experiencing a mix of emotions—closure and anticipation of something new. The finalization of her recipe book became a moment of profound significance, a bridge between the realm of imagination and the tangible reality of completed work. This event marked both the completion of her book and the acknowledgment of the strength and dedication required to make her dream a reality. Nicole sat, head resting on the back of the dining room chair, eyes closed, taking cleansing breaths. She would wait to share the news with Aubrey and her family during dinner on Saturday.
Nicole reached for her phone to add an appointment to her calendar when Cameron’s mom’s name popped up on her screen with an incoming call.
“Hello, Ms. Davis,” Nicole greeted.
“Nicole, sweetie, is that you?” Ms. Davis’ voice was low, barely recognizable.
“Yes, ma’am, are you okay?” Nicole could hear the cracking of her voice.
“I’m okay, but… but…”
Nicole could hear her sniffles through the phone. “But, what? Ms. Davis?” Nicole’s accelerated heartbeat caused her to breathe in through her nose, then letting out air through her mouth.
Voice trembling, Ms. Davis said, “It’s Cameron. He was in a work accident.”
“What?” Did Nicole hear Ms. Davis correctly? “What do you mean?”
“He was on a call.” Ms. Davis now sounding more in control. The fire engulfed a high-rise building. The fire compromised the building's structure. The floor wasn’t stable where Cameron was and he fell several floors down.”
Nicole felt the blood drain from her face. “Is he okay? What’s his condition?”
“He’s critical, but stable. He broke several bones. He had some internal bleeding, but we believe surgery corrected that.” Ms. Davis sniffed.
Nicole considered Ms. Davis’ words. Afraid to ask but knowing she needed to know, Nicole asked, “What does that mean, Ms. Davis?”
“It means he’s unconscious, resting, out of surgery, and now we wait.”
“Surgery? Is he going to be okay?” Now plagued with erratic possibilities of losing Cameron without reconciling, telling him she was in love with him, Nicole could do nothing but wait for Ms. Davis’ response.
“The doctors said his physical strength and health saved him. We still have some challenges ahead. We have to wait,” she explained.
“Ms. Davis? I don’t know what to say.” Nicole at that moment thought she would lose her mind. The man she was in love with was unconscious in the hospital.
“My son loves you, Nicole. He doesn’t communicate well, but I know my son,” Patricia admitted.
“Ms. Davis, where is he? How are you doing? Can I come to the hospital?” Nicole needed to be close to him.
“I’m okay. I felt you should know. He’s at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.”
“Thank you, Ms. Davis. I’ll be there soon.”
When Nicole arrived at the hospital, she found Ms. Davis in a chair next to Cameron, holding his hand, her head back, eyes closed. She entered the room and stood at the foot of Cameron’s bed. He was hooked up to machines, breathing through an oxygen tube. His skin was pale, face unshaven. He looked as if he was sleeping. A heaviness settled into Nicole’s legs as she approached the hospital bed. The site of Cameron lying there, confined by sterile white sheets and beeping monitors, cast a shadow over her. She wanted to be a pillar of strength for Cameron and Ms. Davis.
“Nicole? You’re here,” Ms. Davis said as she tried to stand to embrace her.
“Ms. Davis? Please sit.” Nicole walked to Ms. Davis and bent down to hug her. The two women held their embrace in silence, the weight of the circumstances holding them still. Nicole felt the fear in their hug. The uncertainty of Cameron’s outcome. They both knew challenges of healing were ahead, doubt becoming a formidable adversary, infiltrating the space where confidence and assurance should live.
“Do you want me to get you some coffee or food?” Nicole knew Ms. Davis had not left Cameron’s side.
With a sigh, Ms. Davis replied, “No, not right now.”
“Is there anyone I can call for you?” Knowing their family was small, Nicole still asked.
“No, not right now. It’s just Cameron and I, you know. I have notified his friends. They all agreed to stay away until he was awake.” Ms. Davis held up her phone, giving it a wave. “I have them in a group text. To give them updates.”
