10 months later
Shapiro
If I would have known she only had ten months left …
“Dammit!” I slam my hand down on the steering wheel, the sting nothing compared to what I’m feeling inside.
I did this.
I let jealousy get the best of me. I fell for a girl who ended up falling for someone else and in return I didn’t just ignore her, I ignored Mama Ang and stopped visiting and I did it all without an explanation.
Mama Ang helped me be the man she knew I could become. Caring for me when my own mother couldn’t.
She tried, but when you grow up in New York and the streets are your playground I was bound to get into the kind of trouble she couldn’t handle. I was headed down the wrong path. Prison wasn’t an if, it was a when.
But Mama Ang fought for me. Hell, she even fought against me, but what she refused to do was give up on me.
Nope. I’m the guilty party.
I’m the fucking coward. I can’t even find the courage to face my family. I’m sitting in my SUV watching the funeral from afar, just so I don’t have to run into her. The woman who captivated me the moment I saw her wide eyes and sad smile.
Walking through my door, trusting that I was going to make it all go away, and I did. I offered her the same opportunity Mama Ang gave me. A new lease on life. Something to live for.
The problem? When I left Penny that day, I left a piece of me with her.
Mama Ang could see right through me. She sensed the connection before I could fully understand it and made me painfully aware every time I called to check on Penny.
“Frances, it’s been three months. I know you think you are protecting her, but you’re wrong. She needs someone like you in her life. She misses you.”
My passenger door opens and my twin sister, Freya, peeks her head in. “Hey, brother.”
Why did I get that door fixed?
“What’s up?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” She slides into the seat next to me. “Out of everyone here, I would have thought you would have been front and center. Well, you and that girl that stayed with her.”
“Penny.”
“Yeah, that’s her name …” She trails off.
“How does she look?” I can’t help myself. It’s been four months since I have heard from her.
Four.
Long.
Months.
“I don’t know. I refuse to see her that way. Mama Ang in the casket …” She shivers. “I hate funerals.”
“I get it,” I respond. I don’t have the nerve to tell her I wasn’t asking about Mama Ang, but about Penny.
“You going to be okay? Mom said you and Mama Ang had a falling out.”
“We didn’t have a falling out.” I bring my hands up, making air quotations. “It was just …” I rub my hands over my face. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about this today.”
“It’s not your fault, you know?” She reaches over to grab my hand. “She was alone and had a stroke.”
“Where was Penny?” I drop her hand, twisting around in the seat to face my sister who seems to know everything I missed out on.
“Apparently she moved out four months ago.”
“What the fuck?” I raise my voice, startling Freya.
“I don’t know who you are screaming at, but you better cool your tits, bro.” Freya reaches for the handle. “I need to get back to the funeral, but one piece of advice before I go.”
“If you must.” I wave her to hurry up.
“Forget this girl. If she doesn’t have enough respect to show up to the funeral of the woman who treated her like a daughter for all those months, then she doesn’t deserve you.”
“What?” I shake my head in disbelief. “What do you mean she didn’t show up?”
“She’s not here. She didn’t come.”
That’s not like Penny. When I called weekly to talk to Mama Ang she would go on and on about what they did that week or what they had planned for the next. And when I talked to Penny, she gushed about how nice it was to finally have someone she considers a mother figure. Penny loved her, and I know Mama Ang felt the same.
“Something’s not right. I need you to get out.” I throw the car into reverse waiting for Freya to get out.
“I can’t get out until you put it in park.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I shift it into park. “I’ll call you later.”
“You better,” she replies as she jumps out and slams the door.
I know Mom will be upset that I left, but how can I stay when someone Mama Ang cared about could possibly be in trouble?
Pulling out of the parking lot, dread fills my stomach as I reach for my phone. I may not have Penny’s number, but Nina will.
“Call Nina Sanders.”
Nothing.
“Damn it.” Straight to voicemail.
“Call Niki Sanders.”
Nothing.
“Shit!”
My foot becomes like lead as I watch the odometer slowly rise. The unknown scaring the fuck out of me. Seconds turn into minutes and I have no clue where I am or how far I’ve traveled when the phone rings.
