BrokenHearted (6 page)

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Authors: Brooklyn Taylor

BOOK: BrokenHearted
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“Yeah, for now anyway until I find a condo. St. Luke’s booked it for me.”

“My mom works here … she has for years.”

“That’s cool,” I respond.

“Well, it was good to see you.” She waves like she is going to take a running leap to get away from me.

“Ryann?” I ask and walk after her.

“Yeah …” She turns.

“I wanted to thank you again for the dessert. I really enjoyed it … Hence why I am here …” I smile and pat my stomach.

She snorts. “Hardly, Trevor.”

I follow her eyes down to my stomach and then back up biting her lip just a bit. She seemed to like what she saw, but she wasn’t going to let me know that with words.

“I’m the one that needs to work out more.” She frowns.

I move a little closer. “I disagree, I think you look … beautiful.”

And I lift my eyebrows so that she gets the message loud and clear. And I meant it. My flirting has come out in full force, and the playfulness she brings out in me actually turns me on.

She smiles like my compliment made a difference but is making her slightly uncomfortable. “Thank you even if I don’t believe you. Maybe you can come into Smith’s one day this weekend if you aren’t too busy.”

“Maybe.” I smile but decided to play hardball. Why? Because it felt good to see someone eyeing me, interested, who thinks I’m beautiful.

I watch her walk out with a smile on her face, a smile that made me aware of my unhappiness and thinking about wanting something more.

I wanted to know everything about her. And then more. Or maybe not. Really, it wouldn’t hurt to be friends, though, right?

Ryann

The shift at Smith’s tonight was dragging out, thanks to one difficult customer after another. Everyone seemed to be agitated, including me. I heard Trevor’s dad was not doing well at all from my mom who had spoken with Jackie. She was worried and even made him some soup and fresh bread to deliver. I dropped it off for Mom but had to leave it on the porch since no one answered the door. I was worried about him, Margaret, and Trevor—more for his parents than for Trevor. Losing a loved one, especially when you have been so distant and holding a grudge against them can only make things worse.

Lou was a chatterbox. His loneliness was becoming more and more apparent. Tonight, he was telling me about the love of his life who he lost due to being a big chicken shit.

“Shocked to hear an ole geezer like me had a love, ain’t it?”

“Not at all, Lewis.”

“Well, I did. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She lives here in Austin, and I see her every once in a while. We are decent to each other, but she will never forgive me for what I did, and I can’t blame her. Hell, I can’t even forgive myself. I guess that is why my old bag of bones comes here most nights. Can’t stand to be in my own company. At least, here I can pretend.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lou. You are a good guy. Maybe one day she will forgive you. Time heals… and maybe she just needed some time.”

“Almost thirty years? I’m not holding out much hope.” He took another sip of his beer. “Look at the time … Time got away from me tonight,” Lewis commented.

He got up and sucked down the rest of his drink. “See ya tomorrow, sugar.”

“Hey, Lewis?”

“Ma’am?”

“What did she not forgive you for? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Another time, sugar. Another time.”

“Night,” I responded.

Just as Lewis walked out, Sadie came in. It was a little after midnight, and she was supposed to have gone on a date with Maxwell. It never did, though, and she was furious. He stood her up, and to Sadie, there was no good reason for that.

“You know, Sadie, the world doesn’t revolve around you. I know he should have called you, but God forbid … life does happen. Maybe he is with Trevor? I know his dad has been really bad off.”

“I hope it is a good excuse because I would hate to have to tell him to go to hell.”

“Being there for a friend is a pretty good excuse.” I smirked in irritation.

“Well, I am pissed and have never been stood up.”

“There is a first time for everything.”

I rolled my eyes with a grunt. I get her a glass of dry red wine. Sadie was the only one who could stomach the woodsy taste.

“You aren’t drinking with me?” she asks.

“No … I am sticking with water tonight. I was out in the sun a lot today, plus I worked out at the gym. I feel dehydrated.”

“At Regency or at Gold’s?”

“Regency. And I happened to run into Trevor.”

“What?! Why are you just now telling me this?”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“My ass,” she snarls.

“He was at Regency when I was, and we were on different treadmills. I noticed him in the mirror as soon as he walked into the room.”

“And …” she prompted.

