The Wishing Season (10 page)
“You just missed PJ. I guess her grand opening is this weekend. Layla’s been staging the restaurant.”
Cole had seen Seth’s wife around the place the past few days. “It’s looking good.” He’d poked around when PJ wasn’t there. Heaven knew she wasn’t going to offer him a grand tour.
“You need any help with that range hookup, just give me a call. I’ve put in a few.”
“Wouldn’t that be consorting with the enemy?”
Seth shrugged. “Just keeping the customers happy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”
A minute later Cole pulled out of the hardware lot. Darkness was starting to fall, and katydids buzzed in the hills around him. He drove toward the house, the road winding alongside the river.
As he neared town he saw PJ’s car at the mom-and-pop gas station. The gas hose ran to her car, and she was sitting inside. He took a second look as he passed. Her head rested on the steering wheel. He guessed he wasn’t the only one worn out.
He entered town and braked for the light in front of the Rialto Theater, though there was no traffic. The town had pretty much cleared out for the evening. He couldn’t get the image of PJ hunched over the steering wheel out of his mind. She was always hopping with energy.
Was she really just resting? Or was she upset over something? He remembered finding her in the house weeks ago, pale and shaken, her heart racing. He hadn’t noticed any more episodes, but it wasn’t like they’d been hanging out together. She’d moved in a few days earlier, but even so, they kept to their own floors.
Ever since she’d accused him of stealing her cookware, he’d stayed out of her way. The accusation still stung, though he didn’t know why. They weren’t friends, though he must’ve begun to think in those terms; otherwise, why would he care what she thought?
The light turned green, and he accelerated. His eyes drifted to the rearview mirror and settled on PJ’s car, still parked in
front of the pump. The streetlamps flickered on, pushing back the impending darkness.
If he didn’t check on her, he’d just worry. He swung his truck around at Cappy’s Pizzeria and headed back toward the station. He’d just drive by and make sure she looked okay. Hopefully it was dark enough she wouldn’t notice him skulking past.
But when he slowed, the gas line was still connected to her car, and she was still slumped over the steering wheel. Frowning, he braked, pulling into the lot.
The sweep of his headlights over the vehicle did nothing to alert her. He stopped beside her car and shoved his truck into park before getting out and rapping on the passenger window.
She raised her head, and he released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You okay?”
She nodded, looking away. But she didn’t look all right. Her eyes seemed distant, and she looked pale under the harsh station lights. He tried the door and found it unlocked.
He planted his palm on the car’s roof, leaning down. “You sure? You’re breathing kind of fast.”
“Go away, Cole.” Her chest rose and fell quickly. Her forehead was shiny with perspiration, though that could be because her car was hot as Hades.
He went around the car and replaced the gas pump, capping her tank, then got in on the passenger side. He turned the key over and cranked up the air.
“What are you doing?”
He took her wrist from her lap. She tried to pull it away, but he held tight and took her pulse.
“I’m fine.” She closed her eyes while he counted.
“It’s 130,” he said a moment later. “You feel dizzy?”
“No.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ll be fine in a minute. Just go away. Please.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
Her hand felt cool and clammy. It trembled in his until she pulled it away. She lowered her head, hiding behind the curtain of her hair. She still hadn’t answered him.
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“I’m fine, Cole. I just—just work myself up sometimes.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” He got out and parked his truck, then opened the driver’s door. “Scoot over.”
“Why?”
“I’m taking you to the ER.”
“I said I’m—”
“If you say you’re fine one more time, I’m going to pick you up myself. Move over.”
“I don’t have time for this. Not to mention the money. I have a lot to do; I open in three days.”
“And what are you going to do when this happens in the middle of dinner rush?”
Her hands trembled as she lowered them. She pressed her lips together, and her chin wobbled. “Fine.” She unfastened her belt and maneuvered to the other seat.
He slid into the car, buckled her belt and then his own, and pulled from the gas station. Riverview General was just a few miles outside of town. PJ was quiet until they pulled into the lot.
“They’re not going to find anything. I’m always working myself up over nothing. Just ask my family.”
“How about we ask the doctor instead. Want me to call someone?”
“No.”
Someone came to the curb and helped her inside while Cole parked the car.
Three hours later, PJ gathered her things and left the triage room. She was still shaky but now just from missing supper. The deductible was going to hurt her wallet, but at least she had answers.
Walking down the sterile hall, she rooted through her purse for her keys, then remembered Cole had driven her car here. She’d have to call him or call her family—neither option was appealing.
She felt for her phone, then remembered she’d left it charging in her car. Great. Entering the lobby, she was headed toward the counter when a movement from the lobby drew her attention.
Cole was walking her way. “All done?”
“I didn’t expect you to wait.”
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah.”
He ushered her out the door, leading her to the car. She started for the driver’s side.
“I’ll drive,” he said.
“It’s my car.”
“You just left the ER.” He held up the keys. “And I have the keys.”
She scowled at him as he led her to the passenger side and opened the door.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?”
“You’re the youngest of five; you should be used to it.”
