Read Come What May (Heartbeat) Online
Authors: Faith Sullivan
Come What May (Heartbeat) (13 page)
I’m sitting in church trying to get my bearings.
I ran out of Adam’s apartment yesterday afternoon and never looked back. After I called a cab from my cell phone, the driver seemed amused when he picked me up on the deserted road holding my purse and wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. I undoubtedly cemented a spot on his ‘most memorable customer list.’ But I had to get out of there, no matter what.
When I got home, no one was there so I crashed on my bed, shutting the blinds and hiding under the covers. Simone knocked on my door when she got back, but I refused to come out. I couldn’t face her, not yet. I couldn’t quite absorb it myself, much less explain it to somebody else.
This morning, I fled to the early service at the African Methodist Episcopal Church to seek some solace and lick my wounds. However, the kids sitting in front of me are driving me nuts. One is sniffling while munching on Cheerios from a baggie his mom pulled out of her purse. The other is running a toy car along the back of the seat then repeatedly dropping it on the floor. If I have to pick it up one more time, I’m going to scream.
The minister turns to an elderly gentleman standing at the podium. He has a list of intentions to read. With an unsteady hand he bumps the microphone, causing a sonic boom to ripple off the stained glass windows. He coughs anxiously before reciting what’s written down for him. “For the diseased of the congregation, we pray…” A woman on the altar rushes forward to say something to him before retaking her place with the choir. In a quivering voice, he starts again. “My apologies. For the deceased of the congregation, we pray.” There’s a slight outbreak of muffled laughter, and I roll my eyes. I came for the sermon, not the comic relief.
Finally, the minister resumes control of the service. I focus my complete attention on what he has to say. Inside, my heart is breaking into a million pieces and I need some dose of comfort to keep me from completely falling apart. Some inspiration to keep me going when all I want to do is curl into a ball and give up.
“I came across an image online—a very interesting depiction of Jesus in the time between his crucifixion and resurrection. It shows him descending into hell to rescue Adam and Eve.” Just hearing his name causes my heart to contract. I can’t find a refuge from my misery anywhere, not even in church. But I force myself to continue listening. “He extended a hand to each of them, even in that pit of endless despair—rescuing them, saving them, loving them. And you know what? He wants to do the same thing for you. He’ll go where no one else dares to go in order to set you free from your heartache. You only have to believe that he has the power to do so. He will not leave you in a place without love if you call out to him.”
And that’s when I lose it. That message of hope that I so needed to hear overwhelms me. I refuse to let disappointment rule my life. Adam made a mistake—all right, a huge mistake—but now is not the time to cast blame. He needs someone in his corner. And what did I do? I ran, leaving him to face this on his own when he’s already in a pretty unstable position when it comes to his nightmares about Katie. The news about this baby can send him over the edge. He might do something incredibly stupid that there’ll be no coming back from. I can’t let him do that. I can’t sit back and watch him destroy himself. I have to be the bigger person and put my feelings aside. Whatever dream I had about us being together, that’s over now. But I can still be his friend.
Filing out of the aisle once the closing hymn has ended, I hurry through the crowd as people stop to talk to each other while others block the exit as they wait to shake the minister’s hand. I’m getting frazzled. I need to get out of here and call Adam. I have no time for socializing.
Squeezing between a man with a potbelly and a woman clutching a cane, I run smack dab into the guy who asked me out at the car wash—the one I told Adam about. He blushes profusely and backs away from me, mortified. Before I even have a chance to apologize, he ducks out the side door. Great, now I freaked him out on top of everything else. But his sudden appearance makes me question what I really want. How different would my life be right now if I had gone out with him? Would it be easier and less confusing? Would I be happier knowing that everything was structured and safe in a relationship where I’d be at church with my boyfriend every Sunday without fail? Instead, I’m chasing after a guy who knocked up his brother’s girlfriend.
Taking a deep breath, I pause a moment to collect myself on the church steps. Is this path with Adam really the one I want to go down? Pursuing someone I can’t have? He’s given me no indication that he sees some sort of future for us. And now it looks like it’s virtually impossible. Is he going to move to Philly to be closer to the baby? Will I lose him as my ambulance partner too? What if he removes himself from my life completely? I don’t think I can survive that.
And that’s when I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m in love with him. Just the thought of being separated from Adam sends a stabbing pain through my heart. I don’t even care if he doesn’t love me back. I can’t be without him in my life. I don’t think I’m strong enough to endure it. He’s too important to me now. I can’t let him go. I have to fight for him.