“And I acted like I didn’t until he saw me. He looked A-m-a-z-i-n-g in shorts and a tank. Holy hell. I mean fabulous. I finished my run, and he did too and then I eyed him on the pull-up bars. I about drooled right in front of him. He must take really good care of his body!”

“Duh, he is a doctor. Of course, he is going to take care of his body. Did y’all talk?”

“Yes … and he complimented me saying he thought I was beautiful,” I laughed a second. “I saw him eyeing me too. Total turn-on.”

“See! I knew he liked you …”

“I don’t know what it is … and I don’t want to label it, but I really think he is good looking and damn … he is really good looking.”

She laughed at me as if I was giggling over a childhood crush. “It has been a long time since I have seen you gush over a guy.  It looks good on you.”

“I’m just cautious, you know?”

“Yeah … and maybe if you didn’t work so much, you could spend more time at the gym? Why
do
you work so damn much?”

“Because I like to, Sadie. It keeps my mind clear. I like to stay busy.”

“Yeah … sure … clear … we both know why. But keep telling yourself that.” She takes a long sip of her wine and then traces the top of the glass.

I don’t say anything to her because I am sure she knows the truth. She knows why I am the mess I am today.

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“My ass.” She smirks.

“Look, I just want to make sure I can always take care of myself. After watching my mother work her ass off to support me my entire life and then living through bad decision after bad decision with Jake, I want to make sure I am never put in those shoes again. I want to know I can always stand on my own two feet.”

“Ry, you can’t worry about every single thing like that. You can’t weigh the risk ratio before you comment a guy looks cute … or every other little thing you think.”

“And why the hell can’t I?”

“Because life is too short.”

“That is true, hon. It is. But life is too short to be treated badly too. I am happy where I am right now. And how many people can say that?” I ask, confident in my question.

She doesn’t answer, so I comment. “You aren’t. You are here upset over Maxwell. I’m not upset about anything. See? Who is smarter?”

She rolls her eyes at me, finishes the wine, and then pushes it my way to give her a refill. She is here to drink away her sorrows, but I have to admit I am glad to see my best friend.

Six

Trevor

It was finally time for me to go home, and I couldn’t have been more ready. I had just finished my fifteen-hour shift and was being urgently paged to triage.  I had already argued with two nurses tonight who weren’t able to address the issues at hand, leaving me shorthanded and frustrated. It has been a long time since I have thrown a fit over incompetency, but I surrendered today when I reached my limit.

I round the corner, biting my tongue and trying to remind myself that I need to keep my temper in check and remain professional.
Does anyone know how to do their job around here?

And then my broken heart skips a beat. My mom is flushed and in a panic. I look beside her, and my dad is white as a ghost with an oxygen mask strapped to his head. The nurse is taking his vitals and recording everything while talking to him calmly.

“Mom, what’s going on?” I say coming close beside her.

“I don’t know … He just wasn’t himself and really seemed to be struggling to breathe. He couldn’t even talk to me when I asked him a question.”

I walk over to my dad and start to examine him. He resists my touch but relents when I persisted. He removes his oxygen and mutters, “I am fine. I told the woman that I was just tired.”

The nurse comments on his vitals. “Dr. James, his pulse ox is 50. And his BP is 100/70.

“Dad, you are not getting enough oxygen.”

“I said I am fine.” He starts coughing, and I know exactly what it is then. I grab my stethoscope from around my neck and listen to his chest.

Pneumonia.

“Beverly, please get our patient started on a breathing treatment. Albuterol 2.5 mg and also order a chest x-ray bilateral lungs.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she responds.

“Dad, are you in any pain?”

“No, I’m fine.” I look at Mom, knowing he isn’t telling the truth. He was never a medicine taker.

“Beverly, I am going to order some stat bloodwork. Can you make sure that it gets drawn ASAP so I can see what his blood gases are?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

I look at the side and see my mother tearing up. She knows this isn’t good. She has been caring for him and hasn’t left his side. Knowing my mother, she has done her research, and she knows what is coming next. Thinking back, I have only seen my mother this upset a few times in my life.  They have actually left me out of any details of Dad’s health since the falling out years ago, so now, I’ll get some answers. 

