WYATT
I woke up a little while ago, wondering where everyone was. Sitting in the coma, I heard, saw, and experienced the constant activity surrounding me. Now, there’s no one anywhere. No Doll, no Whiskey, and no Siren.
Just before dozing off, I asked Natalie that Circe be brought back. Honestly, I don’t have the heart to tell the story three times. I’ll wait until we’re all together. I kind of hoped that Doll and Whiskey would’ve been back already, but for some reason, they’re not.
Taking this time alone, I feel out my body pains. Lifting each leg straight is straining and tiresome, but manageable. My chest hurts when I try to sit up, but I think that’s just a side effect of being prone so long. The cast on my left arm is itchy as hell, and moving my fingers is difficult inside the plaster. They casted me from elbow to mid hand for stabilization, and it sucks.
My head is clearer than I think it’s been in a long time. Hopefully, I won’t have to rely on drugs. There’s a high probability of it happening, but now I’ll try to control myself better.
Then, there’s my Siren. I want her to understand how much she’s meant to me, and what it was that kept me sane inside that messed-up cerebellum of mine. Yeah, our relationship has been fast in terms of time together, but I’ve been in my head, thinking about her every second of the day. In the silence, all you do is think.
Pulling the side table back over, I grab a glass. Pouring myself some water, it mainly ends up all over the table. I’ve consumed at least two gallons of the fresh cool liquid, finding myself parched beyond measure. Dr. Callie said I might feel that way because of the drugs, and nurse Sali has been instrumental in refilling the jug. For all they’ve done, I’m immensely grateful, and Crown Industries will show that gratitude soon.
Hearing the door to the room open, I wait to see who’s coming in.
“Hey,” Doll says. It’s not a happy ‘hey.’ That gives me concern. Both Doll and Whiskey walk through, scowling.
“What’s going on?”
Looking at each other with glares and tight lips, they then focus their attention onto me with those same wide-eyed, ‘he knows something’ stares. “Nothing,” they say in unison.
Shaking my head, I turn to Whiskey, expecting a better response. He’s tight-lipped and stoic, but whatever the two of them are hiding, I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough. Nothing stays hidden for long.
“You look better, Cas. Do you need anything?” She hasn’t called me Cas for weeks. I’ve listened. It’s been Wyatt.
“I’m good, China. Actually, better than good.” Pulling up the chair that had been pushed out of the way when Circe visited, Doll plops her long lithe frame into the seat, looking upset. “How was your ride?”
Her eyes bug out before she quickly schools her features. “Great. Uneventful, and somewhat relaxing.”
“Glad to hear it. I was feeling bad you were stuck here.” Pulling the cord that holds the button for the nurse and depressing it, I wait for Sali to arrive. Pushing up a bit taller in the bed, I power it into a sitting position.
“Yes, Mr. Crown,” Sali greets.
“Could you please contact Natalie and Circe? If they’re not too busy, I’d like to see if they’re available to come back now.”
“Yes, of course.” Taking the uneaten tray with her, Sali leaves the room quickly.
“I could have called her or gone down. Sali didn’t have to, Wyatt,” Doll says softly. She’s being sweet and nice, quiet and reserved. Nothing is more out of character for her. Something definitely happened today with these two clowns, and I’ll get to the bottom of it quick enough. But it’s not my priority. Telling them what happened that night is.
“Whiskey, can you grab a couple more chairs from the hall? We’ll need them.” He pockets his phone and nods. Once he’s gone, I ask Doll, “You’re not getting out of telling me what’s going on. Whatever it is between you two, I will find out.” She purses her lips.
Nodding and leaving with a tight smile, she starts off. “I’ll go help James.”
There are times when our Crown stubborn streak is too much to take. I’ve learned over the course of this new predicament that life is too short, and not to sweat the little things. The one thing I do know is that I won’t be left to figure this out alone. They’ll be absorbed into the foray whether they like it or not.
Between my brother and sister, the two of them bring in three chairs. They’re uncomfortable steel contraptions, but they’ll do.
Holding the door open, poking around the opening with a grin, Sali enters. “Mr. Crown?”
“Please, call me Wyatt.” Her eyes widen and she visibly looks flustered.
“I’m sorry.” She weaves her hands in front of her, then finishes what she came to say. “Mrs. Matcheson and Ms. Maco will be down in a few minutes. Is there anything more I can get you? How is the pain?”
“I’m good, thanks. If you could give us about an hour of quiet without interruptions, that would be perfect.” She nods, smiles, then leaves me with my mischievously sullen sister and brother.
I speak to both of them. “I want to make sure everyone is here. It’s a story I don’t want to go through more than once.”