We’re supposed to be at work in an hour, but I can’t wait that long. Fumbling through my purse, I extract my phone and dial his number before I can chicken out. The choir members mill out and gather around the minister, talking loudly. I can barely hear even holding one ear closed with my fingers. I pace down the sidewalk in front of the flowerbed. But his phone just keeps on ringing. He doesn’t pick up. His voice mail comes on and I debate hanging up. I’ll see him in person soon. Maybe it’s better if we talk face to face about all this. Not paying attention to where I’m walking, I trip on a crack in the sidewalk and my phone goes flying, smashing against the concrete. Frantically, I bend down to retrieve it. It doesn’t look damaged, but the call was disconnected. Shit.
It seems nothing is easy when it comes to Adam.
The waves pass beneath us as we float on my surfboard. Her body rocks against mine. Tendrils of her windblown hair whip across my mouth as she leans back to capture my lips. And in that instant, I’m whole. Nothing can hurt me. I’m where I’m supposed to be with the girl I’m meant to be with.
Her tongue dances with mine as I bury my hands deeper in her red hair. The sun is descending below the horizon and the glow of its departing rays mingles with the warmth of her breath on my face. The water laps at our knees as my fingers skim over the ties of her bikini top. This is what heaven feels like.
Reluctantly breaking away, I lower my hands to her hips, drawing her closer to me. Moving my thumbs in tiny circles, I’m mesmerized by how her porcelain skin looks next to my tanned knuckles. The contrast hypnotizes me as she places a finger beneath my chin, lifting my gaze to hers.
She caresses the stubble on my cheek and I tip my head so that it fits in her palm. Her other hand glides up my stomach before coming to rest over my heart. She seems fascinated by its beat, a steady rhythm that’s calling out for her touch. She tickles the hair on my chest and my grip on her waist tightens. She smiles before running a trail of featherweight kisses down my jaw.
This is what I was seeking. I’ve finally come home. I’m where I belong in the arms of the woman I love.
“Katie…” I whisper as I nibble her ear.
“Adam…” The board bobs in the surf and I indulge in hearing her voice say my name. Burrowing my lips against her neck, she calls out again and I’m lost in the rapture of the moment.
The sky begins to darken, and somewhere deep inside my consciousness I’m aware that my time with her is drawing to a close. But how can I let go after experiencing her like this? I groan once again, taking her mouth with mine. Our legs intertwine under the surface as we rock together on the rhythm of the waves. Our bodies move in unison as our kiss intensifies.
“Adam…” She laughs against my mouth while her small hands skim across my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Mm hmm…” I pretend I’m listening as I try to reclaim her mouth.
“No, really. You have to stay strong, but it’ll be all right in the end.” She giggles as my stubbled chin tickles her nose. “Someone’s there to watch out for you.”
I don’t care about anyone else but her right now. Leaning her back against my outstretched arms, I extend a line of kisses down her neck, not stopping until my lips are between the cups of her bikini top. My ear is a fraction of an inch from her heart, but I hear nothing. Her ivory skin grows cold beneath my touch as I raise my startled eyes to hers. Suddenly, I’m afraid.
“I’m sorry that you’re still trying to find me in someone else.” She places her hand once again over my heart. “But just remember, I’m always in here whenever you need me. You’ll never be alone. Come what may, my love for you will never die.”
And right when I’m going to reach for her, the sparse glow of twilight is extinguished and I’m plunged into the water. Gasping for air, I’m unable to surface. Straining against the current, my biceps are on fire as I try to make my way back to her. But I keep falling deeper beneath the waves, the life draining out of me as I succumb to the darkness.
***
I watch dawn break over the mountain.
I’m smoking some weed I scored last night off Chuck, the punk nephew of Mr. Talbot, the owner of Tri-County Ambulance. I required something stronger to settle my nerves in addition to the empty bottles of beer scattered around me. I don’t even care about the potential ramifications of buying marijuana from a relative of my boss. I needed something to pull me out of my funk after Jada left.
And now I’m going to have to face her while stoned out of my fucking mind.
But she knows the worst about me now. I’m going to be a dad to a baby I don’t even want. Kelly said that she and Brian hadn’t slept together in two months before our drunken rendezvous in February. They had a fight on Christmas when he didn’t propose and he was banished to the guest room after that. When Kelly’s pregnancy test came back positive, that’s how he knew there was no way he could be the father. He would’ve left her if she didn’t break down and tell him it was mine. That’s the only reason he’s staying with her.
