Chapter 15

 A Little Breather 

I stood at the window of the hospital waiting room a couple of hours later. In the background, a listless TV droned a news report. The quiet bustle of the hospital provided a soothing medical landscape. I sank into the familiarity again with relief.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

A light tap on the door startled me. Mom filled the doorway wearing scrub pants and a plain t-shirt. Her badge hung from a lanyard around her neck.

“Hey,” I said, turning around. “What are you doing here?”

“Just stopping by really quick to say hi. Mark texted me. I’m filling in at the ICU tonight. Where’s Troy?”

“Went to surgery twenty minutes ago. Justin left to grab us some food. Are you all right?” I peered closer. What I originally thought was a ponytail was actually a short bob, cropped close to her head. Feather-like brunette strands lay in wisps around her face. “Did you … did you cut off your hair?”

A wan smile crossed her lips.

“I did. You know what they say about a haircut making everything better? Well, that’s kind of a lie. But I thought I’d try it out.”

I blinked, unable to remember the last time I’d seen Mom without her usual locks. I couldn’t recall a single instance.

“Wow.”

She ran her fingers through it. “Do you like it?”

“I just … I mean, yes. It’s beautiful.”

“You seem shocked.”

“I am. I’ve never seen your hair shorter than your shoulders.”

She folded herself into a nearby chair. “I thought it was time for a change.”

“Do you like it?”

She shrugged. “Cuts down prep time by thirty minutes. But then, I have to wash it every day. Not that it’s difficult or anything, but it’s one more thing to do.”

She didn’t answer my question.

“How is work?” I asked.

“Slow tonight. But that’s a good thing.”

A span of silence hummed between us while I debated whether or not I should ask about her and Dad. She decided before I could ask.

“So … I wasn’t sure if I should tell you, but … your father and I are taking a little breather,” she said. A hint of tears misted her eyes, thickening her voice. My breath caught.

“When?”

“Started last week.”

Why didn’t you tell us? I wanted to ask but swallowed it back. “What does a little breather mean?” I asked instead.

She held up a hand. “Nothing final or anything. We just decided to try officially living apart even though we’re not around each other much anymore. Our therapist suggested it. I’ve been hesitating, but we’ve tried everything else.”

“Is it … is it helping?”

Desperation tainted my voice. Mom squeezed my hand.

“I don’t know. The therapist assures us that these things take time…” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I don’t know.”

To my surprise—and relief—she didn’t weep or wilt into a pile of regret. She sat there, staring at the floor. A flicker of hope rose from the depths of my fear. The D word hadn’t quite entered the picture yet. There was still hope. As much as I hated it, I clung to it, that traitorous, slippery emotion.

“Do you have a place to stay?” I asked.

“I’m at the house. He’s … somewhere in the old trailer.”

Dad’s clunky, rusted trailer was his pride and joy. It smelled like fish and creaked with every small gust of wind, but he adored it.

Another silence filled the space between us. This time I let it ride, too focused on my own questions to care. In the end, what could I say? Justin had been right; this wasn’t my fight. As much as I wanted it to be.

“Keep me updated, will you?” I finally asked.

“Of course.”

“Okay, so, I went to Subway because—”

Justin stopped mid-stride, holding a plastic bag and a drink container. His gaze fell first on my mother, half-hiccupping from forcing her tears back, and then on me. No doubt I looked confused. Or frightened. Or some odd conglomeration of both. His eyes widened. He stepped back.

“Uh, sorry. I didn’t—”

Mom stood up. “Hello there, Justin!” she said, wiping the last vestiges of tears from her cheeks with a smile. “It’s always wonderful to see you. Are you still keeping track of my troublesome boys? They’re a handful. Don’t I know it!”

“Of course, Mrs. Bailey. Your haircut looks great.”

She touched the nape of her neck. “Oh. Thank you. It’s a bit shorter than I like. I hate it, actually.”

He held up a Subway bag. “Fortunately for you, I brought the fix-all to your problems.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

He rifled through the bag and pulled out a second paper bag. “Cookies. But not just cookies. Chocolate chip. They fix everything.”

Mom laughed, restoring a sense of youth to her countenance. “Thank you,” she said, accepting one. “I think you must be right.”

He motioned to me with a jerk of his head. “Thank Megan. You’re eating one of hers.”

“Well, I better head out,” Mom said. “Thanks so much, Meg, for listening. And Justin, the biggest thanks goes to you for fixing all my problems with this fantastic cookie.”

“Anytime, Mrs. Bailey.”

Mom reached down and squeezed my shoulder. “Love you.”

Justin and I stared at each other until the sound of my mother’s shoes faded away. He pulled in a deep breath, sat in the chair next to mine, and tossed the remaining cookies onto my lap.

“Start with a cookie,” he said. “You look like you could use it.”

That evening, Mark and I stood just inside the tiny medical cabin, tucked away in the trees behind the lodge. Late shadows moved across the floor. A cot, a desk for charting, and a random assortment of cupboards filled the cabin. The smell of hand sanitizer permeated the room.

“So … being the medical officer is pretty straightforward,” he said, glancing around. “You’ve handled the most complicated patients already. The daily splinters and bloody knees shouldn’t be too difficult.”

