The Lives Between Us (38 page)

Read The Lives Between Us Online

Authors: Theresa Rizzo

Tags: #Fiction, #Political, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Family & Relationships, #Love & Romance, #Medical

“I know life’s hellacious for you right now. But I still want you, and Jeff still needs you. But we’re not the ones who have to be you.” Edward lowered his head and bit his lower lip to gather his courage. “So, it’s up to you. I will support whatever decision you make.”

Though it will absolutely kill me to let you go
.

Struggling not to cowardly turn away from her searching look, Edward waited. The seconds seemed like hours before Noelle spoke.

“Love you.”
Hiss
. “Too. But.”
Hiss
. “This.”
Hiss
. “Really sucks.”

The breath rushed from his chest. Edward squeezed his eyes tightly shut and kissed the top of Noelle’s head. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

Edward wanted to be her knight in shining armor. He used to be. But he couldn’t now, and it hurt so damned much.

“It’s getting late. Is it all right if I just sit here with you awhile?” He kissed her forehead and eased onto the bed, one leg on, while the other hung off, propping him up.

“Watch.”
Hiss
. “Leads.”

Edward stroked her cheek and smiled, amazed that Noelle could joke so soon about the pop off. Then again, maybe she wasn’t kidding and had been warning him. It was hard to tell with that mechanical speech. Though Noelle’s voice was rusty from disuse, it was sweet music to his ears. It gave him hope.

After half an hour, long after Noelle had fallen into an exhausted sleep, Edward got ready for bed but knew there’d be no sleep tonight for him. Every time he drifted off, he heard the shriek of her vent alarm, even through the soothing hum and hiss of the machine, and had to sit up and check for himself.

Would he ever be able to sleep without the white noise of her vent at home?

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

 

Skye drove to Faith’s. Maybe she’d be able to mooch lunch off them. Mrs. Holms had turned out to be a great cook, and Skye was getting tired of her own snatched meals of crackers and cheese or meals eaten behind the bar at work. She pulled into the driveway and parked next to the modest Cape Cod.

Skye let herself in through the front door. “Anybody home?” she called out quietly in case the twins were sleeping,

“Kitchen,” Faith said.

Skye walked past Cole asleep in the rocking swing. Baby Hope lay snuggled in the playpen. Tiny gowns, cloth diapers, and T-shirts littered the kitchen table as Faith prepared to fold them. With his tie tucked into his dress shirt and his shoulder holster nesting his gun, Peter stood over the sink, finishing off a sandwich.

“What’re you doing home?” Skye asked Peter.

“Grabbing a bite.”

“What’re you up to?” Faith asked as she folded a long baby gown that resembled a sack.

“Moving.”

“Moving?” Faith froze and gave her a sharp look. “Where to? How come?”

Skye tossed a sheet of paper on the table. “That’s my new address. The McSwains have a small apartment over the bar they’ve decided to sell. Without the cost of a realtor’s fee, I got a real deal on it. My mortgage, with a little extra thrown in for the renovation, will only be a little more than my current rent, so I’ll have an investment.”

“No realtor? How do you know it’s not a money pit?” Peter asked.

Skye grabbed an orange from the fruit basket and began peeling. “I had it inspected by a licensed and certified building inspector.”

“Good. That’s good. Can you really afford it?”

Skye pulled the orange apart and leaned against the counter. “Yup. It’s not much now, but with a little renovation, it’ll be really cute. I sign the loan papers next week.” She put a hand on Faith’s arm. “Don’t worry. I can put off the apartment remodel until you don’t need Mrs. Holms any more. So we should be all set.” Skye looked from her stunned sister to her brother-in-law. “Right?”

“Good for you, Squirt,” Peter said. “Gotta get back to work. Be home by seven, hon.” Peter kissed Faith and waved at Skye.

“Bye.” Faith looked at her. “Skye, you’ve never wanted to own anything in your life.”

“I know. Isn’t it cool?” She popped a sweet section of orange in her mouth.

“Are you sure? This isn’t like getting a goldfish. It’s not going to die and disappear in a week. This is a real commitment.” Faith stared, and for once Skye didn’t feel like squirming. “You’re sure this will make you happy?”

Skye understood Faith’s surprise. Faith was right; she’d never wanted to settle down long enough to own anything more than a car. Okay, so she leased the car, but that was sort of owning. Skye had always lived by the seat of her pants, always relied on her instincts to guide her, and her heart told her this was a good move.