Kelly doesn’t love me, and I don’t love her. But she loves Brian, and he’s trying to do his duty by standing by her even if the kid isn’t his. No one knows the baby’s true paternity except the three of us. It’ll be a secret we take to the grave. I’ll never claim my rights to the child, and nothing more will be required of me other than to attend the wedding as my brother’s best man, a role everyone expects me to fulfill. If I don’t show, it’ll throw up a red flag, and that’s the last thing any of us want. It wouldn’t take people long to do the math and realize that Kelly and Brian were staying with me when she conceived. By not attending the wedding, the gossip surrounding the reason behind my non-appearance would overwhelm us. It’d look too suspicious, especially to our parents. So even though they’d like me far away from the celebration, they are forced to endure my presence on their big day.
Everything is so fucked up.
I’m making out with a dead girl in my dreams. I’m screwing women I have no business screwing. I’m pushing away the one person who actually gives a damn about me. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle of heartache and I’m sinking fast.
***
Jada is already in the ambulance when I get behind the wheel a few hours later. I had two cups of black coffee, but I still don’t feel completely sobered up. I shouldn’t be driving today, but I don’t think Jada is in the right frame of mind either. Leaning across the seat, I hand over the freshly laundered uniform that she left at my apartment, all folded and pressed.
“Thanks.” And even though she’s mad at me, the surprise at my diligence is evident in her voice. I’m going to need all the brownie points I can get. “You look like shit.” She runs her gaze over my unshaven face and bloodshot eyes. She has no idea what bad shape I’m in. She, of course, is immaculate—her hair pulled back and gleaming, her uniform crisp in this oppressive heat. How the hell did I ever think she’d be interested in a loser like me? I’m doing her a favor by pushing her away with my idiotic mistakes. She’s better off without me ruining her life.
But before I have the opportunity to talk things out with her, the comm interrupts and I’m forced to pick up.
“Unit 365 responding…go ahead.” My eyes fix on her as I click the receiver, and she doesn’t glance away. There still might be a chance for me to win her back. I don’t want this baby, and Kelly and Brian are all set to raise it as their own. I’m not going to be a part of its life. It is not going to come between the two of us. She needs to know that.
“We have a ninety-one-year-old male hospice patient who is unresponsive at 219 Poplar. Please proceed.” The crackle of the comm’s static fills the cab, but it’s quickly drowned out when I turn the ignition.
“10-4.” I reattach the receiver to the Velcro fastening and begin backing the rig out of the garage. We don’t have far to go. The call is only a few blocks away, but I turn on the siren in order to blow through the traffic lights. Jada grips her seatbelt as I punch the accelerator. If we can save this guy, it’ll go a long way toward healing what’s broken between us. Just remembering how we’ve pulled together over so many cases gives me hope that we can repair our relationship.
My head is fuzzy and my vision a tad blurry as we arrive on the scene. I’ll let Jada take the lead on this one. If she gets in trouble, I’ll intervene. But in the state I’m in, I don’t think I should be working on any patients. If mouth-to-mouth is required, they’ll probably still be able to smell the alcohol on my breath. To curb my hangover, I had a quick beer before I headed out, and with no time to brush my teeth again, I don’t want to chance it. I could get written up on so many violations for this, I don’t even want to think about it. But I had to see Jada today, no matter what the cost.
The front door of the white Colonial home is wide open and an elderly woman is ushering us inside. “My husband’s upstairs, first room on the right. I can’t wake him up. I don’t think he’s breathing.” Her face is tear-stained and she has an afghan around her shoulders. What an ordeal to have to go through at this age. It might be a blessing if we can’t save him. I wonder how long he’s been on hospice care.
The old man’s shriveled body greets us when we enter the room. He’s skin and bones and as white as a sheet. The chances of bringing him back don’t look promising. Jada checks for a pulse and places an ear next to his open mouth. I follow with the gear bag, ready to give her what she needs.
“He’s still alive, but barely. I’m assuming since you called 911, he doesn’t have a ‘do not resuscitate’ order in place?” Jada’s take-charge attitude reminds me of Charlie. The two of them are so good in emotional situations like this. They don’t lose their heads, but they don’t forget to use their hearts either.
“No. He never wanted to bother about such things.” The wife fiddles with the gold wedding band on her finger.