*****

I was cognizant that the news on Dad wasn’t going to be good, but this isn’t what I expected. He has pneumonia, just as I’d expected, but he also has cancer.  And one of the worst types that anyone should have to fight. After the fact of running his STAT bloodwork, I also was able to find out he has been dropping substantial weight. I knew that he was thinner but didn’t question it.

I admitted my father and then stayed in the room getting him hooked up to the IVs and adjusted.

He says very little to me, and I can’t blame him. He knew what was going on. And I think my mother did too.

“I’m going to have Harold come in for an oncology consult this afternoon.”

My father acted as if I wasn’t talking.

“We have already done that, son. He checked in on us earlier. He has stage 4 pancreatic cancer. And now pneumonia.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Does it matter?” My father speaks up.

“Of course, it matters. You are sick. I could have been here.”

My mother stands up. “I’m going to go get some coffee; I’ll be right back, William.” She walks out of the room for a brief moment.

We sit in silence for a minute until my father continues. “I didn’t want you coming home for just my sickness.”

“What did you want me to come home for?”

“Because you wanted to. Because you have moved past everything,” he says.

“Okay … but you needed me.”

“That is where you are wrong, son. I don’t need you. I wanted you here. Big difference.”

I have never seen my father show so much emotion. Anger, yes. Frustration, yes. But not love.

I clear my throat.

“I started your antibiotics, and you should start feeling a lot better.”

He nods, breathing in his oxygen.

“I reviewed your chart when Harold brought it up. You only tried a couple of rounds of treatment and then stopped?”

“It wasn’t working,” he states.

“Did Harold discuss a Whipple?”

“Son, I learned a long time ago not to question a physician. And no, I don’t want a Whipple.”

Mother walks back in acting as if she was walking into a room of the house and not a hospital room.

“William, you would get tickled if you could see these babies in the nursery.”

He smiles. “Margaret, you have always loved babies.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Maybe after we get you feeling better, we can get a wheelchair and go check them out.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Dad had closed his eyes and was resting now. That was the best I could ask for at the moment.

I wanted to find Harold to ask why he didn’t let me know what was going on here, and why my mother hadn’t told me the truth. As for Harold, I knew he couldn’t tell me any information that my parents didn’t want. But my mom …

“Mom, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes, dear.”

I lead her to the waiting room, and we sit. Luckily, only a few other people were there, and we could have some privacy.

“About dad … I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” I sigh.

“Your father asked that we didn’t. He didn’t want you coming home because of a sickness.”

“He already told me that. It is insane to me.”

“What is insane is that you are still the same boy that you were when you left. Closed off, calloused, and stubborn.”

“Mother, I love you, and I love Dad. If I would have known he was so sick … I would have—”

“You are spending so much time talking about this … wondering why. It doesn’t matter. Be here now and show your father now that you love him.”

“Okay.” I had nothing else to say, and that is exactly what my mother had intended.

*****

After hearing the bad and final news regarding my father, I knew my time with him would be short. Seeing the diagnosis in black and white damn near numbering his days hit me. It’s so hard because I want to forgive him, but my heart reminds me … She is gone, and she took my heart with her. Of course, I know more than he thinks I do. I know what was really going on, after the fact. It didn’t make it hurt any less; even if Leah didn’t really love me the way I thought she did, I still loved her deeply.

I texted Maxwell to come over, and he said he was heading over to Smith’s to see if he could catch Sadie there. Apparently, he had stood her up and had to try to convince her he was sorry.  Max isn’t the least bit worried about when he misses something or fucks something up. But he certainly loves the chase, and Sadie is giving him that. But she will be like all the others … Once they are no longer a challenge, and he closes the deal, he will move on. That’s his M.O.

I had two choices tonight; I could sit here and cry in my beer, or I could go meet Max and have a person to talk to. The one person who knows what happened … The person who asked me many times to come back home and forgive my parents. Hell, he helped me find out what really happened with Leah. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have been able to find out what I did without him. My dad never told me all he knew; probably because he didn’t think I would believe him. And he was right. 

I change into a pair of my jeans and pull on a t-shirt that has seen better days. Hell, I wasn’t trying to impress anybody and put a little thought into what I looked like. I have a pit in my stomach that is hardening, reminding me of the pain I was feeling, and luckily, the hotel that I was staying at had a bar in it. I walk down to it and have a few drinks before heading over to Smith’s. Bourbon always went down smooth and took away any stress I was feeling.

