Mrs. Harlow was still in the uniform she wore at the Royal Diner. I looked twice at the little boy in too short pajamas rubbing his eyes at her side and realized with a start that he was Jacob Harlow. Willa's baby brother Jakey was a kid now. How old was he? Seven? Eight? His hand sure looked better than it did when he was a toddler.
I stood up as soon as they came into the waiting area, but Mrs. Harlow's eyes slid right over me and landed on a passing nurse. "My daughter? We got a call that she was here? Willa Harlow?" Her eyes were red-rimmed, but no tears were falling. I got the feeling that she was holding it together for the little boy.
"Yes, her fiancé brought her in."
"Fiancé?" Mrs. Harlow's head whipped past me again as she scanned the room for the phantom fiancé.
Slowly, sheepishly I raised my hand. "That's me." I tried to smile. "Hey."
"Cooper Grant?" Her mouth fell open. "You and Willa are..?"
"I found her on the side of the road," I interrupted, intentionally derailing her train of thought. "She was unconscious, but woke up in the ambulance for a second and recognized me." And swore at me, I didn't add. I looked over to see that the nurse was finding things to do that kept her within earshot and chose my words carefully. "I've been talking with the doctors, she's got a head injury, definitely a concussion, and will probably need some pins in her wrist, but she's okay, Mrs. Harlow."
She sagged when I said that, then stumbled a little, her confusion over who I was to her daughter forgotten in her relief she was alive. I caught her up and hugged her, and she squeezed me in a surprisingly strong embrace. "Thank God you were there," she babbled. "Thank God."
Thank God. Another wave of gut-cramping guilt washed over me, and it was only Mrs. Harlow's grip on me that kept me from turning and sprinting back to Willa's room just to check on her one more time. Touching her, checking her breathing, feeling her pulse, had almost become a compulsion, and having her out of my sight - even though she was mere feet away on the other side of the wall - had my heart racing with anxiety.
But I said nothing, only patted Mrs. Harlow's back and then rubbed my hand in what I hoped were soothing, future-son-in-law worthy circles. The lie I'd told to stay with Willa during the ambulance ride had snowballed out of control once we arrived at the hospital. It was like a game of telephone at light speed, passing so fast I couldn't stop it. Every person who told the story seemed to add yet another embellishing detail that I could barely keep up with. People were coming up to me out of nowhere, wanting to talk to the tragic hero who'd saved his fiancée’s life and now refused to leave her side.
I pulled back from the hug and nodded at Mrs. Harlow. "It's okay," I declared, because that seemed like a neutral enough thing to say. I'd explain later, I reasoned. I was in too deep to start backtracking now. "Could you come with me though?"
She nodded, looking shell-shocked, then glanced down at Jakey, whose exhausted, worried face looked so much like his sister's. "I'll watch him," I promised. Like any good son-in-law would, I figured. "If you could just talk to the detective?"
Mrs. Harlow stumbled in the direction of the detective assigned to Willa's case.
When he first arrived, he'd made a beeline towards me wanting to know all about the fight that had led her to storm away from me and down a dark road. I was relieved when he'd accepted my stammered protests that I could barely even remember anymore, "It seems so stupid now, you know?" but then found myself tripping over the simple stuff. "Where does she work?" I wracked my brain. "Part-time at the cafe," I declared triumphantly. "Because she has to be home when her brother gets home from school. She's a really devoted big sister." And to my numb surprise, I'd smiled when I said it, feeling a rush of proud affection for her for the very first time.
But after that initial triumph, I tripped up on simple things. Her height. "Five three? Maybe?" Her weight. "Tiny?" Her eye color. "Brown... ish?" So when her mother showed up, I was relieved to hand off those questions to someone who'd know for sure. So I could go back to waiting for her to get out of surgery. Waiting for her to wake up. Waiting for a moment where I could get her alone so I could confess my lies, my guilt. And she could maybe forgive me?
I sat back down and cradled my head in my hands, ready to settle in for the duration. I looked at Jakey and smiled wanly, but he was half asleep, slumped into one of the hard plastic chairs in a position that only a kid could find comfortable. He was resting his good hand over the scarred one, I noticed. Like he was hiding it from me. Which made sense since as far as he knew I was a stranger. But that wasn’t quite true. “Seven," I blurted.
He stirred. "Hmm?"
"You're seven years old, right?"
He shook his head tiredly. “Eight. And three quarters.”
"I remember when you were born," I heard myself say.
He blinked. Politeness won out over his confusion and he sat up a little. "Cool." He made eye contact - the kind of eye contact Willa always made, the kind she demanded, and I always avoided because I knew it pissed her off - for a second, but it was two in the morning and he was still a little kid. His eyes closed even as he was sitting upright, and when his head started to bob, I dragged myself up out of my numb stupor just in time to catch it before he cracked it on the back of his chair.
"Here you go." I guided him as he snuffled sleepily until he was propped against the cold metal armrest.
I watched him for a minute as his breathing settled into a regular rhythm and his clenched hands relaxed, then let go of each other, and I couldn’t help but sneak a look at his left hand. From this angle, it didn’t look all that different from his right one except for the color. But the way the fingers curled, how they were permanently frozen like he was making a clawing motion. That was hard to hide.
I swallowed, then looked around, feeling guilty that I had nothing to pillow his head with. His mom might, in her bag or something - moms always seemed to have that shit available - but she was still back with the doctors.
I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them again immediately before sleep could take hold. You promised.
I took another look at Willa's sleeping brother. His skin was darker than her paleness, but they both had the same long fringe of dark lashes. Something unfamiliar was happening in my chest. A tugging. Like I was being pulled but from all directions. I needed to stay here with Jakey because I promised Willa's mother I would watch him. But I also needed to know what was happening behind those doors. Was she okay? How badly was she hurt? Would she heal properly? Or would she always have pain from this?
Pain she could have avoided if I'd just given her a fucking ride home. As promised.
I turned, paced a tight circle and then slumped against the wall. The minutes ticked by, slowly. Slow enough that I had time to examine every moment of this hellish night in minute detail. The rain, the corn... the white shape on the side of the road. The stained pink hoodie, the blood on her cheek.
The way she had woken and demanded to know what I was doing.
What was I doing? I had no idea. All I knew was that I was here for the duration. Until it was done. Until I could see that she was okay. Until I’d kept my promise.
An unseen clock ticked. A nurse padded by on quick quiet feet. Jake snuffled again, then mumbled something in his sleep. But all I heard was the voice in my head, apologizing over and over again.
Shit, Willa. I am so, so sorry.
Chapter