Save Me (28 page)

I push off the wall and start pacing the hall again. There are so many noises making my head ache; the beeping from the machines, the constant sound of the intercom going off, and the rush of feet coupled with urgent voices. Everywhere I look there’s a subdued panic on the faces of the medical staff. They try not to show fear, but I see it. I know what it looks like. I’ve lived it. I’ve spent years glancing over my shoulder wondering if Lawson or Frannie were there, lurking. Its only when I stopped being so cautious that my world started changing.

I stand at the opening of the hallway and the ER when another gurney comes in. There is no rushing this time, no one working on the woman lying under the white sheet. Her dark hair hangs off the back, swaying lightly with the movement from being rolled down the hall.
Is that Frannie?
I can’t help but think it is as I feel a weight being lifted off my shoulders. With Lawson in jail and Frannie dead, my life should go back to normal. I shouldn’t have to worry about anyone coming after my daughter and me, or someone trying to harm my husband. Life can be what it’s meant to be: enjoyable.

What I don’t understand is why Frannie wanted to harm all of us. From our last moments today, I know she was sick and mentally unstable. It’s clear that Lawson being put in jail was a trigger for her. I suppose I have a lot of questions to ask, but I’m not sure I even want to know the answers. I don’t want to find out that this was something, which could’ve been prevented if I had just kept my mouth shut.

“Mrs. Barnes?”

I’m caught off guard by my name being called. The doctor stands in front of me with fresh scrubs on. One would think he hasn’t done anything important today, but the expression on his face tells me otherwise. He’s tired, ragged.

I nod, unable to find my voice. My arms instinctively go around my mid-section, the same thing they did when I was informed that Tucker had died. I’m bracing myself.

“Your husband experienced a lot of damage from the bullet and the blood loss is extensive.”

I know what he’s going to say next and I don’t want to hear him. No one should lose their husband like this, and I’m going to do it twice in my young life. All I remember when I came in with Ray is the EMT saying GSW to the abdomen. Everything else is a jumble of words about his blood pressure, oxygen, and heart rate. They were rushing to do what they could, to get him into surgery before it was too late.

And it
is
too late.

“Is he dying?”

The doctor doesn’t say anything right away. For all I know, he’s searching for the right words to comfort me. He doesn’t know that I’ve been down this path before, only this time I’ll get to say good-bye. There isn’t a pedophile trying to steal my daughter causing me to run in the middle of the night. No, this time I’ll be holding my husband’s hand while he takes his last breath.

“We did everything we could, but there was just too much damage.” He reaches out and places his hand on my forearm in an attempt to comfort me. “You can see him and be with him until the end. Someone will be out shortly to take you to him.” With those final words he disappears down the hall, removing the paper cap that covers his hair.

I can’t even put into words what I’m feeling. I have an odd sense of calm, riddled with anxiety, and it hurts to breath. Tears are building up in my sockets, waiting for me to give the okay to let the floodgates open, but I can’t. I have to remain strong for Ray and for Chloe.

Chloe. No, Claire. What do I call my child now that the truth about our lives is out there? I had no time to explain before … before everything changed. My phone call to Cara, not Tucker, was cut short when Frannie walked into my house. Locking our doors had never been a precaution we had to take and we were about to pay the price.

Ray protected my daughter, sending her to her room as he calmly spoke to Frannie. Even with fear running through my body, I jumped when I heard Claire’s door slam and something be moved across the floor. She was blocking herself in because even she sensed the danger.

To my left and through the double doors is the waiting room where friends from the life I gave up sit and wait. If my luck continues, the police are there as well, waiting to take my statement. Rask’s last words remind me of what I’m supposed to say, but I don’t know if it’s believable. I don’t know if I believe it myself, but someone shot her from the outside and I really want to thank them, yet punch them at the same time because their bullet caused her to squeeze the trigger and shoot my husband.

“Ma’am, would you like to go see your husband?”

I nod at the portly nurse who offers a sweet, yet forced smile. “I need my daughter first.”

She seems to understand and steps in next to me, urging me to walk through the double doors. Each step seems to take an hour until I’m at the door and they’re being opened automatically for me. The nurse presses her hand against my back, guiding me to where everyone is waiting.

Ryley is the first to stand, and I immediately notice that she’s holding Claire’s hand. Flashbacks of images come to me as I remember how close they once were.

“Mommy,” she says as she runs toward with tears streaming down her face. I don’t know what she saw in the living room, but I hope to God Nate kept her face covered. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, baby, I am. Are you?” I ask, pushing her hair away from her face, my eyes doing a quick scan of her body to check she’s not hurt in any way.

“I was scared and I had to hang onto Nate while we climbed out my window, but he told me to not let go and said he wouldn’t drop me.”

I look up at Nate who looks a little embarrassed. As soon as my eyes meet Tucker’s, he goes and stands by his friend, patting him on the back. I’ll never be able to repay him, or any of the others for coming and saving us.

