Torin (Hope City #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,28
the EMTs to come, knowing what they were facing when they arrived.
Erin sat, her hand on Mr. Tanika’s, surprised when a sob erupted from her lips. Pressing the fingers of her other hand against her mouth, she breathed deeply for a moment. His face was relaxed; the struggle was over. She glanced to the nightstand where a picture of Mr. Tanika and his wife sat and was filled with the hope that they were now together. Patting his hand one last time, she stood, and with a deep cleansing breath, swiped her fingers under her eyes and began the simple tasks of moving their chairs away from the bed, knowing the emergency personnel would need room to remove the body.
Within ten minutes, she heard Rosetta open the door and speak to whoever entered. “It was to be expected,” Rosetta said. “Mr. Tanika’s family called hospice in, but he’s had a home visiting nurse checking in on him for the last month. She was here when he passed, along with myself. There’s not a lot of room in there, so I’ll stay out here.”
She turned, shocked to see Rory walking into the room. From the expression on his face, he was just as surprised.
“Erin?”
Her gaze darted between her brother and the woman with him. “I had no idea you’d be the one coming.”
“It never dawned on me you’d be here, either.”
She shrugged. “It’s a good job to have while I finish getting my RN degree. I checked in on him to make sure he was getting his medication and had eaten. I called his son who lives in California last week, and he made the call to bring in hospice.”
Rory inclined his head toward the woman next to him, also in a paramedic uniform. “I’d like you to meet my partner, Shania. This is my twin, Erin.”
They shook hands, and Shania smiled. “I’m sorry we have to meet like this, but it’s wonderful to meet another one of Rory’s siblings.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.”
She stepped back as one of the other EMTs entered and watched as they carefully placed Mr. Tanika into a body bag and then onto a stretcher. He was rolled out by the others, and Rory turned to her. He bent slightly, making sure to hold her gaze. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“The hospice nurse and I’ll stay here to make sure the apartment is secure and the manager puts a lock on the door. Mr. Tanika’s son is flying in today.”
He leaned closer, concern etched on his face. “Erin, I didn’t ask what you were going to be doing. I asked if you were going to be okay.”
She hesitated for a moment, so many thoughts crowding her mind. But now was not the time, knowing Rory needed to get to the hospital. She nodded and reached out to take his hand. “Yes, Rory, I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen death, you know.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll talk to you later. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
She jerked her head toward the door. “You’ve got to get going, and I’ve got work here to do. I’ll talk to you later, bro.”
She watched as he nodded and jogged out to the ambulance, then went back inside. Completing her tasks, her mind was in turmoil. Rory was worried. And if she knew her brother, he wouldn’t stay quiet about it. Soon, everyone in her family would be worried. Again. A-fuckin’-gain. Just as they have been ever since I came home from Afghanistan.
An image of Torin moved through her mind, and she was reminded of a quote her counselor had hanging on her wall:
“You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present.” Jan Glidewell
She stood quickly and moved over to the window, peering out at the small sunshine-filled garden where Mr. Tanika and his wife used to sit. Her chest depressed as the air left her lungs. It’s time. I’ve got to let go of the past.
Torin looked up as the door to the Celtic Cock opened and Rory walked through. He was surprised to see him at this time of day. For a second, his heart pounded at the thought that maybe something had happened to Erin. Mentally shaking his head, he dismissed that notion since neither he nor Erin had told anyone of their burgeoning friendship. At least, I don’t think she has. An image of the McBride brothers ganging up