Drew squeezes Sonnet to his side, and they gaze into each other’s eyes before they both erupt in laughter. Long, sustained, bright-colored laughter, so contagious I almost join in.
“Hey, it’s us,” Sonnet says with a shrug. “After everything that happened at the house last summer, this is kind of what I expected, to be honest.”
Drew is still laughing too hard to speak, but he nods. Then he finally manages, “This is so US, right? I mean, we couldn’t flip a house without an ER trip, the fire department, the police, the Department of Natural Resources…makes sense we couldn’t get married without a medevac and the Coast Guard showing up!”
“No doubt,” I agree, nodding. And really, considering, it could have been so much worse. But I have to wonder what’s going to happen to everyone’s cars if the water keeps rising. There’s another high tide coming, after all.
Before I have a chance to ponder the what-ifs too much more, we see the Coast Guard boat zooming toward us. It grows closer and closer, and all of the wedding guests are cheering when it finally arrives. I nod at the coast guardsmen as they run splashing through the water toward the folks awaiting rescue.
“Can you get everyone aboard?” my fellow officer asks. “We can take a few with us if we need to.”
“We’ve got room for ten at a time,” he answers. The sun rising golden-red in the east glimmers in his light-colored eyes.
They start loading up passengers, the children, the elderly, and the diabetic guests first, and we decide to take Drew and Sonnet with us in the DSP boat. As I climb aboard, I take one last look around the island. The still-rising water is reflecting the swaying pines and other trees, creating a beautiful sight. I still can’t believe this happened and is still happening, but Drew and Sonnet are right—weird circumstances seem to follow them around.
Right before we start the engine, Drew’s father runs out of the main building holding his gigantic cell phone in the air triumphantly. “I got a signal! I got a signal!” he shouts across the water.
Everyone pulls out their phones, and there’s a huge chorus of laughter and shrieks. “We got a signal!” comes the collective cheer.
Of course we did. Of course we get a signal right as we’re leaving. That sounds just about right.
Ben shows up only ten minutes after Chris leaves. I offer Vicki my sincerest gratitude and give her my number, telling her I’m happy to return the favor should she ever need anything at all. Her eyes lit up when I told her I’m a doctor, so I have a feeling I might hear from her.
Ben looks me up and down with his eyebrows raised. I’m wrapped in two towels. Vicki did find a pair of flip flops for me to wear, so at least I have something on my feet. Though, naturally, her feet are a lot smaller than mine, so they’re hanging off the edge. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?
“So you really swam to shore?” he questions. “Even though—”
Ben is well aware of my shark phobia. He has given me hell about it for years. Every time our family went to the beach after the incident, I would barely put my toes in the water. But it’s all good-natured ribbing. I mean, he was there when I got bitten. He remembers the blood, the panic. It was pretty traumatic for him too.
I nod to answer his question. I’m still in a state of disbelief myself—about everything: the flooding, the swim, the stuff with Chris. I mean, it’s all pure craziness, right?
“Well, let’s get you home so you can put some clothes on,” he suggests as he backs out of Vicki’s driveway.
“Wait, can we stop by your house first so I can check on Harmony?”
“Of course,” he says, turning toward me with a smile. “Maybe Jamie has something you can put on.”
Jamie is a lot smaller than me, so I doubt it, but I don’t even care at this point. I just want to see my beautiful niece and make sure she’s on the mend. As Ben makes his way down the road to his house, which isn’t far from Vicki’s at all, my mind is torn between thinking about Harmony and Chris. Everything is so muddled, and I’m so completely overwhelmed with emotion, I don’t know if I’m ready to sleep for a hundred years or ready to run a marathon.
He pulls into his garage, then we make our way up the steps to the back door. I find Jamie and Harmony in the kitchen with Harmony in the highchair stabbing at some slices of banana with a plastic fork. Jamie’s head whips toward me, and her eyes bulge out. “Oh my god, girl, what are you wearing?”
“Uh…towels?” I answer sheepishly.
“Aun Bin!” Harmony exclaims when she notices me. She throws up her chubby little hands and begins to wriggle in her chair, wanting to be let down. I can tell by looking at her that she’s been ill. Her little eyes are a bit sunken, and her usually glowing skin looks a little dull.
“She’s still dehydrated.” I move a little closer and pull down her eyelids to examine her. “Still keeping everything down?”
“Yeah, she hasn’t vomited since midnight, but it’s coming out the other end now,” Jamie explains, frowning.
“I want her on an IV.” I complete a few more observations, shaking my head. I can’t believe I wasn’t here last night when I was needed.
“Are you sure?” My sister-in-law’s features are tense with worry.
I nod. “I’m not taking any chances with my girl.” I give Harmony a pat on her springy curls, and she smiles at me weakly. She definitely looks lethargic, her eyes not as bright as usual.
Ben joins us and raises his brows yet again at my lack of attire. “Did Jamie get you something to wear?”
“Yeah, where are your clothes?” Jamie questions.
