Page 85 of See You Next Tuesday

Gabe led her into the kitchen, then poured them each a big mug of coffee and took a tray with two bacon-and-egg sandwiches out of the oven. Anya sipped her coffee—it was good, and really strong. It made her feel kind of buzzy. Dr. Cheng’s kitchen table was tucked in a little nook filled with windows that overlooked her property—the dense evergreens, and beyond them, the water. Anya loved gazing out at this view, but right now she only wanted to look at Gabe. She wanted to tell him…something? She wasn’t sure what. That she’d missed him, maybe? That she liked his hair?

The front door banged open, and the dogs sprinted to greet Dr. Cheng. She appeared moments later carrying four big bags of groceries, and Gabe hopped up to help her unpack.

“Good, you’re eating.” Dr. Cheng glanced at Anya approvingly, then frowned. “Why are you so red? Are you running a fever?”

“No, I’m okay,” Anya told her. “I was, um, crying. For a while.”

“Mm.” Dr. Cheng nodded. “And your head?”

“The bruise hurts a little, but otherwise nothing.”

“No wooziness? Dizziness? Pain?”

Anya shook her head.

“Good.” Dr. Cheng caught Gabe’s eye, and they shared a small smile. Gabe must have spent more time here than Anya realized; the two of them were so easy with each other.

“And what are you two up to today?” Dr. Cheng asked.

“I need to canvass,” Anya replied quickly, and Gabe said, “Are you out of your mind?” at the same time Dr. Cheng said, “Absolutely not.”

“But we have to!” Anya was indignant. “I didn’t go yesterday—I’m two shifts behind. And Gabe’s great on doors.”

“Send him then!” Dr. Cheng scoffed.

“I’m staying with Anya,” Gabe protested.

“And I’m going canvassing!” Anya insisted.

“I’m the candidate, and I’m your boss, and you are absolutely not canvassing today.” Dr. Cheng folded her arms and gave Anya a stern look. Anya had seen her use this same “alpha stance” with the dogs to great effect.

“You’re not technically my boss if you don’t pay me,” Anya pointed out.

“All the more reason for you to take a day off,” Gabe countered.

Dr. Cheng nodded. “You’ll rest, eat, hydrate. That’s it.”

There was some gray in Dr. Cheng’s short hair, a little curl. In some ways, Dr. Cheng was very different from Anya’s mother. But in others, they were exactly the same.

“Okay, I’ll rest,” Anya agreed. “But just for today.”

Dr. Cheng gave her a knowing smile. “We’ll see.”

After breakfast, Anya went down to the guest cabin to shower and get dressed. Gabe thought he’d crash out and sleep, exhausted as he was, but all the stress and adrenaline of the past twenty-four hours was still roiling through his body. There was nothing for it but to run down to the rocky beach at the edge of Sierra’s property and dive into the freezing water. He grabbed a swimsuit out of his suitcase, thankful he’d actually packed it. He’d been in such a frenzy the night before—booking the first flight he could get to Seattle, hauling ass to LAX and barely making it—that he’d thrown some clothes in a bag without thinking what he might actually need. It didn’t matter what he wore. Nothing mattered except that Anya was okay.

He hadn’t been back inside a hospital since he and Anya took his mother to Cedars. He knew Anya was somewhere totally different, but he couldn’t stop picturing her in that same hospital room, that same bed, those same hydration tubes running into her arm. Nor could he stop replaying the night the police called about Danny’s accident, the hours of waiting while he was in surgery, Danny never waking up, not even to say goodbye. All through Gabe’s long night of travel, he tried to read, to sleep, to think about literally anything else, but it was no use. He was nauseous with fear, completely consumed by the idea that something could have happened to Anya and he wasn’t there to help.

He felt some measure of relief when Sierra called to say Anya was okay and they were leaving the hospital. He knew Sierra wouldn’t have let Anya leave if it wasn’t a hundred percent safe. But the urgency he felt to see her didn’t wane—if anything it intensified, the knots in his stomach growing tighter as he paced the halls of the Anacortes ferry terminal, waiting for the little boat that would bring him to Anya.

And then, when he finally saw her face—

Her face.

She was still beautiful. She was so beautiful he couldn’t stand it—but he wasn’t prepared for how different she looked. In his mind’s eye, Anya was always so much: so many curves, so flushed with color, so loud in her opinions, in her laughter, eyes flashing with anger as she argued with him, gesticulating excitedly as she explained her latest brilliant idea. She was a radiant ball of energy that lit Gabe’s spirit on fire.

Except now…she wasn’t. She’d lost weight; the hollows of her cheeks were sunken, and all her color was gone except the dark purple beneath her eyes. Her manner was muted, and even her wild curls seemed limp and dull. He knew what grief could do to a person; he’d seen what it had done to his mother. When he first saw Anya standing in the hallway, looking so empty? He didn’t think he’d ever felt terror like that before, maybe not even the night they lost Danny.

But then she cried, and she let him hold her. He thought his heart would burst with the feeling of it, he was so desperate to protect her. And she ate her sandwich, and drank her coffee, and almost smiled. He hadn’t lost her. He couldn’t lose her.