| |
Franny dreamed of him. It was mid-summer again, with all the leaves and flowers in full bloom, and she and Heath walked hand in hand on the beach. The waves rolled in and touched their bare toes, and they laughed and kissed and watched seagulls swoop in the sky. Far in the distance, church bells pealed, celebrating a wedding or a baptism, something joyous, and Heath turned to listen.
“Never heard that before.”
“Really? They play all the time. Whenever something good is happening.”
At that, his face darkened. “Not much good happens when you’re at war.”
“But you’re not at war. You’re home. You’re here.”
He didn’t answer. He just kept staring at the steeple in the distance, and the more Franny tugged at his hand, the louder the church bells rang, as if they were trying to drown out her thoughts.
Or as if they were in the room with her.
Franny sat straight up. On the floor beside her, Bud was whining. He nosed her leg, and she realized in half-sleep that her phone was ringing. Not church bells. Not a dream. Her phone, here and now. She grabbed it. Three missed calls, two from Chloe and one from a number she didn’t recognize. Before she could punch the Redial button, Chloe sent a text.
Call me when you get this. Dad is hurt bad. He’s in a hospital near Boston.
She went cold. Sweat broke out across her forehead and down her back, and she flung off the sheets. Hurt bad? How bad? Her hands shook so much she could barely hold the phone. She managed to dial.
“Franny?”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know everything.” The girl’s voice broke. “Someone called really late last night and talked to my mom. He got jumped or something. By a gang.”
“He was living in Boston?”
“I guess.” Small sobs from Chloe’s end of the line.
“It’s okay. I’m on my way. Do you know what hospital?”
“Yes, I think, but –” Chloe went away from the phone. “I’ll have to ask Mom and then text you.”
“Is she going?”
“I don’t know. I think so. I want her to take me.”
Franny was already out of her nightgown and into the bathroom. The sun hadn’t yet started to rise. “Then I’ll see you there.” She tossed her phone onto the counter and took a two-minute shower. No time to do her hair or makeup. She threw on a pair of jeans and a bright yellow shirt, pulled her wet hair into a ponytail knowing she’d regret it later, and practically ran through the kitchen.
She hadn’t asked Chloe how bad it was. She wouldn’t be able to keep her car on the road if all she did was picture Heath bleeding or unconscious or in a coma or worse.
Bud followed her to the front door. “You can’t come with me. I’m sorry.” She sent Aubrey a quick text. At least she had no guests arriving until tomorrow. She hadn’t finished cleaning the third floor rooms, but at this point she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything except seeing Heath again.
Bud jumped up and down, whining louder. He couldn’t know where she was going or why. Yet his agitation grew the longer they stood there, until finally Franny opened the front door and waved him outside. “You won’t be able to see him when we get to the hospital,” she called after him. Bud was already waiting at the passenger side of the car, tongue lolling from his mouth.
“All right, you stubborn thing, get in.” The animal had saved Heath before. He’d rescued Heath from nightmares and chased his anxiety away. Franny didn’t know what she’d find at the hospital, but maybe a cold nose from Bud could work miracles again. She supposed it didn’t hurt to hope.
###
HEATH COULDN’T MOVE his legs. He could make out voices above him, figures around him, but he couldn’t move his damn legs. Or his left arm. Afghanistan? Army hospital? Where the hell was he? He didn’t recognize any of the faces around him. His heart rate escalated as he tried to make sense of the strangeness, until a beeping sound caused a flurry of activity in the room. Someone dressed in white bent over him, and a second later, heaviness closed his eyes again, and he drifted to sleep.
This time he dreamed. He was walking on a beach with a black dog beside him. Every so often he’d throw a stick, and the dog would run to fetch it. Far in the distance he could make out the tops of buildings and a few cars driving by. He was alone, but not lonely. He was walking toward something. Toward someone. The wind blew and carried in the smell of sea and pine trees and something else.
Vanilla.
Not vanilla perfume, like so many women wore these days, but actual vanilla flavoring, like from a bakery. His mouth watered, and he walked faster.
“Heath?”
The dog caught up to him with the stick in its hand. Its cold nose pressed against Heath’s leg, and he jumped.
I felt that.
“Heath?” Someone took his hand.
Everything hurt now, his feet and his head and his back and muscles and tendons he never knew he’d had. He wanted to open his eyes, but bright light seared through the lids. The hand in his squeezed hard. Heath squeezed back. He could smell the vanilla again, close by and stronger, and suddenly he wanted to sink into deep sleep and savor it. He didn’t need to wake up. No reason. Everything he needed was here, warmth and quiet and the sounds and scents of a place he loved. Waking up meant returning to a world filled with anger and hate and hurt. Even in his dreams he knew that.
“Is he waking up?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s happening?”
“Get a nurse.”
I’m here, he wanted to say. I’m just resting for a little while. Someone had told him a long time ago to stop fighting. Maybe he needed to take that advice.