I quickly answer. “Shapiro.”
“She’s in trouble,” a panicked voice comes over the speakers.
“Nina?”
“It’s Penny. She’s had an accident and …” She’s unable to continue as she sobs into the phone.
“Is she okay?”
Nothing.
“God dammit, Nina. Is. She. Okay?” I try to hold back. My body stiffens, my hands grip the wheel. Waiting for the answer I’m not sure I can bear to hear.
“Calm the fuck down, Shapiro,” Niki intervenes. “Penny’s had an accident. She’s alive and will eventually be fine.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just—”
“We are following the ambulance to the hospital,” she interrupts. “Just hurry up and get here.” The line goes dead. Niki ending the call before I can find out the details.
Tapping the screen to the navigation panel, I search for the hospital, the GPS notifies me that I’m forty-five minutes out.
Not giving a damn about the speed limit, or any law for that matter, I push it. The sooner I get there, the better. I have to make sure she is going to be okay.
It’s my fault.
“Fucking feelings!” I pound the steering wheel a couple times.
If I would have kept my emotions in check, we wouldn’t be here. I would have made sure I knew where Penny was going or what she was doing.
Instead I let it all get the best of me.
Never again.
I have let this happen one too many times and I’ll be damned if it happens again. This time, I’ll keep her safe.
Failure is not an option.
It’s crazy how one situation can take you from the present to a past you never wanted to repeat. One you hoped to forget over time, but this, right here, is one of those déjà vu moments.
Throwing my SUV into park, I run through the emergency room doors. The stuffy air with the undertone of bleach suffocates me as soon as the automatic doors close behind me.
Jogging up to the nurses’ stations. I holler out, “Penny Reed was brought in by ambulance. I need to—”
“Sir.” One of the nurses tries to interrupt, but I keep going.
“I need to know if she is okay. I’m here …”
“Are you family?” she counters.
“No.”
I know where this is going. There is no way in hell she is going to let me back there.
“Then I’m going to have to ask you to take a seat over there.” She points to the waiting room directly behind me.
My gaze swivels over to the waiting room. A TV plays quietly in one corner, while a couple kids bounce around in the other. They’re fighting over a magazine neither of them could read.
Seats are filled with children crying, people hacking and family members waiting to hear the fate of their loved ones behind the cold metal doors.
This isn’t for me.
“I think I’ll just step outside for a minute.” I turn on my heel, but before I could reach the doors, I hear Niki call out for me.
“Shapiro. Penny’s this way.” She waves for me to follow her.
“Thank God.” I close the distance between us, throwing my thumb over my shoulder. “That was too much.”
“I know, but Shapiro,” Niki says, lowering her head.
“What is it? What aren’t you telling me?” I try to move past her, but she holds out her hand. “Listen. I just drove two hours in less than an hour and a half. My great-aunt passed away and I didn’t get to say bye and her funeral was today. That girl”—I point over her shoulder, while I scan the area behind the windows—“is back there because I failed her.” I look down and Niki lifts her head. Her emerald eyes filled with worry.
“Listen. I know how you feel. I’ve been in your shoes. The feeling of helplessness, but when you go back there. Don’t ask questions. Just …”
“Do nothing?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Niki …” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Do you know what you are asking me to do?”
“Yeah.” She reaches up between us and lays her hand on my shoulder. “Look at me.”
Opening my eyes, I look at her, and in that moment, I understand. She is bearing the same look I have worn time and time again. Sometimes, no matter how much you want to help someone, they must want to be helped.
“She’s hurt pretty bad. I just need you to know that.”
“Shit.” I reach up gripping my hair in my hands.
“Let’s go. Nina will fill you in when we get back there,” Niki says while reaching over to alert the nurses’ station. “Heading back to Penny Reed’s room.”
With a quick buzz the doors open and as soon as we round the corner, Nina is coming out of a room.
“Thank God you’re here.” She meets us halfway. “She was asking for you, but they just gave her something to sleep.” Nina reaches out to stop a nurse. “Where’s the closest vending machine.”