Hell, I wasn’t driving, and the best part of it is that it would make me a little numb, assuring I would get to the goal I’m aiming for tonight. No shift tomorrow but I’ll still be at the hospital to try to see what I can do for my father. Truthfully, it was probably more for my mother than for him. I loved that woman.

One of the reasons I was able to convince myself to go to Smith’s was a woman, oddly enough. Since the moment I met Ryann, something about her made me feel alive. I liked being around her, and that was a big step for me that I honestly didn’t know I was missing. I mean, you know when you are cold, when you are heartless, and when you don’t want to care because it’s simple— you just don’t care.

Something, though, about her spoke to me. I could tell she would challenge me, and that was sexy. About as sexy as her dimples when she smiled even when she tried not to, or as sexy as she was in the gym all sweaty.

I laid awake a lot after the day at the stables when we rode together. Without knowing it, she was giving me a little something to look forward to. And that felt good. She was starting to become a friend even though the attraction was obvious.

If I was honest with myself and honest with her, I knew that I could be friends with her. Once she knew I was broken and wasn’t willing to have anything more than a friendship in my life, she would understand anyway, right?

On my way over to meet Maxwell, I realize I probably consumed more than I anticipated. I walk through the door of Smith’s and heads turn of a few women clearly looking for a good time. I immediately turn my head the other way in search of Max, not the least bit interested in a woman tonight. Yeah, that is definitely not what I need to add to my plate. They’re barking up the wrong tree.

Ryann is here again tonight behind the bar laughing and wiggling her shoulders like she is dancing to the music that is playing softly. She is beautiful with a smile that would light up any room. I would even go as far as to say to make me wish I could … no, I know that’s not possible. It’s got to be the alcohol.

I’ve never seen her in anything but blue jeans and tank tops, yet she looks more beautiful every time I see her. Not that it matters … beauty is easy to identify.  It is any other emotion that I refuse to let in or acknowledge.

She looks up and sees me as I sit beside Maxwell, and he gives me a pat on the back.

“Glad to see you showed up, man.” Always a smartass. Of course, I showed up. I need to talk.

I grin, ready for my next drink just as she stands in front of me. “Hey, Ryann. Can you get me bourbon straight please?”

“Sure.” She smiles sweetly. “I hope you don’t mind me asking but—”

“He is doing as well as can be expected. Unfortunately, I know what is going to happen next and that—” I stop. I know it but really don’t want to say it out loud again.  It was hard enough earlier.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I was really praying for another answer. You know, that something could be done.”

And when I look up at her, she means what she said. Sadie and Maxwell were quiet beside us watching us converse over the old wooden bar.

I wait for my drink and then thank her again.

“Sadie, I’m going to go talk with Trev for a minute.” I watch him lean in and give her a kiss as if they have done it a million times before.

Before turning, Ryann catches my eye, and she is rolling her eyes with a look of disgust. Well, I’ll be damned. I like her even more now. 

I fill Max in on Dad’s details. I tell him how he has stage 4 pancreatic cancer, and how right now, he also has pneumonia. I explain how it’d spread, and he didn’t have long left, how I saw the tears in Mom’s eyes, and the look on my dad’s face as if he already knew and was not too shocked when he heard. I can count how many times I have cried on one hand, but right now, I just keep thinking of my parents going through this. It is all I can think about, and the guilt eating at me is destroying me.

“Look, Trevor, I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but you knew he was sick. I’ve told you that every time I went to see him or ran into them that things weren’t looking good.”

“I knew he was sick but I couldn’t—”

“I get it. But how many fucking times do we have to go through this?  Like it or not, your dad is dying.” He pauses; I think more for his benefit than for mine. He begins to back up, and I feel the tears building in my throat. The lump is getting harder and harder to swallow.

“He knew more than you did at the time. He was trying to protect you. It has been almost ten years, and I think you need to—”

“How?”

“I can’t tell you that. All I can tell you is that this is your last chance to make it right. At the very least, tell him you know what he was trying to do. And let it go. If for no one else, do it for yourself.”

“I failed him … and my mom. Maybe I could’ve done something?”

“Maybe? But doesn’t really matter now,” Maxwell says.

“I just … I’m not ready to lose—”

“No one ever is,” he agrees.

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