As the two of them settle into their chairs, there’s a light knock on the door. “Hello?” Natalie says as she walks through. Backing Circe in slowly, Whiskey grabs the door.
“How is my Siren today?” I ask Natalie. I can’t see Circe yet, but I’m expecting the smile to creep across my girl’s face as I ask about her in the third person.
“You just had to pick up the phone and ask. I’m just down the hall. I’m sure if that was too much, you could have sent a carrier pigeon, or attempted Morse code.” Sardonic wit. I missed that smart mouth of hers.
“Come over here, Siren.”
Pushing her daughter close, tucking her in tight where she sat the other day, it’s not close enough. I need her with me. Pushing up a bit, scooching across the mattress to the far side, I want her to join me on the tight bed. “Sit with me,” I say.
Lifting from the chair with her good hand, Natalie assists her to the surface. Tucking in tight, I needed this like I need air in my lungs. As she settles under the covers, pushed right against my side, Circe lays her free hand under the cover. Touching my leg, it makes me want to be alone with her. It reminds me that so much has changed, in us. In me. In the family dynamics of the Crown’s.
Because that’s what this is.
This is our new family.
“I’m sure you’ve met China, my sister, and this is Jamieson, my brother. Natalie Matcheson is Circe’s mother. Make her feel at home with us without fault. She’s a part of this new family too.” I kiss Circe on her forehead. “Our family has dwindled away. We need to care for it.”
Looking around, everyone’s quiet, soft and calm as they wait. I’m still not happy with this new burden, but I’ll come to that later. For now, I have a lot to say, and no one but me can.
Thinking of what will start this right, an apology is what comes to mind. “I’m sorry.” Turning toward my sister, she moves to say something, but I motion for her to wait. “I’m sorry for how much this will hurt to hear. Everything this year has made us stronger as it tore us down. But it also brought us together.”
Thinking on that day, I take a deep breath. “Doll, you’d just gone out with the girls, and Whiskey wasn’t expected to land until later. Mom was a flurry of emotions all morning, and I’d done my best to avoid her. All day, I did everything I could to stay far away. Around lunchtime, she’d called me over, asking me to join her in Dad’s study. I was pissed off. The last place I felt she deserved to be was in there, but I knew if I didn’t go, it could get bad. I was so mad. It felt like a violation of his memory to have her in there pulling it apart, ripping his soul to pieces. I was reluctant to, but I’m glad I did. She was on the floor, crying, pouring over pictures of us. There was a moment when I saw her for who she was; a woman grieving. She was lonely. She was lonely without him there, and she’d pushed us away so often that we didn’t want to be near her.”
Looking at each of them, Doll is tight and closed off with her arms crossed over her chest, holding herself together, but holding us at a distance. Whiskey is indifferent as usual. His eyes dart around the room, looking for an exit. He never felt her love any more than I did.
“We sat there on the floor for hours, laughing, flicking through pictures of Dad and us. It had been years since she’d gone in his room.” Absently stroking the skin on Circe’s arm, I think about it. I’m smiling, remembering what it was like when I saw her that day. I was ecstatic at how easily we got along. “She explained to me that she suffers from the same thing I do, manic moments that swing depressive.
“Dad was her fix. He was her drug of choice. When her episodes would take hold, he would pull her from her despair. His joy, and his infectious love would bring her happiness. She’d always hoped that us, her children, would be the joy that made her feel whole. And yes, we made her happy. We gave her joy in what we did, but it wasn’t the same. She told me how sorry she was that she’d made us feel unwanted and unloved. She loved us, she just couldn’t express it.”
Rising from the chair, Whiskey paces the tight quarters. He hadn’t been a part of this family for years. Dragging up the idea that she actually loved us might be too much for him to handle. Personally, I think he fights the same internal war we all fight. We deal with our own demons in different ways, only Jamieson ran to avoid the trigger of Marca Crown.
“Being trapped away in my head, I see it now. The way I was wasn’t living. I was a ticking time bomb, just looking for the next best rush.” Kissing Circe, showing her how much she means to me is a driving need. I can’t get enough of her. I might be trading one high for another, but she’s my personal heroine. Until I was locked away in my head, I hadn’t noticed how much she’d meant.
“Doll?” She’s trying to blend into the walls. “Did you know I heard you?” The confused look on her face tells me she doesn’t understand. “Every day you sat here, bitched about how I needed to wake up, told me about your troubles, and nearly starved because of the food here. I was here, in my head, listening.” Tapping the side of my head, I smile. “It was therapeutic hearing your voice.” I look over at my sullen brother. “And Jamieson. I wanted to tell you what you wanted to hear. I heard your hurt and I need you to know, I’m here for you.”