“In the waiting room,” the nurse, who seems in a hurry, takes off, but hollers out, “but if you give me ten minutes I’ll be checking on your friend. I can get you something then.”
“Is it okay if I go in?”
“Yeah, but she’s out cold. Let her sleep. It’s part of the process.” Nina reaches out for Niki’s arm. “Why don’t we give him a minute and you can walk with me to the vending machine.”
“Hell no! That place is swarming with coughing, germ infested kids.”
“You work at a school?” Nina laughs.
“Usually nine out of ten is healthy. They are out there because they aren’t.”
Nina rolls her eyes. “We’ll be back in a few.”
“All right.”
Nina and Niki head toward the waiting room and I stand there, gripping the handle, scared to see what is on the other side of the door.
A girl who is broken, from a pain I could have prevented.
“Here.” The nurse from earlier hits the handicap button and the door opens. “I’ll have maintenance look at that.”
“Uh, thanks,” I reply, refusing to admit the door is fine.
I’m just a coward.
Taking one step at a time, I walk in to see Penny lying in the bed, IV’s attached. Wires tucked under the blanket leading to a heart monitor that is beeping a slow rhythm. Avoiding her face, I walk over to a window that gives me a view of the world outside. People coming and going. It’s amazing how one place can be filled with so much hope and so much sorrow.
Glancing over in the corner are two chairs, frayed with wear and tear. From visitor after visitor worrying over their loved one who was rushed here. Emergency rooms aren’t like your typical hospital patient rooms. These are sparse, but functional, for the unknown emergency.
Penny’s here because of that. Seeing the wires, I wonder what took place? Did they have to run around? Were there doctors and nurses surrounding her trying to save her life?
Shaking off the thoughts, I raise my head and look up to the ceiling, closing my eyes to say a silent prayer.
Help me. Give me the strength to get through this. I need you.
I’m not sure who I’m praying to, but in this moment, I feel a sense of ease. Maybe it’s Mama Ang. Is she here? When I used to call and check on Penny she would always say Mama Ang was her guardian angel. Could she be right? Is she here?
“I need you. I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.
As if she were here, I hear her say, “Frances, you have always known what to do. Just listen to your heart, boy.”
And just liked that everything becomes clear.
Picking up a chair, I carry it over to Penny’s bedside, taking a seat.
Her face is free from any marks, but her arms are sprinkled in fresh bruises and bandages cover some kind of scrapes.
Lying here she looks peaceful, yet by her appearance, you know what led her here was anything but.
“Penny …” My voice barely audible. “I promise, from here on out, you have nothing to fear. I’ll take care of you. And I swear on Mama Ang that I will find the bastard that did this to you.”
“Sir.” Penny’s nurse walks in with Nina following. “I need to get her vitals.” She makes her way toward the bed.
“No problem. I was just leaving.” I give her a curt nod. “Nina, you stayin’ here?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I have something I need to take care of. Don’t leave until I get back.” I rush out of the room and out of the ER to call in a favor from the man in charge.
Swiping my phone to life. I scan my contacts until I find his number and hit send. A few rings later he picks up.
“Ford Phillips.” My boss and the owner of the Spotlight picks up.
“It’s Shapiro. I have a situation and I need your help.”
After a few minutes of explaining what happened, he didn’t hesitate, knowing how close this hits home with me.
“You don’t have to say anything else. I’ll have my people get on this today.”
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate this.”
“We’re all family here. No thanks necessary.” He pauses. “Hey, Bianca is calling. I’ll talk to you later. Call if you need anything else.” Ford ends the call.
Ford Phillips, the man of opportunities, he didn’t care about my past when he offered me a job at Spotlight—New York. Then when that past came knockin’ on my door and I had no choice but to run. He didn’t slam the door. Nope, he asked where I was going and opened another one. Offering me a place to stay and a job that pays extremely well.
He didn’t have to help me, but he did and if there is ever an opportunity that I can repay the favor, I’ll be there.
Until then, I’ll take whatever he is willing to give to help me keep my promises to the girl who has already had so many broken.