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His clipped response is a sure sign he doesn’t want to talk about this, but I continue to delve. “Do you like it there? What about work?”
His gaze is still rooted to the flashing floors as we descend. “It’s as good as any other place I’ve lived. I work at a garage.”
“Oh, you’re a mechanic?” I remember he always liked tinkering around on anything that moved. “I remember—”
But he abruptly cuts me off. “Look, Lucy.” He turns to face me while I jolt backward. “I’m not here for a social visit. I’m here to do my bit, and then I’m gone. Please don’t feel obligated to talk to me, or try to get to know me. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough and your perfect little life can return to normal.”
My mouth falls open. “Excuse me?” He doesn’t know me, and he certainly has no clue about my so-called perfect life. “Perfect life? You have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe if you had actually acknowledged me over the years and spoken to me, rather than grunt your way through my attempts at talking to you, you’d see myperfect little lifeisn’t so perfect after all!”
He has the gall to smirk, angering me further. So much for our heartfelt reunion.
“So you and your bit can shove it, we don’t need your help! Samuel needs people around his bedside who want to be there, not people who are keeping score of who helped who.” I end my rant with an exasperated huff. I’ve never ranted before, well, not like this anyway. It feels good.
The elevator stops, the doors opening and allowing unsuspecting people into a spontaneous cage match. The rest of our journey is traveled in silence.
I wait with Saxon as he generously gives blood, trying not to scowl at him because regardless of his assholeness, he’s still here, helping Samuel. The young nurse is shamelessly flirting with him, asking him a million and one questions as she labels the vials of blood she took. Unlike whenIasked him about his life, he’s answering her questions politely.
“So you ride a Harley, that’s so cool,” she gushes, watching him as he rolls his sleeve over his humongous bicep. “I’d love to see it.”
“Sure thing. Any time you want a ride, let me know.” He smirks cockily.
I lean back in my seat, crossing an ankle over my knee as I roll my eyes. So he’s staying now? To give Nurse Bimbo a ride? I hate to think of what kind of ride he’ll give her. On that note I stand, wanting to get back to my comatose fiancé who is far more interesting than watching the nurse make googly eyes at Saxon.
My chair scraping along the floor interrupts the love fest. “I’m going back to see Samuel.” I half expect Saxon to push me out the door and lock it behind me, but I’m surprised when he stands too.
He appears to be weighing up what to say, which confuses me. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”
Nurse Bimbo doesn’t hide her disappointment. “Oh, I have my break in ten minutes. Maybe you could wait for me?” I do a double take when I see a button on her scrub suit has mysteriously come undone. Some women really have no shame.
I’ve never been a girly girl. I’ve always been more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, rather than a dress and high heels. The only makeup I ever wear is a light dusting of foundation to cover my freckles, mascara, and lip balm, and on some days, that’s too much. I’m a no-frills kind of girl, but I’m me—little Lucy Tucker. And I’m comfortable with that person.
Nurse Bimbo over here needs a spoonful of humility. Or maybe a mirror to wipe off her clown inspired makeup. I scold myself for such thoughts as I’m not usually a catty person. “Or you could just wait in here?” she suggests, leaving nothing to the imagination.
This awkward situation is suffocating me and I shuffle my feet, feeling like the third wheel. Saxon must be able to read my uneasiness because he doesn’t take the bait, which again surprises me. “I better go.” He unscrews the lid of a candy jar, pulling out a heart-shaped lollipop. “You were very gentle with me. Thank you.” He accents his sentence with a wink.
I refrain from gagging as I push open the door, welcoming the medicated smell of the sterile hallway as opposed to Nurse Bimbo’s overpowering floral stench. An exit has never looked more appealing and I scurry towards it, shouldering open the door.
The warm spring breeze butters my cheeks, and I relish in the warmer weather as it thaws out the constant chill. I ignore the fact that if all went to plan Sam and I would be in Costa de Galicia in the north of Spain, enjoying white sandy beaches and absolute seclusion from the outside world. But that’s nothing but a dream.
Piper has been a life saver and made the dreaded calls, informing all parties of my current situation. Of course there are no refunds, but the owner of the villa we planned to stay in has kindly rolled over our funds, stating we’re always welcome to take a belated honeymoon when the time is right. Thinking about Samuel and his condition, who knows if and when that’ll ever occur.
“I’m sorry.”
A red lollipop dances into view, and I look down at it, cocking an eyebrow. “What’s this for?”
“It’s to apologize for being an asshole to you earlier,” Saxon explains, waving the sucker.
“Oh, so it’s bribery candy?” He chuckles, and the sound—it hurts. It’s identical to Samuel. Pushing those thoughts aside, I scrunch up my nose. “Thank you but no thank you. I don’t know where it’s been.” I make no attempt to conceal my disgust.
I continue walking but jar to a stop when Saxon touches my arm. “I’m just going to have a cigarette. I’ll meet you inside.”
Looking down at his hand on my arm, I frown; even his fingers are similar to Sam’s. Will I ever be able to stop comparing the two? I doubt it. “I’ll wait with you,” I offer, not ready to leave this fresh air behind just yet.
We sit on a wooden bench, both quiet, our pensive thoughts filling the space between us. The landscape before us is beautifully green, filled with ponderosa pines and pretty, multi-colored wildflowers. The scenery should give one sitting before it a sense of peace, but the circumstances surrounding why they’re here no doubt taint their views—just how it blemishes mine.
How many days, hours, minutes, and seconds will I sit here, wondering what comes next?
“Are you going to be all right?” Saxon asks, a nicotine cloud floating on the gentle wind.
