I wake up in a pile of debris. My heart sinks when I sit up and take stock of my surroundings. Remembering what led to this destruction has panic rising to the forefront of my mind. I stand on shaky, cramped legs. My neck is stiff, and as I move my hair back off my face, my finger lands on something sticky. I hope like hell it’s not drool. But if it’s not, then it’s probably snot. Shuddering, I drop my hair and walk out of the room, closing the door behind me without a backward glance. After showering and grabbing a breakfast bar, I head back to the hospital.
Not even the fluorescent lights in the corridor can send the darkness that accompanies my every step scattering. The nurse at the front counter said he’s still in ICU, a place I’ve never stepped foot into until yesterday. Not that I took much in. Even now, the beeping, the hushed murmurs, and the sorrow stifling the air doesn’t touch me.
Pausing outside his room, I peek my head in, only to be met with one of the best sights in the world. His smile.
“Vera …” His voice is hoarse, but it’s enough to have tears filling my eyes in a second. I walk right to him, trying to remind myself to be gentle and not to run. I dump my purse on the floor and drag the chair over to his bed. Grabbing his hand, I lift it to my cheek and close my eyes, absorbing the warmth from it. The reminder. He’s here. He’s okay.
He tsks. “Don’t tell me those big fat tears are for me. Not from the girl who’d rather eat dirt than shed a tear in front of anyone.”
I sputter out a wet laugh then drop my head to his bed and let the tears fall. He removes his hand from mine, using it to smooth my hair back from my face. “Shhhh, it’s okay. The old ticker just needed a bit of a reboot is all. Nothing to worry about.”
He continues to soothe me, and I feel like the biggest bitch in the world. I lift my head, swiping the tears from my cheeks. “I’m sorry. You’re lying here, and I’m …”
He lifts his hand, halting me. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”
My lips curve into a smile then I remember all that I discovered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He frowns. “Well, I didn’t know there was anything wrong myself—”
“No. Erica.”
His eyes close as soon as her name leaves my lips. He reopens them and sighs. “I don’t know. I always meant to eventually, but if I’m being honest, your father is what stopped me every time.” He looks over at me; his blue eyes tired but full of affection. “And my own selfishness, of course.”
“What’s he got to do with it?”
“Everything.” He stares at me. “I couldn’t believe it, that day you walked into my store.” He shakes his head, smiling. “I knew about you, of course. It’s just … we were warned, when we tried to see you after your mother left, not to try again.”
“Why?” But I think I know why. They’re a reminder of what my father lost. Just like I am.
“The day Erica brought your father home to meet us, I never expected it to last. But Mirabelle and I played nice and kept our mouths shut. And it soon became apparent that your father was quite attached to our Erica. A year after they met, they were married. Ten months later, you arrived.”
I’ve never even seen wedding photos of my parents. The only picture I’ve seen of my mother is a crinkled copy of her in her early twenties that lives in my father’s study, locked away in his drawer.
“You don’t think she should’ve married him?”
“I can’t really answer that. But I will say that Erica, since the time she learned how to walk, has always had an adventurous spirit.” He smiles again as if remembering. “She’d never sit still for long. Used to drive your grandmother crazy. I used to think it was our fault, that maybe her quiet childhood and afternoons spent in the bookstore had her longing for something different.”
He shifts, and I move to help him sit up, propping his pillow behind him. He thanks me and continues. “Anyway, she never contacted us after she left, besides the odd Christmas or birthday card. The last time I saw her was at Mirabelle’s funeral. She left again right after with some new fellow on her arm.”
“What did my father say when he told you to stay away?” I ask.
He looks like he doesn’t want to answer, but he does anyway. “I’m not proud of it, but you’ve got to understand, that bookstore was Mirabelle’s life. The only thing she ever wanted, and I couldn’t afford to buy her a new one, but I saved. I worked hard and saved every penny I could to buy her that one.”
My heart breaks further. But after everything that’s happened, I’m not surprised. “He threatened to take it from you.”