Unfortunately, she was too used to it. She tried to be angry with him, but it was hard when he’d just wasted three hours in an ER lobby for her.
“So what’d you find out?” he asked as he pulled onto the street.
She hesitated at sharing private information. They weren’t exactly best buds. But he had brought her here and waited on her. “Apparently my thyroid is high. I guess that can cause panic attacks.”
“I wondered if that’s what they were. My mom used to have them.”
He’d never referred to his family before, and she wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass. “What happened to her?”
The Main Street lamps washed over his face as they rode through downtown. His mouth tightened, and a haunted look settled over his features. She was suddenly sorry she’d asked.
“Car accident.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
She wanted to know more. What about his dad? Where had his grandparents been? Why did he end up in foster care, and how old was he when it happened? But she didn’t exactly deserve answers to her personal questions. She’d accused him of sabotage, had barely spoken to him in the past five weeks.
“So did they give you meds or something?” he asked.
“I have to make an appointment with an endocrinologist.” And she was opening in three days. Three days. She still had to purchase food, pick up her menus, finish training the staff, and proof the ad for Friday’s paper. “I don’t have time for this.”
“You don’t have time to ignore it.”
“I know. It’s just bad timing.” They passed the gas station. “Hey, your truck.”
“I’ll get it tomorrow.”
When they reached the house, she followed him up the path. A cricket chirped nearby, going silent as they passed. The porch was dark, and the door creaked as Cole opened it. The big old house was quiet. The smells of paint and polish lingered in the air. He flipped on the light while she locked up behind them.
“Night,” he said, heading toward the stairs.
“Good night.” PJ watched him go, his loose gait now familiar and somehow reassuring. “Hey,” she called quietly.
He turned halfway up, his hand resting on the mahogany rail.
“Thanks for taking me tonight.”
He studied her a minute, his eyes dark and unfathomable in the shadows. There was so much she didn’t know about him. Despite her initial plan to draw him out, he was more of an enigma now than when he’d moved in.
“No problem.”
He turned and continued climbing, leaving PJ to wonder what secrets those eyes held and if she would ever get to the bottom of them.
Cole turned over in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling. PJ’s question had stirred memories better forgotten. And no matter how much he tried to push them back down, they surfaced relentlessly.
Some people lost their memory of the moments leading up to an accident. He only wished his mind had been so generous.
No, he remembered every detail. Every word. Every expression that had ghosted over his mom’s face. And he remembered everything leading up to that awful night.
It had been a bad week all the way around. On Monday his baseball game had been rained out halfway through the third inning. He’d been pitching so well, and they’d been in the lead 4–0 against their biggest rival. His mom was on a business trip and his dad was working, so he’d had to walk home in the pouring rain. At twelve he was old enough now.
When he rounded the bend he was glad to see his dad’s car in the drive. Cole could tell him how well he’d pitched. His dad liked it when he played well, even if he always did see some way Cole could’ve done better. Cole told himself that was why he’d improved so much. Why he’d made the All-Star team three years running. Why he’d been drafted up early this season.
The lights were off when he entered the house. The TV light flickered, but a scan of the living room told him his dad wasn’t watching the ESPN highlights on the screen. He heard a woman’s laughter down the hallway.
His mom was home early. He hadn’t seen her car, but she parked in the garage. Noelle must still be at daycare because if she were home, she’d be wrapped around his rain-soaked leg, begging for a pony ride.
He followed the voices into the hallway. He hadn’t seen his mom in three days and was surprised she hadn’t gone straight to his game. She was always in the stands cheering for him.
The bedroom door was cracked open, and he was glad because if it were shut, he’d have to go away. He knew what his parents were doing when they locked the door. Jared Parker had filled him in two years ago. He hadn’t wanted to believe
it, but his other friends had confirmed it. Now every time his parents shut the door, he wished Jared Parker had kept his big fat mouth shut.
He heard his dad’s laughter now, his voice rumbling low. He was in a good mood. Cole smiled as he approached the door. It had been awhile since he’d seen Dad smile, much less laugh. It was a good time to tell him about the game.
Cole pushed the door, and it fell silently open. His eyes settled on the bed, where two figures were tangled beneath the sheets. He stopped in his tracks as his mom’s laughter drifted to him, and he thought belatedly that he should close his eyes. Quick.
But then he saw the black hair spread across the pillow. Saw the long, tapered fingers running up his dad’s bare back. The bright red nails curling into Dad’s short hair.
He spun and hurried down the hall, careful not to make a sound. His skin felt hot and tight, and his stomach felt like it did on Halloween when he plowed through his bucket of candy.
He went out the front door, into the drizzle, and around back where no one would see him. He scrambled behind the air-conditioning unit and slid down the wall until he was tucked into a ball. Tugging his ball cap lower, he closed his eyes and went someplace else. To the ball diamond where he was on the mound, where his mom was in the stands watching him pitch, and his dad was at work, exactly where he was supposed to be.
“W
HY AREN
’
T YOU PLAYING
?” J
ADE SETTLED NEXT TO
PJ
AT
the picnic table and began picking at the leftover brownies.