I wonder what he will think when I tell him? Will he stop bringing me all different kinds?
“Don’t worry, I have backup coming to help us haul this out of here,” Remington tells me as we hear raised voices in the hallway.
Kendra and Eli waltz in the door then, bickering between themselves but turning on the sunshine and smiles when they see me. “We are ready to break you out of here!” Eli grins and claps his hands.
I stand from the bed, wobbly, but much stronger than last week. Kendra hugs me, her little body squeezing me tightly. “I’m so happy we get to visit younotat the hospital after today,” she admits.
“Me, too,” I whisper.
Our favorite nurse wheels in a big cart for the flowers. We load everything up, and Kendra takes my small bag, filled with borrowed things. Eli pushes the flower cart, and Remington pushes my wheelchair, which the staff are making me ride in until we reach the hospital exit.
The sliding glass doors open wide, and the curb is filled with people—for me. I cover my face and I feel overwhelmed. Remington’s parents are picking us up, which I knew about. What I wasn’t expecting was nearly the entire fire station to be there, including one of the trucks. Kinsley is cradled in Sutton’s arms, sleeping peacefully. Danny and Megan stand by their cruiser. Jess and her boys are holding Ash on a leash, and he’s happily wagging his tail, watching all the excitement.
I stand up, and Remington wraps his arm around my waist. “I don’t even know how to handle this, what to say.” My voice is a soft, hoarse plea; I am sure they all can’t hear.
“You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart,” Renee says, stepping forward. “This is what family does.” She hugs me tight, and I hug her back, relishing in the feeling of being fully loved by a group of people that know the meaning of loving, cherishing, and protecting the people that mean the most to you.
Being at Charles and Renee’s house, living here, and having them help care for me, it was now easier to imagine what it must have been like for Remington and Sutton growing up in this warm, loving environment. It doesn’t surprise me that they turned out the way they have after experiencing being here in this way.
Renee fusses over me, feeds me, keeps me company, makes me laugh, and has become a true friend. Charles is steadfast in his protective nature, like Remington. He fills my water, makes sure I have anything I need, hugs me in a fatherly way that makes my eyes sting every single time. I feel like I belong, not just because we are staying here since our house burned down, but because these people are my true family. I fit here, and I haven’t felt that anywhere but with Remington.
Knowing that makes sitting across from my mother today very uncomfortable. She came over to see me, finally fully informed of the horrors her son put me through. First she had to call me, not even knowing where to find me. Remington answered my brand-new phone that he got my old number transferred over to since my old phone was lost in the fire and talked to her since I am still supposed to be on vocal rest.
Sitting on the couch, hand laced with Remington’s, my mother’s eyes linger on the burns slowing healing along my jaw and neck. A permanent reminder of the first evil attempt to take my life, the faint yellow bruising ringing my throat from trying to suffocate the life out of me the second.
Renee brings me a warm cup of tea, which has been routine multiple times a day, for my throat. Gently rubbing my shoulder, she says, “You just let me know if you need me,sweetheart. Alright?” Warmth flows from her eyes, giving me the strength I need in this moment.
“Thank you,” I mouth quietly, nodding as she excuses herself.
My mother clears her throat from the other couch, sitting stiffly in her discomfort. She had refused the offer of Renee’s kindness when asked if she wanted tea as well or something else to drink.
“What can we do for you today, Ann?” Remington asks from his relaxed position next to me. His protective hackles are raised, on high alert, but you’d never know from his tone and body language. I know because I knowhim.
Scoffing, my mother says, “I came here because I wanted to see if Lainey was alright. I was worried!”
I roll my eyes, bristling at her sharp words. “The fire and attack were almost two weeks ago. Calvin was arrested, has been in jail for almost as long. It’s hard to believe you were that concerned when you only called Laineyyesterday.Her father has not tried to contact her at all,” Remington growls out in frustration.
“Remerton, I think Lainey can speak for herself.” She looks pointedly at me, but I keep my mouth shut, happy to let the man I love speak on my behalf.
“Once again, Ann—it’s Remington, to Lainey. Rem to the rest of the world. Your misuse of my name now is not a mistake, it’s just you trying to be a bitch. I don’t like using that term, especially under my mama’s roof, but I think she’d agree with me on this one.”
“Amen, dear,” Renee shouts from the kitchen, and I have to hold back a snort.
“See?” Remington glares at my mother. “As far as Lainey speaking for herself. Actually, Ann, you see, she isn’t supposed to talk much at all. You would know that had you been at the hospital, or around at all these past weeks. Her vocal cordssustained such damage from your son trying tokill herthat she is on strict orders from her doctor to rest. Which means very limited talking.”
“She can just whisper,” my mother states. “I’m here to talkto her. This has nothing to do with you. You are just trying to insert yourself into a family matter.”
“Iamher family.” My mother blanches. “Once again, you’re making this about you. What you want, what you think is best. Your terms. That isnothow this is going to go anymore. Lainey allowed you to come here today thinking you actually gave a shit about her, but you don’t. You should be falling to your knees, begging for her forgiveness. Instead, you’re here still being unkind and judgmental.” Remington kisses my temple, and I lean into his warmth.
“I don’t have room in my life for people that don’t love me the way I deserve,” I whisper, looking my mother directly in her angry eyes.
“That’s unfair—” I cut her off, holding up my hand.
“What’s unfair is that you went to see Cal,in jail, before you came here to see me. That you would even go see him at all after what he did ...” I touch my throat, her eyes following my fingertips. Remington hands me my tea off of the coffee table, and I take a sip, trying to soothe my weak voice.
“He’s alone in there. I needed to know why he did it. He is my son and, and?—”
Stopping her again, I say, “And I am your daughter. But you don’t deserve me.”