“Long story,” I answer her, then turn to my brother. “We’re taking Harmony to the ER.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. I’m sure. She probably could have gone last night. I feel horrible I wasn’t here for her.”
“Brynne,” Ben says, grabbing my arm. “You’re a hero. You saved lives for sure. Please don’t feel bad, okay?”
I shrug as Jamie returns carrying a stack of clothes. “Maybe something here will work?”
I grab a pair of yoga pants and shimmy them up my thighs. They’re tight, but stretchy. They look more like capri pants on me than full-length because Jamie is only 5’2”, but hey, I’ll take it. I throw a sweatshirt over my head to complete the look, then follow them back out to the garage with Harmony in tow.
We get Harmony settled in the ER, and she finally falls asleep. I fortunately have some scrubs in my locker, so I throw them on then decide to call and check on Mrs. Wilson’s condition. That’s when I realize I still don’t have my phone. I left it at the camp, charging in my brother’s office. Well, charging if power was ever restored. Shit.
I don’t know if Drew and Sonnet made their flight. I don’t have Chris’s number, so I can’t check on him. I’m in this crazy information vacuum, cut off from the reality I just survived, and my body is finally starting to come down from the adrenaline high I’ve been running on ever since I plu
nged into that frigid water and swam to shore.
I’ve been so busy trying to take care of everyone else, I haven’t had a chance to think about what happened with Chris. It’s all such a crazy mess of emotion and misgivings, I can’t deal with unjumbling it at the moment. My muddled brain is begging me to lie down, to give both it and my haggard body a rest. As soon as I stop moving, I’m going to crash big time.
I feel like I’m on the clock as I make my rounds, chatting it up with my colleague Bryan in the ER who’s taking care of Harmony and telling all the nurses about our harrowing weekend. I also touch base with the doctor taking care of Mrs. Wilson in Baltimore. Once I’m assured everyone is going to be okay, I finally ask Ben to drive me home. I wasn’t planning to get the bike out this early in the season—I usually wait until Memorial Day—but without my car, I don’t have much of a choice. At least I’ll have transportation.
I climb into bed at two o’clock, hours after my swim, hours after getting Harmony checked in. I don’t have my phone, so there’s no way for me to check to see what happened with the rescue efforts. I know I should sleep, but my mind is churning on overdrive. I can’t get Chris’s face out of my head or his voice out of my ears. I keep replaying moments of the last twenty-four hours over and over again until it nearly drives me crazy.
I do a search for local news on my laptop. It’s Sunday, so I don’t know if anything is going to be reported. I search “Coast Guard rescue Fenwick Island,” but nothing comes up. Fine, I surrender. I lay my head against the pillow, and it’s only seconds before sleep claims me.
When I finally make it home that afternoon, I’m beyond drained. I can’t believe I have to get up at 5 AM for work. Part of me feels like I could sleep 48 hours straight, while the other part of me knows my brain is going to fight sleep with a vengeance. I’m still trying to process everything that’s happened. I look over at my nightstand, where I’ve laid Brynne’s phone. Before I took off again in the DSP boat, I went into the cabin to see if her phone was still there. I grabbed the bag I thought was hers along with the phone. Who knows how long it will be before we can go back and get our cars? The Coast Guard guys thought it could be two or three days before the water levels return to normal.
Not that I had Brynne’s number anyway, but it makes me sad that I can’t contact her. It’s amazing how fast you can bond with someone when you’re in a crisis situation. We spent several hours straight together, and she even fell asleep in my arms. We danced. We kissed. We risked our lives swimming to shore—and that thing about the shark attack? Holy cow, that only makes me respect her more.
I did get a text from Drew earlier. It was a group text, and I also heard it buzz on Brynne’s phone. They just barely managed to make their flight to New York. From there, they’ll fly across the Atlantic to Berlin, then to Greece. I am so glad they didn’t have to sacrifice their honeymoon for all the craziness that went down last night.
I close my eyes, willing my brain to turn off. My body is already there. I practically feel numb. But my brain is still going strong, damn it. I lie still for about two minutes before I feel like my organs are trying to pop out of my skin. I sigh, climb out of bed and make my way over to the desk in my office where I have all the drawings for my latest book spread out.
I pick them all up and put them in a stack. My motivation to work on that project has waned. No, I have a better idea, something more urgent that needs to come out of me. I grab my pencil and begin a simple sketch in one of my pads. It’s a dolphin—a dolphin with a scar on its dorsal fin from a shark attack—but who rescues people from a sinking cruise ship. She risks swimming through known shark-infested waters to swim the humans to safety. Yep, it’s perfect.
Twenty-Two
It’s hard to get back into a routine after something like what happened this weekend. Yesterday morning when I woke up, I had a fleeting moment where I wondered if I dreamed the whole thing. Then I realized my phone is still in Ben’s office. Not only that, but the media has had a field day covering the rescue operation, and they’ve been highlighting a certain State Trooper and ER doctor who kept everyone calm through the night and then made a swim for it across the bay to get help. The picture they’re using of me is the one from my hospital personnel file, and the one of Chris is his official DSP photo.
