Maureen reached out and gripped my scarred hand in reply. I lay there, mesmerized, as she threaded our fingers together in what I was beginning to think of as her signature move.
Rosalyn had always been careful not to grab my injured hand. I assumed my former fiancée thought she was being sensitive, like the way you didn’t point out someone’s receding hairline or a big mole on their face. She never seemed to realize that being polite was for the rest of the world. When you love someone, it’s a different assignment. The person with the receding hairline or the mole—they wanted to know the person they loved saw the supposed flaw—saw it and loved them anyway. With Rosalyn, for two years, I never knew.
In the span of only a few days, I felt completely reassured Maureen didn’t care about my missing fingers. My scars. The sensation of her wrapping her warm palm around the reminders of the worst day of my life was the affirmation I’d needed for eleven years.
When I woke up the third time, James sat on a folding chair by my bedside. His large frame took up all the space in the tiny room. He had one leg crossed crookedly over the other, and his bearded face stared down at a crossword puzzle book in his lap, lit by a small penlight in the darkness.
He noticed me stir. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah.” My voice shook, but I felt a lot less dizzy compared to a few hours ago.
“Good thing. I was about to wake you since it’s been a while since the last time. Are you feeling better?”
“Headache is a bitch, but my thoughts are clearer.” Words were coming easier. Thank god for that. The last time, it had taken months for full cognition to return.
I figured it must be the middle of the night, judging by the pitch-black outside.
James’s next words confirmed it. “I pulled the night shift with you, bud. I wanted to. Because I’m so wired. I got to go out on a fire call tonight. Did I mention I volunteer with the department? It was mostly over by the time our truck got there, but I still came home totally amped. I knew I’d never sleep, so I sent the ladies to bed. I don’t think Maureen ever went to sleep last night. Except now that you’re up and don’t need to be woken again until six, I might try to catch a few Zzz’s.”
James’s babbling sounded like music to my ears. I loved this guy so much. I wished we hadn’t missed out on a decade of knowing one another. And it might have been the lingering drugs in my system, but my next thought waswhy not tell him?
“James, I’m glad you’re here. Glad…we’re friends.”
He froze momentarily before smiling. “Me too.” But then, he pinched his chin and added, “Although I figure maybe I haven’t been as good of a friend to you as I ought to have been.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve been a…great friend.”
“I dunno. When we met again after such a long time, at the reunion, I was so impressed with the way you took down our old bullies. And you’re always so relaxed and cool, quick with the commentary. I guess I just assumed everything with you was good. Easy.” He blew out a deep breath, and I turned my head to see him better. His eyes were teary. “All night I kept thinking about how we haven’t talked much about what happened with you after high school. I know you said you had an accident—and that’s why you have a bum hand—but I don’t know the details. And I never asked more questions because I figured you just seem so collected. Like maybe there’s nothing to know. And why pick at scabs? But I should have. All the stuff the doctor said—I didn’t know any of it. This whole year, we’ve been talking and texting constantly. Except I’ve been focused on myself. First at the reunion. Then Marley. The engagement. But maybe I should have asked.” He paused again, longer this time. “So, I’m asking now. Will, my friend, are you okay?”
Feeling tears in my own eyes, I gathered my breath. I knew the words would be tough, and it felt important to get them right. “James, you are the…best friend I could have hoped for. There were…bad things after high school. Not all, but some. But I’m good now. I promise. This past year has been the best yet.” I thought of my apartment building. Being part of James’s wedding. Maureen. “Everything keeps…getting better.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
“Don’t…thank me yet. ’Cuz I’m gonna need you to help me pee.”
He laughed and reached out to assist me. It was slow going, but I managed to hook my legs over the side of the bed and stand without falling, being careful of my bruised hip, even though the room spun immediately. James walked me to the hall bathroom and sat me down on the toilet, stepping out while I did my business. When he brought me back to bed, I leaned back and realized the gold velveteen pillows were familiar.
Understanding dawned. “You brought my things?” I asked.
“Oh, um, yeah. I hope you don’t mind. We found the key card to your hotel room, and Marley went over to grab your stuff since you’re due to check out tomorrow anyway. She said to tell you thanks for being neat and tidy, which made her job easy. Maureen said to tell you it’s super high-maintenance to bring your own pillows to a hotel, and she reserves the right to make fun of you about it until the day you die.”
I snorted. “I can live with that.”
“I’ll bet,” James said, eyeing me carefully. “You wanna tell me what’s going on there? Because my fiancée is going to get it out of her sister soon.”
“Not yet, okay? Not until I talk to Maureen.”
“Understood.” James gathered up his puzzle book. “I’m gonna go lie down for a few. I have six classes to teach tomorrow, and I should get a nap if I can. Glad you’re feeling better.” He backed out of the room.
I fell asleep on my high-maintenance pillows, knowing I’d feel like hell tomorrow, but I smiled because Maureen would be the one staying with me.
Chapter eighteen
Maureen
Leo and Miranda left Monday morning to head back to Seattle. Leo needed to get home for work, and Miranda wanted to spend some time with friends during her winter break. They’d both be back in Coleman Creek by Christmas Eve, along with James’s parents. As they gathered their things and drove off in Leo’s gigantic work truck, they appeared to be in some sort of silent standoff. I didn’t know what was going on with my youngest sister, but since she was an adult, I decided not to worry about it.
With Marley and James busy molding young minds at Coleman Creek High, I took on Will duty. He’d likely sleep most of the day. Not as much as yesterday, but a lot. It had been scaryhow much he’d slept and how out of it he’d been when he was awake, but James said he’d seemed more like himself when they spoke during the night.