Nicole moved over to the empty chair on the other side of the bed. She put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. As Nicole worked to keep her tears in check, there was a poignant vulnerability in her efforts. It wasn’t just the physical act of keeping from crying, but the strength required to manage the depth of her emotions. Amongst the familiar, a nuanced blend of recognition and reflection emerged. Tyler was gone by the time she reached the hospital. Cameron was alive, breathing, and returned to life. She knew she had to relish in this and focus her thoughts and prayers on Cameron’s healing. She stood, knelt to kiss his forehand, then stroked his cheek with a feathery touch.
“Nicole? Why don’t we go get some coffee in the cafeteria, okay?” Ms. Davis gave her a warm smile, reaching for Nicole’s hand as they exited Cameron’s room.
Ms. Davis got a coffee and a grilled cheese on sourdough bread. Nicole just ordered coffee. They found an empty table towards the back of the cafeteria.
“I don’t feel like eating much, but I know I have to. I think this is my first meal of the day,” Ms. Davis said as she bit into her sandwich.
“I understand. Keep your strength up. You don’t want to make yourself sick. Do you have your blood pressure pill?” Nicole wanted to be sure Ms. Davis took care of herself.
“Yes. I take one pill a day. I took one yesterday.” Ms. Davis reached into her purse to pull out a pillbox. She retrieved a pill and swallowed it with a sip of her coffee.
“Nicole? I believe, in my heart, Cameron will be fine. He’ll be fine, but it will take some time.” Ms. Davis reached across the table and placed her hand over Nicole’s.
“I have to believe you, Ms. Davis,” Nicole said, giving Ms. Davis’ hand a squeeze.
“I know you and Cameron haven’t been seeing each other. He cares for you more than you may realize. He would want you to be here.”
Nicole stared at her and Ms. Davis’ combined hands, finding strength in them, enough to say, “Thank you, Ms. Davis. I want to be here too.”
The women sat in silence, no words, just deep in thought. Ms. Davis finished her sandwich, and they both sipped on their cups of coffee.
“Do you mind if I take a break while you’re here, dear? There are things I must take care of before I come back later tonight.”
“Of course. I’ll sit with Cameron.” Nicole couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
The women said their goodbyes and Nicole headed back upstairs to sit with Cameron. Her heart ached. She missed him. She wished they had been in communication all these months. She couldn't bear to witness him in such a state. Needing to share the news with her family, Nicole pulled out her phone, created a group text with her parents, Levi, and Aubrey, and began moving her fingers to write a message.
Nicole held the phone to her chest, closed her eyes, and sighed. She looked over at Cameron. The room was silent, except for the machines and monitors working their magic to keep Cameron on the road to healing. She took his hand and held it and took him in. He remained handsome and strong, a beautiful man. She didn’t understand what happened between them, but she knew she wanted to be near him, to help him through this. Nicole moved the chair closer to the bed. With his hand in hers, she clutched it and laid her head down across his chest to be close to him.
At 7:30, Ms. Davis returned wearing fresh clothes, carrying a lunch bag, an enormous bottle of water, and a coffee mug.
“Nicole, honey? You look exhausted. I’ll sit with Cameron. You go home, dear.”
Nicole nodded, then asked, “Ms. Davis? Will you call me if anything changes?”
Ms. Davis looked into Nicole’s eyes. Seeing the sincerity and hope in them, she responded, “Of course, dear.”
Unsure how she drove to her parents’ house, Nicole was just glad to be there. Her dad greeted her with a hug, and then her mom.
“Nicole, are you okay?” Jeannette asked, rubbing her back to soothe her.
“Yes, I’m okay. My heart is so heavy, though.”
“I know it is,” Jeannette said, offering an understanding of what her daughter was going through.
Jeannette knew Nicole had not eaten. “Are you hungry? I can make you some food.”
“No, Mom. I’m okay.” Nicole didn’t feel like eating.