On Friday, the town of Fenwick Island is having a special celebration for Chris and me. I’m a little mortified that they’re going to such trouble to reward us for essentially doing our jobs, but apparently everyone’s pretty stoked about it. And both the hospital and the state police seem to be reveling in the boost to their public image.
Drew and Sonnet did make it to their honeymoon destination. I saw some pictures posted on Facebook, which I managed to check on one of the work computers. I still feel lost and isolated without my phone, though. I am thinking of riding my bike out to the camp tonight after work to see if I can get it.
Harmony was released about twelve hours after she arrived, all pumped up on fluids and already looking much perkier. Mrs. Wilson is still recovering from surgery on her hip and tibia, but she should be released in a few days. I think Sonnet’s parents are mad they missed their flight back to Florida to deal with Mrs. Jayne’s mom, but there’s not much I can do about that. I think they’re lucky she’s alive. Maybe this whole experience will give her a new attitude?
It’s feeling very Tuesdayish around the ER, you know, like Monday’s slightly less obnoxious little sister. It’s mostly routine stuff, and there’s not nearly enough coffee to keep everyone going. I would be working through the night, but I’ve been given a twelve-hour reprieve before returning in the morning. Yesterday I could barely walk down the hall without someone slapping me on the back and telling me how brave and heroic I am, but today it’s like I’m back to just plain Brynne Miller, M.D.
I’m coming around the corner from the lounge with a full cup of coffee when I very nearly run into a tall, broad uniformed presence. My body reacts to his scent and the mesmerizing hazel eyes before I can even register that it’s none other than Trooper Asshat.
Damn it, the uniform just makes me want to call him that. I can’t seem to help myself.
“Chris,” I manage to stammer out.
His lips spread into a huge smile as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. Oh, wait, it’s my phone.
“Oh my god, thank you so much! I’ve been missing this!” I exclaim, throwing my arms around his neck for a hug. Then I remember where the hell I am, my gaze darting all around the hall for other pairs of eyes on us. I don’t see anyone.
I pull back and take a look at him again. There’s an electricity crackling between us, but I don’t know what it means. I can’t quite read the look in his eyes. I don’t even look at my phone, I just stuff it in my pocket. “I assume everything went well when you guys arrived to pick everyone up?”
He nods. “Yeah, it was fine. Took a few trips to get everyone, but we managed. How’s your niece?”
“She’s great, thanks. She spent some time here Sunday on an IV, but she’s doing a lot better now.”
“Good to hear. So this thing they’re doing for us on Friday—”
“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy, isn’t it?” He gives a little shrug, and his eyes shift away before locking back on mine.
Something about this doesn’t feel right—stuck in this hallway, the fluorescent lights glaring down on us, the sounds of squeaking nurse’s shoes in the background. Him in his uniform, me in my white coat. It just feels wrong. Tense. Where did the Brynne and Chris from the weekend go? The Maid of Honor Brynne and Best Man Chris?
“Yeah. I was scheduled to work the desk that morning, but my Captain was like, uh, no, you’re going to show up in uniform down in Fenwick and do us all proud.”
“Wow, no pressure, huh?” I tease him, wishing whatever is between us didn’t feel so stilted.
His radio goes off, and he holds one finger up as he responds, mumbling something I can’t even understand. I don’t know
how they understand a damn thing on those radios.
“Well, I gotta go.” He sounds disappointed, but there’s still a smile on his face.
“Oh, okay.” Why does this conversation feel like the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had in my life?
“I was gonna put my number in your phone, but I didn’t know the passcode,” he says with a shrug.
“Oh, right. I can add it real quick if you have time,” I suggest. I mean, right? I should have his number after what we went through together. Why does this feel so weird? I feel like I’m in junior high, hoping a boy will ask me to the Christmas dance or something.
“Sure.” He rattles it off quickly as I type it in my phone. I’m half-tempted to put Trooper Asshat for the name, but I manage to type in Chris Everson instead.
“So I guess I’ll see you Friday?” I mean, is he going to ask me out or what?
I’ll be honest, I want him to. But I don’t. It’s pretty unbelievable, the level of ambivalence I’m experiencing at the moment. I want Wedding Chris back. This is…Trooper Chris. And it’s…it’s just reminding me why I didn’t want to date him in the first place. I’m tired of being the Badge Bunny. It never works out: the schedule, the ego, the everything. It’s doomed to failure. I don’t care how amazing his lips felt on mine when we were stranded. We’re back in our roles, and the spell is broken.
And besides, how cliché is it for the Best Man and the Maid of Honor to walk off into the sunset together, anyway?
That’s the ultimate cliché. And I don’t do cliché.
I’m a Harley-riding, metal-loving redheaded ER doctor who loves swimming laps but won’t swim in the ocean. I am pretty sure I am the polar opposite of a cliché.
“Yeah, guess I’ll see you around,” he finally says, his eyes boring into mine like he wanted to say something else, but his lips had a totally different agenda.
Badge Bunny Page 21