“Yeah. This feels right. The remodeling is kind of a fun adventure and a good investment.”

“Since when have you started thinking in terms of investments?”

Skye shrugged and grinned. “Must be growing up.”

“I guess. Not to be a naysayer, but what if your job with the paper doesn’t work out?”

“Then I’ll probably be set ’cause I’d make a
lot
more money working just about anywhere else. But it will. I’m almost done with Edward’s article, and that’s sure to impress Karen.”

“So you’re going to write it?”

She nodded. “Two, actually. The first will be from our interview—a sort of warmer-upper, and the follow up will be the meaty piece.”

“I thought you weren’t going to throw the first stone?” Faith put the onesie she’d been folding down in the pile and eased into the chair at the table.

“I’m not throwing any stones, I’m going to shine a light and build some bridges. I’m really excited.”

“What’s Mark think about it?”

Skye swallowed the orange slice and stared at her crossed feet. “Yeah. I haven’t exactly told him yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s probably not going to be too happy with me about it—at least at first.” That was putting it mildly.

“And then?”

“And then, I’m sure he’ll see the value in what I’ve done.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

She shrugged.

Questioning wrinkles lined Faith’s forehead. “You’re sure this is what you want to do?”

Skye knew Faith wasn’t just talking about buying the apartment. In writing the second article about Edward, she was testing her relationship with Mark—the first relationship that’d ever really mattered to her.

Mark could very well drop Skye in a furious rage and never talk to her again, but she was betting he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really even very much of a gamble. Mark was a fair man. He was smart, and he loved her. Mark would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Skye would never hurt Noelle and Edward.

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

 

* * *

 

Skye pushed back from her computer and stretched her tight, aching muscles. She’d spent the morning hammering out a rough draft of the Hastingses’ story. Ugly though it was, now at least she had something to work with. She had a real chance of making Karen’s Friday deadline.

Scanning the pages, she pushed aside twinges of guilt at having revealed something she knew Edward would consider off the record. He was overly sensitive, and his judgment wasn’t the best these days.

Skye peered out the window and checked her watch again. The flurries had stopped, and the sun came out—a rare occurrence in a Michigan winter and one that should be properly appreciated. It was such a nice afternoon that she decided to walk the two miles to McSwain’s.

Skye grabbed hat and gloves and slipped her arms into her leather jacket before throwing her keys into her purse and heading out the door. She strolled down Kercheval through the village, loving the quaint area and the bustling afternoon crowd.

Two women stood chatting outside Sanders Candy and Dessert Shop. Faith and Skye’s mom had taken them there after having their teeth cleaned. Mom and Faith had chocolate sundaes, but Skye had always favored butterscotch.

A mom smiled at her toddler son pointing at the wooden train set monopolizing the Gymboree window display. Every Christmas, Niki had helped Pete circle the Christmas tree with his childhood train set. Skye wasn’t sure who’d enjoyed the tradition more, Nik or Pete. Next year maybe she could help him, seeing how the twins would still be too young.

People crossed the street as the ornate iron clock suspended over the road bonged the hour. At the Starbucks on the corner, Skye spotted a familiar figure. Jeff Hastings stood talking to a big blond guy who looked vaguely familiar. They seemed about the same age, so this probably wasn’t his tutor. Should she ignore him and walk by or stop and say hello? Would it embarrass Jeff if she stopped?

Skye crossed the street. Encouraged that Jeff’s eyes lit with recognition, she smiled. “Hi, Jeff.”

“Hey.” He gestured to the other guy. “This is Todd Daniels. Todd, this is Ms. Kendall.”

Skye shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. Are you two neighbors?”

“We go to school together,” Jeff said.

“And play hockey,” Todd added. “Hey man, I gotta go. See ya at practice.” He backed away. “Nice meeting you,” he called out to Skye.

“You, too.” Skye watched the kid meld into the crowd, before turning back to Jeff. He stood with his jacket open, revealing khakis, a dress shirt, and tie. Jeff’s hair nearly concealed his eyebrows. He needed a haircut. “I didn’t mean to chase your friend away.”

“’S okay. He had to get home.”

“How’re you doing?”

“Okay. Dad finally canned the tutor and put me in school.”

Private school accounted for the dress clothes. “Do you like it? Even though it’s a new school, it probably feels good to go to classes again and be around kids your own age.”