“I need you to move back.”
“Give us some space.”
“I don’t want to let go,” someone said. A someone he knew. A voice he recognized.
Heath opened his eyes.
###
“I DON’T REMEMBER ANYTHING after I hit the first guy.”
Franny sat next to Heath’s bed and held his hand tightly. A police officer stood at the end of the bed, taking notes.
“Were there three? I think there were three.”
The officer nodded.
“And Jason.”
Another nod, smaller this time.
“How is he?”
“Not sure. In a room down the hall. I can find out for you.”
Franny stroked the back of Heath’s hand. Beside her, Bud sat with his chin on his paws. One kind nurse had winked and looked the other way when Franny brought him in. He hadn’t made a sound since shoving his nose under Heath’s palm and shaking with pleasure at their reunion.
“They belonged to a gang?” Franny asked. “These three – men?” She didn’t want to call them that. They didn’t deserve to be called that. They were animals, not men. It seemed surreal, all of it.
“I don’t know. I think maybe. I saw tattoos...” Heath’s voice, thick and groggy, sounded like he was under water.
“This happens a lot down in that area, unfortunately,” the officer said. “Most guys don’t fight back. Usually they get a good jump, an’ the guy’s got no chance.” He turned back to Heath. “You did some damage, son. To all three of ‘em, and with one of ‘em having a gun, I’ll tell you what, that’s not an easy feat. Won’t be any charges pressed, though. I can tell you that much. It’ll be self-defense, one hundred percent.”
The officer made a few more notes and then patted Heath’s foot. “Think I’ve got all I need from you.”
He left, and they were alone in the room. Chloe and Beth waited outside in the hall.
Heath turned his head on the pillow. His left cheek was swollen, the eye almost closed. “You came,” he said.
“Of course I came. As soon as Chloe told me.”
He tightened his fingers in hers. Beside him, machines still beeped, and tubes and wires snaked beneath the blankets, leading to who knew where. Franny didn’t want to look too closely at the bruises on his face and jaw. Shattered pelvis from a gunshot and a broken arm from defensive wounds, the doctor had said. Heath’s bottom lip puffed out. His left eyebrow was split. But when those dark blue eyes caught hers, everything they’d argued about went away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For fighting.”
“Why?” Tears clogged her throat. “You did the right thing.”
“You said I wasn’t supposed to fight my way through life.”
She managed to smile. “I guess I did say that. But I never said you shouldn’t fight for the things that really mattered. You stood up for someone who couldn’t stand up for himself. You were fighting someone who could have killed him. And you. It was the right thing to do.” The thought almost destroyed her. He could have died.
She would have died, if that had happened.
“I thought of you. The whole time I was out here.” With effort, he lifted himself onto one elbow. “No one’s ever done the things for me that you did. No one trusted me, let me into their life the way you did.”
Her heart filled up with words she wanted to say, but they caught in her throat.
“Is it too late? Are you with him?”
“With who?”
“Will. From the magazine.”
“Oh, no. Hell, no.”
Even with his damaged face, he looked shocked. “Hell? Franny, what happened to you in the last three weeks? You never swear.”
She ran a hand over her brow. Her hair had fallen from its ponytail and fell limply onto her shoulders. “There’s a lot of things I never did until I met you.”
“I hope most of them are good.”
She leaned over and touched her lips to his. “They’re all good.”
“Even the swearing?”
She whispered something dirty in his ear and then sat back in the chair. “What do you think?”
“I think if I wasn’t hooked up to all these machines right now, I’d have you in this bed and those clothes on the ground.”
Bud looked up and woofed.
“It’s okay, boy.” She patted him on the head. They both laughed.
“God, I love you.”
She wanted to burst. Despite the tubes and wires and his arm in a cast, she crawled onto the bed next to him. “I love you too.”
“Can we start over?” He ran his good hand over her hair.
“I don’t know,” she said into his chest. He smelled of disinfectant and soap. “I don’t think I want to.” His hand stopped moving, and she leaned up to look at him. “You made me a different person this summer. A better, braver person.”
“I don’t think I can take all the credit for that. Transformations did one hell of a job.”
“No. They just changed the outside. Clothes, hair, paint, whatever.” She rested her cheek on his arm, the strong dark tattoo of a coiled snake just below her left eye. “You changed the inside. I thought I loved people before,” she said into his skin. “And then I met you.” She’d never dreamed that one single person could change her life.
They lay there silent for a few moments. “I’d like to go back with you,” he said quietly. “To the Hideaway.”
“I’d like that too.” Franny kissed him. All she would ever want and need lay here with this man, complications and anger and demons be damned. Everyone had them. With enough love, everyone could conquer them. She knew that more certainly than anything she’d ever known before.
“I think maybe we should call it something else, though,” she said. She didn’t need to hide from anything anymore. Neither did he. “Something bold and brave.”
Heath smiled and pulled her closer. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”