The Missing Year (22 page)

Mattie pulled a brush through her hair and straightened her gown, her expression changing from sleepy to angry in a matter of seconds.

Reality had set in, apparently for both of them.

“I told Tim not to call you,” she said. “I really
am
fine, and I meant what I said. You and I are through. I can’t compete with your past, Ross. I never could.”

Ross sat in the chair at her bedside, reached for her hand, and tried not to react when she pulled away. All things considered, he deserved to lose her.

“Mattie, please listen.”

“To what? Another list of things I need to understand?”

“Some things happened in New York.”

“Oh, I
know
what happened in New York.”

“God, why won’t you believe me about that? Camille is a friend.”

“Then why was she so jealous?”

“She wasn’t jealous,” Ross said. “She was defensive. Sarah was her best friend. You can’t blame her for needing some time to adjust.”

“Can’t I?”

A late middle-aged nurse appeared in the doorway. “Mattie, is everything all right? You should be resting.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then lower your voices.” The woman walked away with her finger pressed to her lips.

“I keep telling them it doesn’t hurt anymore and that I want to go home.”

“I’ll make sure that if everything’s all right, you’re out of here later today,” Ross said.

Mattie tucked her auburn hair behind her ears. “Don’t do me any favors.”

“It’s not a favor, Mattie. I want to take you home. To take care of you if you’ll let me. I hate leaving voicemail messages I know you’ll never answer. I hate going to bed and not being able to at least say goodnight. I hate how lonely I am without you and how terrified I was when I heard you were hurt. You are all I have thought about since you left New York.”

“Why are you making this harder than it needs to be?”

“Making what harder? We don’t have to be apart, Mattie.”

“How can we possibly be together after—?”

“Nothing happened, Mattie. We explained that.”

“
We.
You and that bimbo Camille?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Not
fair
? You slept with another woman and I’m being unfair?”

“I didn’t sleep with her. Well, we slept in the same bed, but we didn’t have sex.”

“So you claim.”

“It’s true.”

“The fact that you keep saying that makes me wonder, but that isn’t it—at least not entirely.”

“Then what?”

“It’s that everything—this case, the trip to New York,
Camille
—circles back to Sarah. I’ll never be her, and you’ll never be over her.”

“I’ll always love her, but I won’t
only
love her. I was wrong, Mattie. You know how hard it is for me to admit that. Camille put into perspective how badly I’ve treated you. You wouldn’t have put up with me this long if you didn’t love me.”

“Of course I love you, but I can’t continue being in love with someone who can’t love me back.”

Ross thought back to the fight they’d had before he left for New York. “I just needed time.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

“It’s true. I’ve been so consumed by my own grief I didn’t see what was right in front of me. I
do
love you, Mattie. I always have. Give me one last chance to prove to you how committed I am to making this relationship work.”

“Why?” she said. “What’s changed?”

“Everything.”

A brief conversation with the attending physician all but guaranteed Mattie’s discharge. The latest test results confirmed that the swelling was no longer cause for concern.

Ross intended to pick Mattie up when it was time for her to go home, but there was something he needed to do first. After careful consideration, he was sure he had his grand gesture. Ross picked up his bags from the main desk, hailed a cab, and was lost in thought when his phone rang.

“Speak of the devil.”

“Miss me?”

It was Camille.

“More than you know. What’s up?” It felt good to have a friend again.

“I wanted to make sure you got home okay, and find out how Mattie was doing.”

“Safe and sound, and Mattie’s fine. There was some concern about swelling but it’s gone.”

“That’s great to hear. Tell her ‘Get well soon’ from me.”

“Will do.”

“How about the relationship stuff?”

“What do you want me to tell you? That I begged her to listen to me? That I spilled my guts to a lukewarm reception and an uncertain future?”

“No. I want to hear that you tried, that you realized what you needed to do. I really am sorry about the trouble I caused. I was being petty.”

“You were being a good friend,” Ross said.

“A
best
friend, but now I have you to look out for. We both have some moving on to do. Did you come up with a game plan?”

“I did.”

“Are you expecting me to drag it out of you? You’re like nine hundred miles away.”

“I don’t want to jinx it,” Ross said.

“Can you at least give me a hint?”

“Sure. I’m on my way home to dig out some boxes.”

“Let me know how that works out for you.”

The cab driver pulled into Ross’s driveway, the meter reading a fifty-five dollar fare. Ross handed him sixty dollars in twenties and thanked him when he unloaded his bags from the trunk.

Home sweet home.

Ross turned the key in the front door and it swung open like a portal to his past. Everything—from the surplus of throw blankets to the medical equipment—reminded him of Sarah’s death.