“I guess.” Jeff shrugged one shoulder, but his demeanor seemed more relaxed than it’d been since the accident. “I get to play more hockey.”

“When your dad goes to DC, will you stay with your grandpa?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. That’s good.” She nodded, and then looked in the direction Jeff’s friend had gone. “So... Todd seems nice. Have you known him long?”

“We’ve played hockey together for awhile, but we never hung out before last week. Once I started school at Liggett, we started hanging out.”

Jeff was really good at hockey, so why wouldn’t they have made friends before? “That’s cool. Sounds like you’ve got something in common.”

“Yeah, a lot actually. His mom’s this high-powered attorney and his dad’s gone all the time for work.”

“Must be hard. Has it always been that way?”

“Naw, his mom just went back to work a year ago. And it pretty much sucks. They don’t trust him at all. He has to check in with his mom as soon as he gets home, and he’s gotta babysit his little sister and help her with homework.”

So Mom wasn’t around much anymore, and Dad traveled. Sounded a lot like Jeff’s situation. “What’s his dad do that keeps him on the road? Salesman?”

“He’s a sports writer. He follows the Tigers around.”

“Really? What’s his last name?”

“Daniels.” Jeff squinted into the sun as he looked at her. “Why? You know him?”

“Not personally. I think I’ve seen him around the newsroom.”

Jeff looked over her shoulder as car pulled to the curb. “There’s Grandpa. I gotta go.” He climbed into the car, then rolled down the window. “Do you need a ride?”

“No, thanks. I’ll walk.” Skye waved them away.

 

 

 

Chapter 27

 

 

Mark smiled a passing greeting as Noelle’s nurse, hands full of depleted bags and tubes, left her room. Winter sunlight shone again, lifting his spirits. He slowed at the sight of Noelle’s empty, wrinkle-free bed. Since he’d seen her nurse leave the room with the remains of her lunch, he assumed Noelle was there. He moved farther into the room and found her sitting in a wheelchair by the window.

Her hair had been braided, and twin plaits touched her shoulders, giving her a younger appearance that reminded Mark of the day he’d first met her on the soccer field more than a decade ago. Noelle wore a familiar blouse and navy pants that now hung on her gaunt frame. A brace, which looked like a police flak jacket, covered her chest.

Someone, the nurse he supposed, had applied her makeup with a light touch, just the way she usually wore it. If not for the Velcro straps holding Noelle’s arms and legs to the chair and the ribbed plastic vent tube draped across her chest, she’d look almost normal. Like she’d been a little ill, causing her weight loss, but otherwise healthy.

Noelle smiled.

Mark braced a hand on the back of her wheelchair and kissed her forehead. Moving back, he let his gaze sweep her body in an exaggerated motion. “Hey, look at you. All dressed and ready to go.”

“About.”
Hiss
. “Time.”

“You look great. And now they’ve given you wheels? Watch out,” Mark teased. He backed up and sat on her bed. “That’s great.”

“We’ll.”
Hiss
. “See.” Hiss. “How boys?”

“Ed, Jeff, and your dad?”

She nodded.

“They’re fine. No worries.”

Hiss
. “Liar.”
Hiss
. “Truth.”

“Jeff’s starting to settle down. It was a good call putting him in school here. Joseph staying with him and him attending school versus the tutoring seems to be giving Jeff some routine.”

“Poor.”
Hiss
. “Baby.”

“Baby, my ass. That kid’s had your dad and husband running in circles trying to help him adjust.”

Hiss
. “Patience.”

“Of a saint,” Mark muttered under his breath. He’d taken Jeff out for ice cream, hoping he’d get through to the kid—and he thought he had, until they got home and he witnessed the disrespectful tone and crap spewing from his mouth. He was moodier than a hormonal teenage Serena—and that was saying a lot.

One minute he was offering to help Joseph with dinner, and the next, sulky attitude and temper tantrums took the place of civil conversation. The transformation was amazing and a bit frightening. He was glad he wasn’t the one to deal with that on a daily basis.

“They’re okay. The good news is your dad and Ed have reached a truce. They’re almost friendly. Trying to keep Jeff in line has brought them together.” At Noelle’s raised eyebrow, he laughed. “Okay, so maybe not together, but they have more forbearance for each other—and, oh, hey, they have
all kinds
of respect for you. It’s killing them that it takes two men to do your job—and still can’t do it all that well. But they’re getting the hang of it.”

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