Page 70 of Living La Vida Mocha

Bea and Jasper had joined me. They’d rushed to the window when they heard the sirens and sprinted down the street to the park when Carter didn’t respond to his phone.

“Let’s get going.” Bea was already at the corner. She didn’t have a jacket on and shivered violently.

I just stood there – frozen – watching as the flashing lights rounded the corner. Without warning, tears built and exploded down my cheeks, freezing into mini waterfalls near my chin.

Flashbacks and memories to a time a few years back. It was Dad all over again, and I wasn’t ready for the emotions pouring out of me. That was his last trip; the last time I saw him alive.

Everything around me was muted. Voices were foggy. Images were blurry. Even the cold didn’t seem that harsh.

“Let’s.... We’re … good here.” Her words were broken and senseless, and I watched her cross the street in a rough jog, but as I stared, it was like watching her in slow motion.

Jasper started after Bea, and once he was halfway across the street, he turned. “Come on, Cara.”

Still anchored to my spot, I couldn’t move. Breathing hurt. My heart hammered too hard, thunderously threatening to break all my ribs.

“Oh… for … loud.” Her voice stabbed punctuated the cold air but her mouth didn’t line up with the scrambled words I heard.

Jasper’s strong arm wrapped around my shoulder, and he shook me gently. “The first one is always the hardest. I know it was for me.”

With that, I blinkingly looked up at his sympathetic face. There was zero judgement behind his eyes.

“He’s fine. Come. You’ll see.” He encouraged and tugged me back toward the house.

Breathless, Bea stopped at the corner. “He’s going to be alright.” She crossed the street and met Jasper and me halfway, unexpectedly wrapping me in a hug. “You did the right thing, and he’s going to be just fine. Now, c’mon. It’ll be good for him to see you when he comes out of the fog.”

* * *

Cloaked in a haze, like a zombie strung out on too much caffeine, I followed them into the ER until I was abruptly stopped by the charge nurse and a pungent aroma of antiseptic.

“Family only.” Her tone was as strict as her hairstyle – not a single strand dared to escape the tight bun, and nary a hint of warmth emanated from her tight expression.

Jasper nodded and stepped back. I took two steps back to stand by his side.

Unconcerned, Bea moved closer. “What curtain?”

“6B.”

With that, Bea marched through a small group of white coats and pastel-hued outfits, heading to the back as if this wasn’t her first visit.

“Go follow her,” Jasper said, encouraging me toward the desk. “The nurse can take you back.”

Flinching but avoiding eye contact, I clasped my trembling hands together. My voice was just as shaky. “I’m not family. I’m just the girlfriend.”

“Just the girlfriend?” He tsked. “You’re important to him.”

I twisted my wrists and rocked on my feet. “As are you. You should be back there too.”

“Nah. I know my place, and my place is the chair warmer and coffee fetcher. You’re seriously not going?” He tipped his head toward the desk.

I shook my head and glanced down the endless corridor. Misery, pain, and suffering lined the hallways, and I had no desire to sneak by it. Nothing good happened behind those curtains, and remembering all the awfulness my dad went through made my stomach churn.

“I’ll wait with you if that’s okay. There’s a lot of…” I tugged my mitts off and shoved them into my pockets, scanning the emergency waiting room as I swallowed down a sizeable taste of fear. “Bad memories.”

Holding my elbow, he escorted me over to a bank of plastic chairs. We were the only visitors. Or people in the small space.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”