Page 9 of Every Chance After

Sometimes, it feels good to be fussed over.

Grady barks at the paramedic to do something—I don’t understand what. She shakes her head and rattles off numbers as they watch the monitor beside me. Best not to know. His fear tells me everything, anyway.

His sad eyes fall back to me, and his voice cracks when he says, “Marina, I’m so sorry. What can I do?”

I’ve never seen someone more distressed or vulnerable, not with me. His dirty face looks shadowed with guilt.Was it his fault?

In the same breath, I know it doesn’t matter. Unlucky. Cursed. Alone. Life changes as easily as the wind blows, and no one can stop it.

“No apologies. I mean it. Life must what life must.”

He manages a pained chuckle, and a tear falls down his scruffy cheek.

My grip tightens on his. “No matter what. It’s okay. Thanks for holding my hand.”

“Anytime.” He chokes up, almost surprised by it, like he’s unaccustomed to feeling. We’re probably both in shock—I know I am. He’s not the hand-holding type, and, until now, I’ve never been one to need it.

But today, everything’s different.

Bad feelings swirl again. “I feel woozy.”

“That’s normal. It’s the pain meds,” he says.

“We’re five minutes out,” the paramedic says. “They’re prepping for surgery.”

“Surgery?” I gasp. “I’ve never had surgery before.”

“It’ll be quick and painless. When you wake up, you’ll be patched up, and Ashe and your family will be there. Can I call anyone for you?”

I shake my head. “Just Ashe. There’s no one else.”

In my agony, worries swarm me. I don’t know what to expect from Ashe. Will he be angry over our failed wedding? Cora will be. Will he be disappointed in me? Upset? Or will he step up like the gallant knight I know he can be?

Or at least, Ithinkhe can be. It’s difficult to say; we’ve never had hard times before. The most upset I’ve ever seen him was when the local newspaper,The Seagrove Groove, misspelled his name in our engagement announcement.Ashinstead ofAshe. A misspelled name ranks pretty low on life’s list of inevitable challenges.

Chances for chivalry and swoon-worthy heroism are sorely lacking these days. But maybe that’s a good thing.

Sometimes, it amazes me—Ashe’s life. He’s never known poverty, grief, or illness. He’s never had to find a job or question whether he’d go to college. He’s got more stamps in his passport than anyone I know (our honeymoon will be my first). Even in high school, good grades and popularity came easily to him. It’s one of the things I love about him—his pristine life. It’s shiny and hopeful like the sun peeking out from behind rain clouds. Ashe has never known a truly bad day.

Until now.

The ambulance blares its sirens again, and the vehicle shifts to the right. My body starts to relax, as if it’s forgotten the wordsurgeryor the clamp poking my gut. The numbing effect overtakes me—I don’t like how out-of-control this feels.

The ambulance slides to a squeaking stop, and chaos ensues. Doors swing open. The gurney is pulled out, and a team meets us. Hurried words are exchanged—I can’t keep up. But Grady hops out with me and doesn’t let go of my hand, as if crashing into each other has affixed us permanently.

What a funny thought—but true, regardless. He and I will always share this memory and our unique before-and-afters of the crash. We may be strangers. We may never speak again. But we will always have this.

I hear Mr. Frisk’s monotone voice over the PA system, reporting that ferns are buy one, get one this week at Sunny’s, but I know I’m not there. My thoughts drift to strange places, strange, even for me.

PlayingThe Game of Lifeby candlelight, Mom telling me that the power company messed up,again, (it took over ten years for me to learn that electric companies don’t make mistakes), and her joyfully choosing the life path over the family path. She’d also complained about being forced to get married. Though I agree with her now, her statement felt bitter when I was twelve.

“Don’t you want a bigger family?” I asked her.

“That just means more people to disappoint you.”

Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, bringing me back to Grady as he hovers over me, and I sputter, “I thought I’d get a family today.”

“Eh, they’re overrated. Trust me,” he quips with a weak shrug.

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