The self-imposed torment had to stop.

Ross headed to the basement where he’d stored the boxes he’d been collecting for an intangible someday when he could stand to see Sarah’s things gone. He carried as many as he could and two rolls of packing tape upstairs. The day had finally come. He headed into the master bedroom, set down his supplies, and made two phone calls—one to a moving company and the other to a storage facility—before getting started.

He assembled several of the large boxes and laid them out in a row on the floor in front of the walk-in closet. One by one he removed each article of Sarah’s clothing from the hangers, carefully folded them, and stacked them inside one of the boxes. He unloaded the rack of shoes—everything from high heels to calf-high boots—and boxed her costume jewelry organizer.

Sarah had loved to accessorize.

The next thing to go was the medical equipment. Ross had decided to donate rather than store it. He boxed the small things—unopened rubber gloves, a commode, dressings, and new-in-the-package colostomy supplies—that he was sure the Visiting Nurses Association could use, sealed, and labeled them. He folded the walker that had been Sarah’s last hope before becoming too weak to support her own weight and leaned it against the wall.

Five years’ of dust had settled on the bedroom furniture. Dust being seventy-five to ninety percent dead skill cells, he had considered it to be part of Sarah. It was one of a dozen ways he tricked himself into feeling her presence. He rinsed a dust rag with warm water from the master bathroom faucet, unable to believe he’d gone so far into mourning or that Mattie hadn’t left him for it sooner. He cleared the nightstand of the picture frame, phone base, and a bottle of lavender lotion that had been Sarah’s favorite and washed away the outlines. He boxed the lotion and the bottles of perfume lining the shorter of the two dressers. The smells were unpleasant reminders. He opened the bedroom windows as wide as they would go and turned his face into the cleansing breeze.

Ross opened all the windows, releasing the past he had holed himself up with. He continued packing, vacuumed, dusted, and set all of the boxes on the front porch for pick-up. The movers had an unexpected midday opening, making Ross all the more eager for the boxes to be removed before he got the urge to bring them back inside.

No good would come from that.

He was taping the final box when the phone rang.

It had to be Camille again. He wouldn’t exactly call her patient.

“Hello?” Ross cut the tape, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

“Ross, hey. It’s Tim. Do you have a minute?”

He wasn’t in the mood for another argument.

“Tim, if this is about Mattie—”

“She’s mad as hell at me for calling you, but no. This isn’t about her. Last she and I talked, she was happy to be getting discharged.”

“I’m finishing up a few things here at the house and I’m going to pick her up.”

“I’m glad you made it in time.”

“Me, too. Thank you for calling, all things considered.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“So what can I do for you, Tim?”

“Rumor has it you might be looking for work.”

“Good news travels fast.”

“Did Mattie tell you about the Carebridge expansion?”

“She mentioned something about it.”

Carebridge was about to break ground on a new memory care wing, something that had come too late to help Ross’s mother.

“You’ve been generous with donations and you’re good with the patients. We’re naming the unit in your mother’s honor, The Helen Reeves Center for Memory Care, and we need an on-staff psychiatrist. I thought—”

“Yes.” Ross leapt at the chance for change, and to have a life that more fully involved Mattie. He thought for a fleeting moment about what would happen if their relationship failed, but quickly decided that no matter what it took, he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I haven’t even told you the specifics yet.”

“Then tell me.”

“We’re offering a Director’s title, a position on the board, and a salary of fifteen percent above your current pay.”

“Twenty.” Ross figured he might as well negotiate.

“Fine, twenty.”

“That was easy. And the hours?”

“Monday through Friday, day shift. On-call for emergencies only, providing you’re flexible. We don’t have everything worked out and there could be more hours, especially in the beginning, but that’s short-term. We’ll do what we can to work with your schedule.”

“What about Mattie?”

“What about her?”

“Now that you know about her and I dating, I don’t want this to be a problem at work. I can’t take the job if it affects her.”

“Mattie is one of the good ones, Ross, and I’ve known you were dating since the beginning. You two aren’t the best at hiding things. I trust you both to keep things professional.”

“I’m sure we can manage. Does she know about this?”

“Not yet. I wanted to let you decide first.”

“Then the answer is yes. I want the job on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“I get to tell Mattie I’m taking it.”

Ross returned to the hospital after emptying his house, his heart firmly lodged in his throat. He knew if Mattie had left, she wasn’t the least bit interested in reconciling. Something told him she loved him too much for that to be the case. He smiled when he reached her room and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting. Her auburn hair had been tied in a side braid that cascaded over her shoulder and down the front of her red cowl neck sweater. A pair of black calf-high boots covered the lower half of her jean leggings. Without being told, no one would know she had been hospitalized. Ross had forgotten how beautiful she was out of scrubs.