I pulled open a few drawers, rifling through the contents. Mark swung a loop of keys around his index finger. After I finished perusing the cupboards, I nodded.

“Should be easy enough,” I said.

Mark gave me a half-smile. “Look, I know I’m asking a lot. Running the kitchen and medical will be tricky sometimes, but most of the issues here are minor. We have to have a licensed person on staff, and you have a crap ton of certifications, right?”

If he only knew.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Great. I’ve talked to the program staff, and they’ve promised to help out at mealtimes if needed.”

I held out a hand. “I get a radio, right?”

He handed me Troy’s old radio with a grin. “Obviously. Just, uh, keep it with you all the time. Like sleep, bathroom, exercise, kitchen. Oh, and no more weekday trips to Pineville.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “I’m on camp arrest?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

“You gotta stay here when campers are present. I will not lose this place because of litigation. I’ve basically sacrificed myself to it like the Old Testament.”

“Are you going to stop calling me little blister now?”

He snorted. “Fat chance. You are the blister. Listen, I gotta go do a quick camp inspection, make sure no one smuggled firecrackers in. By the way, have you seen my clipboard?”

After the long day—and the exhausting conversation with Mom—I didn’t think I had any energy left to smile, but a glimmer of amusement took me by surprise. Way to go, Hollis and Sione.

“Nope.”

He muttered a swear word under his breath as he turned to leave, eyes darting all over the cabin. “Could have sworn—”

“Hey, Mark?”

He stopped and turned around. In the dim light, he looked just like Dad.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what’s going on with Mom and Dad right now?”

The playful expression on his face faded. His pond-water eyes seemed to collect the shadows in the room. For a brief moment, I thought I saw in him the same ache I felt.

“What do you mean?”

Our eyes locked, as if we could ascertain how much the other one knew by visual assessment. Mark was the older of the twins and bore the responsibility of the eldest sibling in every regard.

“You know, don’t you?” I asked.

He started to leave again. “Don’t be crazy, Meg. They’re fine.”

“They’re not fine.”

He stopped halfway out the door, shoulders tight.

“Whatever is happening between them has nothing to do with us, okay?” he said. “Just let them figure it out.”

I started forward. “Mark, it’s getting worse. They’re living apart now. It doesn’t make sense.” I pressed a hand to my forehead. “How can they just fall out of love? Can you at least tell me what you know?”

He shook his head with an exasperated sigh. A tight edge cut through his voice. “Let it go, Meg.”

“Mark!”

“What?”

“Talk to me about this. Please? Mom asked me not to talk to anyone about it. But I can’t hold it in anymore. I’m not sure how much JJ knows, but I know you must know something already. Please?”

He hesitated, pinning me with his stare. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

I folded my arms across my middle, fending off a sudden chill. Outside, darkness had started to fall in earnest, coating the world in deepening shadows. I thought I wanted answers, but now that he’d offered them, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was plunging deeper into the rabbit hole.

“When did you find out they were having problems?” I asked.

He swallowed. “A year ago Dad and I went fishing. He seemed quieter than usual and really distracted.”

I scoffed. He must have been almost comatose. Dad didn’t speak much even when he had something to say.

“He told you then?” I asked.

“I asked him about it. I’d noticed that things seemed weird. They didn’t talk much. Mom kept texting me to ask the most random questions. That kind of stuff.”

“What did he say?”

“That things had been strained between them after Mom started the flight-nurse job at St. John’s. But he said they’d work through it.” He threw his hands in the air. “And here we are.”

“Was it this bad then?”

He shrugged. “Not sure. I was caught in the middle of it for a while, but that only made things worse, so I’ve left it alone. It’s not our business.”

“Why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“It’s not exactly something to talk about over the phone. I figured the day would come when they’d decide and everyone would know then. Why burden you with it sooner? There was a chance they’d figure it out.”

My heart squeezed as if he’d just wrapped it in barbed wire and it still had to beat. He put a hand on my shoulder, shaking me lightly.

“I’m sorry, Meg. Nothing can save them but them. Trust me. I’ve tried.”

Tears filled my eyes. I felt filleted open, as vulnerable as an injured two-year-old seeking reassurances. Justin had said the same thing, but it didn’t feel any better coming from Mark.

“But what if they decide it’s not worth saving? What about us?”

He reached out and pulled me into a warm hug, just like when I was a little girl. Tears dribbled down my cheeks.

“Then that’s what they decide,” he whispered. “And we’ll always have each other. We’ll have them, too. Just not in the same way.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I know.”

I squeezed him as hard as I could. When I pulled away, he ruffled my hair. “Keep your chin up. JJ and I won’t go anywhere, all right?”

I nodded.

“You’re a good blister,” he said with a brief, jaunty grin. “A pain, but a good pain.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Mark.”

With a wink, he ducked away, fading into the emerald foliage with little more than the whisper of his feet on the trail. I didn’t feel better. The deepening fear in my chest seemed to swallow the last of my hope. Although Mark hadn’t said it, I’d seen it in his eyes.

He didn’t believe they’d work it out.