Stopping his pacing, Whiskey turns his chocolate eyes my way. Tears threaten his gaze. Nodding his head, the emotions he normally holds at bay surface, showing me how much he cares. In one sentence, he says it all. “Same. I’m always here for you, Wyatt.”
Choking back the emotions, I continue with the story. “Mother wanted to come with me to get Circe at the airport. We’d already started talking, and I guess she just wanted to keep the dialogue going. So we took her car. Mine didn’t leave enough room for luggage and an extra passenger. Things were good.” I squeeze Circe’s hand, knowing she’s thinking on her panic attack. I know she’s blaming herself for the predicament. “We talked more about what she planned for each of us, and I listened for once. Everything was fine at the airport. On the way home, from what I gather, a transport lost its wheel in the other lane. It jackknifed and careened into us, bouncing us a few times against the guardrail. We were flipped. Circe, had loosened her belt to grab Mother’s phone that fell. I think that’s what saved you.”
Pausing for a moment, I remember what it was like, what it looked like. Turning, I talk directly to Circe. “I remember waking at one point while they were cutting me out. I couldn’t find you, Circe. Panicking, I freaked out. I thought you were thrown free, but the first responders told me they’d already pulled you out.”
I won’t tell them what it looked like to see mother’s eyes wide in death. The blood slowly dripping from her head onto the white roses, the moment you know you’ve seen someone depart. I won’t leave them that reminder. I’ll keep it to myself. “As we laid there, waiting to be pulled out, I could see her reflection in the rearview mirror. The cracked and split glass showed serenity.” Shaking off the memory, I continue. “She was at peace. That’s all I saw. I didn’t see her hurt, I didn’t see her pain. I didn’t see anything but her heart at ease.” I can’t contain the tears any longer. “The day had given me something I hope we’ll always treasure. She loved us. I know she wanted to give us a second chance at loving each other as a family should.”
I’ve told them everything, all of it right to the end. I think Mom would be happy and content that her children were together. That in the end, she had brought us together. Now, it’s up to us to keep that intact.
Turning to my sister, I see that Doll is shell-shocked. Her face is guarded, her posture is still, tight, and contained. She’s expressionless. For once, I don’t know what she’s thinking, and I don’t know exactly how to help. Tears stream down her face, and whether they’re of happiness and peace, or despair and sadness, I’m okay with it mentally. Even if physically I’m a bit damaged, I know we’ll make it through this together.
Whiskey has stopped his pacing. Standing still in the room, looking at me with an expression I can’t read, a lone tear streaks down his cheek. As he brushes it away with the back of his hand, he looks away. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he turns to the door quickly. “I need to go out. I’ll be back later to check on you, Cas.”
I’ll give him all the time he needs to deal with this. “You’ll be back soon, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. Growing up, I always saw him like Dad in stature, but in his expressiveness and contained rage, it was Mother all along. Pulling open the door, he leaves.
Rising from the chair, gathering her thin coat and purse, Doll leaves without a word after Whiskey. I know they’ll be okay, and I know we’ll figure out how to deal with this, but it still hurts that they left.
Natalie is pulling Kleenex after Kleenex out of the box beside her, dabbing her face to staunch the flow. I have the feeling I’ll love this woman just like I love her daughter.
I ask Circe, “Did I do right by them? Was it too much too soon? Too little? Should I have given them more time to deal with me awake before telling them?”
Stroking my face, she smiles up at me. It lights up my soul. My sleeping mind imagined this so often that it still doesn’t feel real. Kissing just above my collarbone, Circe tells me just what I need to hear.
“You did it just right, Wyatt. They haven’t had weeks to deal with it like we have. Give them time.” Pulling her toward me, I kiss her on the mouth. It’s a simple peck, but it’s sweet and gentle.
Clearing her throat, Natalie rises out of the chair. “Speaking of time, I’ll give you a bit of time to yourselves.” She tucks Circe’s wheelchair into the side of the bed. “When you need me, just hit the button.” Leaving the room, closing the door with a resounding click, I find a small part in my heart for her.
“What a lovely woman,” I tell her after her mother leaves us. Stroking the beautiful russet hair that has been monopolizing my dreams for weeks, Circe smiles.
“She is. I’m glad she searched me out. We needed it.” Pulling her closer to me, I turn as much as I can to touch every inch of her body available to me. This is the first time we’ve had time to speak to each other without interruptions, or chaperones, and I need to just know she’s real.
Thinking on the one thing that makes this feel real, I tell her what I’ve come to almost say as a mantra for us. “Where have you been?”
Smiling and turning slightly, she says, “I called out for you every day.” She taps her head. “I was here, waiting.”
Thank you for waiting seems appropriate, but so short of the emotion I wish to convey. “I know everything has been fast. Like, light speed fast, but I love you, Circe.”