“No, Nate would never drop you. Neither would Tucker or Evan.”

Claire looks back and all the guys smile at her, all except for one—River. He’s staring straight ahead. I faintly remember him coming into my house, and if my husband hadn’t been injured I would’ve slapped him in the face. Why he’s even here, I have no idea. For all I know he faked his death, twice, to help his demented wife try to kill us all.

I pull Claire to me, cupping my hands over her cheeks. “Your dad is very hurt. I’m going to take you to see him now, okay?”

My words aren’t lost on her as her eyes well up with tears. Tucker moves toward me, but I shake my head. I don’t want him near me right now. I want to go be with my husband in his last moments, telling him how sorry I am and how much I love him.

With Claire’s hand in mine, we walk through the double doors while the nurse leads the way. Claire’s grip tightens when we pause at a nondescript door.

“Is my dad dying?”

I nod and let out the sob that has been building for hours. The tears no longer hold back and they rush down my face, soaking my skin immediately. Claire’s the brave one and pulls me into the room to where the man I love is lying on a bed with a tube coming out of his mouth. The nurse moves around us, bringing chairs over to his bedside.

“His heart is starting to slow down. It won’t be long,” she says as she looks at the machine. Claire lets go of my hand and moves to one side of the bed and picks up Ray’s hand.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” she says to him. “I hope you know how much I love you even when you made me study history.”

I let out a strangle laugh and try to compose myself. How can my daughter have so much more composure than me? I’m supposed to be the strong one, yet she’s teaching me about grace and dignity.

Reaching for Ray’s hand, I sit down next to him. He’s cold and lifeless already. I bring his hand to my lips and press against it. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper against this skin repeatedly.

“Ray, if you can hear me please fight. Find strength in our love and fight to stay with us. We need you so much.”

“Yes, Daddy, please stay with me,” Claire says through her tears. I reach for her, our hands resting over the top of Ray, cocooning him with our love.

“I can’t do this without you, Ray. Please don’t leave me.”

Claire and I talk to him, reminding him that he has something to fight for. I don’t know if I believe in the afterlife or the shining white light people with near death experiences say they’ve seen, but I do believe in love and faith. And I’m praying that wherever Ray is right now, he’s turning away from the light and coming back to me.

“WOULD YOU LIKE ME to brush your hair?”

Claire steps up behind me, dressed in a black dress that touches her knees with her hair up in a bun. I don’t know who did her hair, but I’m thankful. I can barely brush mine. Years ago, when I lost Tucker, I didn’t have time to mourn and part of me wishes I were in a similar situation because every part of my body hurts. The other part of me feels like I didn’t do this right with Tucker or I’m somehow not honoring his memory.

With the ‘passing’ of Tucker I was living in fear, constantly looking over my shoulder and jumping at the slightest noises. I’d sleep up against the door while Claire slept peacefully in bed or battled her toddler demons. Numerous times, I wondered if her night whimpers were dreams about Tucker, but her little mind was probably dreaming of monsters under her bed, not her father dying, not her father never coming home. I can’t even remember if I told her.

I stare back at my daughter who looks so much like the father she doesn’t know. How did our lives become this cluster mess of lies and deceit? I never wanted to lie to Ray, but I had no choice. There was never a convenient time to sit down and unload my burden on him. And why would I? We were living a life of bliss and nothing was wrong, except my inability to give him a child. That was selfish of me. I didn’t know if I could love another child the same way I love Claire. She was my last link to a life that I never wanted to give up.

Today I’ll bury my husband when I couldn’t do it before. I was never afforded the opportunity to say good-bye to Tucker. Instead of honoring the man who served his country, sitting there like a proud wife and accepting his flag, I was lying on a bed, silently crying my eyes out and holding my daughter for fear that someone was going to take her out of my arms.

“Who did your hair?”

Claire picks up my brush and moves it through my hair, brushing it softly. “That lady, Ryley. She seems nice.”

“She is.” I smile softly. “When you were little, we used to go to the park with her all the time. She has a little boy now … I don’t know why I just told you that,” I say, getting lost in thought.

“It’s okay. We can talk about it.”

Claire sets my brush down and sits next to me on my bench, taking my hand in hers. She’s so strong and resilient.

“My name is Penelope,” I tell her with a smile. “And your name is Claire. For days now I’ve been referring to you as Claire in my head because it was your grandma’s name and your dad loved your grandma so much.”

“What’s his name?”

“Tucker McCoy.”

“He’s downstairs fixing our door,” she states as if I’m supposed to know this. “He made me breakfast, too, but it wasn’t very good. I didn’t tell him that though.”

“Oh yeah?” I try not to let my voice crack, but it does. I can’t imagine what Tucker is thinking right now. He’s spent the past six years believing we’ve been waiting for him, that he’d come home to a family who missed him. Well, I missed him, but Claire … she was too young.

“Has Tucker spoken to you?”

Claire shakes her head and starts pulling at her lower lip. “What’s going to happen now?”