Badger nods, tears brimming his eyes. “I’m sorry. I tried to think of something else we could do, but we’d put everything we had into that store, and you’ve seen for yourself that it barely covers the basics. Mirabelle was furious with me because she wanted you. She was ready to set fire to the store just to spite your father.” He laughs quietly. “But she knew—we both did—that we were powerless no matter what we did. The more we tried, the angrier he got.”
“So you stopped.” It hurts, but I understand. No one wins against my father.
“We did.” He averts his gaze. “You look just like her, you know.”
“I know.”
His eyes meet mine again, and I don’t know how I didn’t see it. So many people have blue eyes, but something about looking into Badger’s eyes has always felt different. Familiar. Now I know why. “I’m sorry … but you’ve got to know, that day you walked in? I’ll never forget it. But if I had told you when you were young … And then when you grew up, I just never could bring myself to risk it.”
“He can’t control whether I see you or not anymore.”
“No, but you can. I didn’t know how you’d react, not after keeping it from you for so long.”
Taking his hand in both of mine, I give it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay.”
His shoulders seem to deflate as if me knowing this secret has freed him. I’m not mad; I’m disappointed I never knew, but it feels good to know I’m not as alone in this world as I thought. I only wish he would’ve told me sooner, especially if it’s caused him unnecessary stress.
He sucks in a sharp breath, and I straighten with worry that something’s wrong. “What happened to your hands?”
Oh. I stare down at them for the first time since yesterday. They’re covered in tiny paper cuts, and some of my nails are blunt while a few others remain long. “Nothing.”
“Vera …”
“A story for another time.” I throw one of his favorite sayings back at him with a tremulous smile.
He snorts, patting my hand. “Nice try. Is it Jared? Where is he?”
Pain radiates throughout every cell in my body at hearing his name. I mustn’t do a very good job at hiding it because Badger hums in understanding. “Oh, my dear. Whatever’s happened, I’m sure it’ll work itself out.”
Blinking away tears, I draw in a deep breath, terrified of the words that leave my mouth. “No, it’s over. It was a mistake to begin with.” I lift my shoulders, but the effort costs me strength I didn’t know I had. “I’ll be okay.”
I don’t know if I’m trying to reassure him or myself. I don’t know much of anything anymore. Who I am, what to do, or when this hurt might let up.
The door opens and in walks the same nurse I met yesterday. “Good morning, good to see you’re back. I’m Ashley, by the way.” She smiles at me and moves over to Badger, checking machines and whipping a thermometer out of her pocket.
“What’s going on? Do you have any idea what’s caused this?” I sit back in my seat, making sure there’s enough room for her to move around me.
“The doctors have already made their rounds this morning, and they suspect a heart attack. They want to run some tests later today, but for now, everything is looking okay.”
“What other tests?” My tone turns harsher.
“Vera,” Badger admonishes.
I shush him and turn back to the nurse who only smiles at me again. “They just need to check some things and make sure there isn’t a blockage—”
“And if there is?” I cut her off, not caring if I sound rude.
“Surgery. But we won’t know until we do further testing.”
Seeing my face no doubt pale, she smiles down at Badger. “You’ve got a worrywart over here. Care to tell her you’ll be just fine?”
Badger chuckles, and the sound has relief flooding into my bloodstream, warm and welcoming. He’s okay. I just need to keep reminding myself of that. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“No need to apologize.” She checks something on his chart then gives us a wave. “I’ll be back in a little while; hit the buzzer if you need anything.”
I watch her go and then it hits me, like a sucker-punch right to the gut. These hospital bills. He can’t afford them. And neither can I. Not anymore.
“Hey.” Badger brings my attention back to him. “Would you mind reading to me?”
My stomach curdles because I don’t know if I can. But looking at him, at his blinking eyelids that look like they might close any minute, I know I could never deny him. Even if it hurts. Because he’s saved me in more ways than I could ever hope to measure or dare to even think about.
So I grab my phone and open my reading app.