“I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.”

“Where would I go?” She shrugged her right shoulder.

“You could have gotten a ride.”

“I could have, but you have me intrigued.”

“How are you feeling?” Ross piled Mattie’s things—a bag of clothes, her purse, and several floral arrangements—onto a cart and unfolded a wheelchair.

“I’m not going out of here in that.”

“Either I bring you out, or a nurse does. It’s part of the deal.”

“What deal?”

“The one I had to make to spring you from this place.”

“I was due to get out anyway.”

“True.” A young woman wearing crimson-colored scrubs entered the room, went over Mattie’s discharge instructions, and handed her a prescription for a painkiller Mattie insisted she didn’t need. Ross had never met the woman before and had forgotten her name as soon as she said it. He was too eager to get Mattie to the car, to tell her the news about Carebridge.

“Think you can give me a hand with her things?” he said to the nurse. “Or maybe you want to take the wheelchair?”

“I have to take the wheelchair. It’s policy.”

“I’m
not
riding out of here in that thing,” Mattie said.

“You could always stay,” the nurse said.

“Fine,” Mattie reluctantly agreed. She sat in the chair, put her feet on the footrests, and pouted all the way to the car.

Ross eased Mattie into the passenger’s seat, nodding thanks to the nurse as she headed back through the parking garage with the wheelchair.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ross unloaded Mattie’s things into the trunk.

“It was only slightly humiliating. Thank you for picking me up.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Ross slammed the trunk and got into the driver’s seat.

“For the last time, I’m fine. I’m not going to run a marathon any time this week, but that’s the extent of things. Stop asking.”

“Will do.” Ross started the car, taking several turns around the garage before pulling onto Main Street. He wiped his sweaty palms—one then the other—on his jeans and hoped Mattie couldn’t see how nervous he was.

“What’s wrong?” Mattie crossed and uncrossed her legs.

“With?”

“You look like you have something to tell me.”

She knew him too well.

“Tim called me today,” he said, “about the new memory care center.”

“About the dedication?”

Apparently she had heard it was being named after his mother.

“About working there. Tim offered me a director’s position.”

“Oh.” Mattie didn’t sound thrilled. “What did you say?”

“I said I wouldn’t take the job if it meant our relationship had to remain hidden.”

“So you admitted we were a couple.”

“
Are
a couple, Mattie.” Ross reached for her hand. “And I didn’t have to admit anything. Tim already knew. What’s the matter? I thought you’d be excited about this.”

“You’re going through a lot right now. Between Arlene Pope, the New York trip, and everything with work, you’re stressed and you’re reaching. I can’t be your crutch, Ross. Now’s not the time to try and focus on a relationship. I mean—” Mattie stopped mid-sentence and looked around. “Wait a minute. Ross, where are we going?”

“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What
else
?”

“Nothing bad. At least, I don’t think it’s bad.” Ross turned onto his street, hit the button on his remote, and pulled into his garage. “I want us to have a normal relationship. I don’t want to only be with you at your apartment.”

“We agreed—”

“I know what we agreed to, but let’s make a new agreement. No more agreeing to things that make no sense. You and I are meant to be together, Mattie. I know that now. Come inside, please?”

“I’m not comfortable.”

“We’ll get you right into bed.”

“I don’t mean my back. I mean I’m not comfortable
here
.”

Ross helped her out of the car and eased her into the house. “I’m trying to change that.”

Mattie’s eyes darted back and forth across the nearly empty space. “Were you robbed?”

“I might have gone overboard.” Ross had taken down pictures, the coat rack, and packed Sarah’s windbreaker. He had sent the recliner to storage, along with anything else that had been more hers than his. “I want to show you around.”

“Ross, I—”

“It’s not right for me to try and fit you into someone else’s life, Mattie. We need space to be
us
.”

“I know how much having her things around meant to you.”

“Not as much as you do.” He pulled her to him, expecting her to push him away, and kissed her when she didn’t. He wrapped his arms around her waist, careful not to hurt her and whispered, “I missed you” into her ear.

“I missed you, too,” she said tearfully.

Ross dried her eyes and stood squarely in front of her. “I love you, Mattie. I want you in my life. I want to take care of you, to nurse you back to health, to be the person you wake up with every morning. I want you to stay with me.”

“Here?”

“Would you do that?”

Mattie nodded. “I will,” she said. “If you’re sure.”

Ross led her up the stairs to the former guest bedroom he had moved into. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”