“All right, we’re going to need to transport your husband to the hospital in order to stabilize his vitals. I’ll set up the stretcher outside, and my partner will carry him down the stairs. You are welcome to come with us in the ambulance.” Jada moves around me and pats the woman on the arm.
“I better get my shoes…” The wife wanders over to the closet in a daze, and my heart goes to her. It must be tough getting old.
I’m going to have to be extra careful in removing the man from the bed. He looks so frail in his cotton striped pajamas. Drawing back the sheet, I turn him on his side before sliding my arms underneath his body. He weighs next to nothing and I have no problem getting him out of the room. It’s the dozen or so stairs I’m worried about.
“I’m right behind you,” his wife responds, clutching her purse in her wrinkled hands. For all she knows, this could be it. Her husband may never make it back to their bedroom again. It’s a bleak thought and I try to push it out of my mind. Not now, not here. Jada and I are going to give it our best shot. I refuse to let him die on our watch.
Putting one foot in front of the other, I gingerly begin my descent. There’s no way I can grip the railing since both hands are supporting the man in my arms. I can’t even look down to get my bearings because his body is blocking my view of the steps. I should be moving faster due to the direness of the situation, but I’m afraid of tripping. My head is still fuzzy and my balance is off. Talk about a wicked case of vertigo.
We’re halfway down when Jada charges through the front door with the stretcher. She gives me a strange look, no doubt wondering why I’m still on the stairs. Noticing my hesitation, she climbs up to my position and starts guiding me down. Her hand is on my arm, and I feel relaxed enough to take a deep breath. I have all the trust in the world in her. Jada would never let me fall, no matter how much I make things difficult for her.
“That’s it, Adam. One more.” Buoyed by Jada’s encouragement, I feel my shoe hit the carpet as she wheels over the stretcher. Lightly, I lay the man down while Jada secures a strap around his legs. Together, we head for the ambulance with the wife trailing in our wake.
“I think I should drive.” Jada’s not criticizing me outright, but it’s clear what she’s implying. And even though she’s right, it rankles me somehow to give in to her. I smoked that weed hours ago. I’m fully capable of getting us to the hospital in one piece. But then I remember why she became a paramedic and what happened to her high school friend. She has every reason not to trust me and be overly cautious, especially when it concerns the safety of other people, not just ourselves. But my stubbornness wins out.
“No, I got it.” Hoisting myself into the back of the rig, I reach down for the stretcher as Jada collapses its legs. The wife hovers in the background as the man moans. “Sorry to be jostling you around, sir. We’re almost ready to depart.” I extend my hand to the woman to help her aboard, and Jada climbs in on the opposite side. My body grazes Jada’s as I hustle by her in the cramped quarters. My mind is going a mile a minute but hearing her breath catch makes me forget everything but her. This isn’t the time or the place, but I squeeze her hand before jumping out the back. Her eyes lock with mine as I slam the doors shut.
Distractedly, I place my hair behind my ears and hop into the driver’s seat. We’re only about ten minutes away from the hospital. This call is as routine as it gets. I could do this run in my sleep. I’ve done it so many times. I shift out of park and head toward the downtown. And that’s when the fireworks begin.
Several of the alarms begin to beep in the back, and I crane my neck to see what’s going on. “He’s crashing,” Jada yells as she hurries over to the defibrillator. Cracking open the case, she grabs hold of the paddles, rubbing them together while urging the wife to open her husband’s shirt. Checking to make sure she has a full charge, she braces herself against the side of the stretcher as I make a sharp turn. “Clear!” she screams as the wife backs away into the corner.
I hear the thump of the body as the shock raises then lowers the man from the stretcher. I listen plaintively for the beeps to resume, but they don’t. Jada tries again. “Clear!”
And in that split second, I take my eyes off the road to look over my shoulder at what’s going on in the back…and disaster strikes. I run a red light, and even though the siren is blaring and the lights are flashing, a car plows right into me. I punch the brakes and we come to a sudden stop. The stretcher flies forward and strikes the dividing partition as Jada cries out in pain. I groan when the seatbelt digs into my ribs. Equipment falls off the shelves in the back, and something loud hits the floor.
I’m momentarily shell-shocked as I try to make sense of things. There’s a Honda Civic wedged into the passenger door. I can see the driver through the window and he appears to be okay. He’s conscious and moving around. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else in the car with him. Triaging the situation, my attention turns to those I am with. Even if they’re not hurt, we still need help. There’s no way this ambulance is going anywhere now.