Nicole followed her mom to the kitchen and sat on the stool to watch her mother make some tea.
Walter walked over to Nicole, giving her a kiss on the forehead, then said, “I’ll leave you two alone.”
Nicole put her head down onto her folded arms, resting on the counter.
Jeannette glanced over at her daughter, then said, “I know what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking, Mom?” Nicole said, head still down.
“You’re thinking about Tyler and whether Cameron is going to be okay.”
Nicole looked up, studying her mother’s face, waiting for her next words.
“Your thoughts revolve around finding a way through this,” Jeannette consoled Nicole with her words.
Nicole opened her mouth to speak, but words didn’t come out.
“Do you love him, Nicole?” Jeannette asked, already knowing the answer.
“Mom? I know I care for him.” Nicole didn’t want to admit to her mom she loved Cameron. Despite the complicated emotions stirring within her, she recognized the need to navigate the landscape of her feelings alone.
“Go into the living room. I’ll be in with our tea,” Jeannette said, giving her daughter a warm and what she hoped to be a comforting smile. Nicole rose from her seat and carried herself to the living room couch. She gripped the warm mug her mother gave her and took a sip of tea. The warm liquid coated her throat and warmed her insides.
Jeannette sat next to her daughter on the couch and took a sip of her own tea before talking. “Nicole, I’m going to share something with you I never shared with you or Levi.”
Nicole glanced at her mom, settled on the couch, sipped her tea, and waited for her mom to speak.
“I must have been about twenty-two when I met Peter. Peter was a handsome man. We met at the bowling alley one Friday night. He was there with his friends. I was there with my friends. By the end of the night, we were all sharing food and bowling together. It was a great time. Peter and I began dating after that night. We were always together. Our families got along.” Jeannette looked through the glass doors, appearing to be in thought. Nicole looked at her mom, seeing she was playing this vision out in her head, eyes not blinking.
“Peter and I dated for about a year and a half. We were making plans for marriage. We finished college and were planning our lives together. One Friday night, Peter was at the house. We were watching movies. We both fell asleep on the couch. Waking up around 2:30 am, he kissed me on the cheek, said goodnight, and assured me he would see me the next day.”
Nicole was so intrigued. Where was her mother going with this story?
“When tomorrow came, Peter was gone.” Jeannette inhaled a deep breath and looked at her clenched hands.
“Where was he?” Nicole didn’t understand.
“He was killed in a car accident. Some kids were speeding and ran the light. Peter died instantly on impact when the kids sped through a red light.”
Nicole stared at her mom. She wanted to ask so many questions. “Mom, I had no knowledge of Peter. You never said anything about him.”
“I don’t share that story. I thought it was important for me to share it now because, like you and Tyler, Peter and I planned to spend the rest of our lives together. I thought I wouldn’t love again until I met your father. I didn’t express my feelings to him, just as I know you didn’t express your feelings to Cameron. I was holding on to Peter. To truly move on, I had to let Peter go. Your dad knew about Peter. I shared our story. He was patient. I knew your dad loved me. It took me a while before I realized I loved him. When I surrendered my love for Peter and let him go, my heart was open and filled with love for your father. I thought Peter was the love of my life. That man in there? Your father? He showed me what love is, what it meant. I know, in my heart, your father is the love of my life. He’s my soulmate.” Jeannette reached for the tissue hiding in her pocket and wiped fresh tears from her cheeks.
A hush settled around Nicole as she took a deliberate moment of stillness, gathering her thoughts, anchoring herself to the present. When she spoke, the stillness that preceded her words added weight to what she knew in her heart. It was a conscious choice, an acknowledgment that sometimes the most impactful words are delivered not in a rush but in the measured and purposeful cadence of a deliberate statement.
“I think I’m in love with Cameron,” Nicole finally admitted.
“Okay. What’s holding you back?” Jeannette heard the fear in her daughter’s voice.
Nicole looked at her mother, tears now streaming down her face. “Tyler.”