Things You Save in a Fire - Katherine Center Page 0,101
was here, and the clock was ticking.
“It’s me,” I said. “They won’t let me in to see you. DeStasio filed a false report, and now everybody thinks I’m the reason you’re in here. Looks like I’m going to lose my job. But I don’t care about any of it. The only thing I care about is you pulling through.” I stepped a little closer, still holding his hand but reaching out to stroke his forehead, too. “You’re really something special, rookie. The world needs you. I know you’re fighting. Keep fighting. Don’t give up.”
I leaned down and kissed his forehead.
“They only gave me five minutes—and I’m not allowed to come back. But just know that my whole heart is with you. Apparently, I need a medically induced coma to spark enough courage to say it, but—” I took a shaky breath. “I love you. I told the captain, and the whole crew, and the entire waiting room. So now, everybody knows but you. That’s why you’ve got to get better—so I can tell you for real.”
* * *
AFTER THAT, I stayed away.
I kept my phone on me at all times, waiting for texts from the captain. He was group-texting the whole crew with any information that he got, but after my enormous and dramatic confession in the waiting room, I kept thinking I’d receive something a little more personal.
I didn’t.
Not the first day. Or the second. Or the third.
I only got the basic updates sent to the group: His parents were keeping vigil in the ICU. His mother hadn’t changed clothes in days. His health was touch and go, and there were moments of encouragement and moments of worry. The collapsed lung and facial burns were improving, but the real concern was the damage to his trachea.
I wondered if ex-girlfriend Amy was still lurking around, abusing her mistaken status as “family.” But the captain didn’t mention her.
I didn’t hear much from the guys. Let’s just say heartache wasn’t exactly their area.
Those first days back home, banished from the hospital, melted into a blur of sleeplessness. And worry. And anger.
And utter, agonized dismay at the rubble around me.
I wanted to shut myself up in my room and lock the door and stop eating and curl up on the bed in a fetal position.
I wanted to—but to my credit, I didn’t. When Diana came in to sit by me, I didn’t send her away. When Josie showed up with a homemade smoothie, I took a few sips. I’d tried coping in isolation before, and I knew firsthand that it didn’t work.
I felt desperate, restless, lost. I needed to help, but there was nothing to do. I needed to move, but there was nowhere to go. I was more exhausted than I’ve ever been, but I couldn’t rest.
When Diana and Josie had crochet club, I made myself go sit near them.
They wanted to get to the bottom of what had happened at the fire. They wanted to figure out why a seasoned guy like DeStasio would have put us all in danger like that—and why he would lie about it afterward. They pieced clues together and analyzed details and floated theories. I participated, but in a strange, detached way—talking, and answering questions, and providing clues, but only halfheartedly, as if I were in shock. It all mattered, I supposed, but nothing really mattered until I knew Owen was okay.
Still, we now had a pretty good theory on who my stalker had been. I just didn’t exactly have the energy to care.
It was all I could do to stay away from the hospital.
* * *
A WEEK WENT by.
I stayed home. I updated my charts on Owen’s health. I waited for texts. I slept late and stayed up late, worrying too hard to fall asleep.
Then, on Friday, my mom had a doctor’s appointment. A checkup.
And she insisted she needed me to go with her.
“I can’t,” I said, shaking my head.
“You can,” she said. “And you will.”
I hadn’t showered in a week. “I’m useless.”
“Look,” she said, “if you don’t drive me, I’m not going.”
Well played.
I drove her. It was time for Diana to get a scan to see how she was doing, and Diana resented it like hell. “There’s no point,” she said in the waiting room.
“We have to know your status,” I said. “We need to know what’s going on.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why do we need to know that?”
Why did anybody need to know anything? “Because we do.”