Page 47 of Wildly Yours
"Does she know how to run this place?"
I nod.
"Then go tell her she's in charge and drive to the airport. We'll help you pack."
An hour later I have two flights booked, a bag packed, and I'm rushing to the local airport with Renée as she fills me in on the details.
Their father, John, had fallen down in the house and was there for a few days before a neighbor stopped by to borrow a tool and saw him through the window. They called an ambulance, and he's been in the hospital ever since. It took a few days for the nurses to find Cody, because John wasn't lucid. As the only next of kin that he mentioned, Cody was the only person they knew to look for.
"I don't understand why he wants to go down there. After everything he said last night."
When I think back on everything that has happened over the years, the answer is clear to me. Cody is not only deeply caring, but loyal. If he weren't, he wouldn't have worked so hard to keep us all safe from what he perceived as the real danger of his violence. And that loyalty, or something like it, is extending to the man that ruined his life. I'm sure he wants to put everything to rest. To make some peace if there is any to be had. To face his demons, and the source of those demons head on.
"Because he needs to finish this. He needs to know that he isn't like John. I think facing him one last time will give him that opportunity."
We pull into the regional airport and I grab my bag and rush in to catch the tiny plane that will fly me into the city to catch my interstate flight. My heart is pounding in my chest. I hope I'm doing the right thing. I don't want him to feel like I'm intruding on a private matter and push me away.
I run out to the tarmac and climb the stairs into the hopper just as I get a text alert from Hadley.
She has agreed to stay on as my employee on one additional condition—I make her an official manager. This girl has some stellar negotiation skills. Beaming, I tell her we can sit down to hash out her new responsibilities when I return. Knowing that this smart, capable young woman is helping me keep thingstogether while I rush to Cody's side fills me with pride. I've changed, at least a little bit.
One bumpy flight later, I'm waiting to board my second flight and scanning the internet for car rental deals at the next airport. Another text comes through, this time from Cody.
He tells me he's just arrived at the hospital, and the nurses are bathing John. He's in the waiting room until they can bring him in.
My heart is aching for him. I want to be by his side as he faces this down, but I hesitate to tell him I'm coming. Suddenly it hits me that I could be making a huge mistake. What if he is angry that I'm inserting myself in his pain and the drama of the past? What if he wants to say his goodbye or whatever else he needs to say, without someone watching and listening?
I shove those feelings into a box that I imagine sitting in my mind. With my eyes closed, I see the box clearly and I lock it, and surround it with barbed wire. I can't let my lack of faith take me down right now.
When we land, my heart rate kicks up a notch. I'm all in and Cody is about to see that, to know that no matter what has happened, I'm here so he can face down the past and turn toward the future.
I funnel with the crowd out of the plane and toward the exit, locating my car rental place. I can feel my pulse quicken as I fumble with paperwork and the damage walkthrough before receiving the keys. GPS set to the hospital, I turn on the radio and the air conditioner. It's hot as hell in Central California.
With the music playing a nineties grunge tune I try to focus on what I'm going to say. The nagging thoughts are trying to sneak out of my imaginary box, and I use the force of the music to push them away. I have to keep going—I'm only two miles away. I see signs for the hospital, and when I pull in, I grab the first parking spot I see.
Three calming breaths later, I grab my purse and step out of the car. The heat hits me like a brick. It's pressing against me, making my feet move slower than I intend. I don't know how people live in this, let alone work. This is the so-called bread basket of our country and I feel my skin cooking as I make my way into the lobby of the small hospital.
The seating area is blessedly cool, filled with people that look wrung out. I make my way to the counter and ask about John. The receptionist directs me to the second floor, in the hospice wing. Room 209. Exactly twenty stairs from the first to the second floor. I turn down the hall checking door numbers. This area is hushed, the hall dark. There's not a lot of action, and I'm sure it's to keep the patients and their families calm. I hear a woman crying as I pass the room adjacent to Cody's father's room.
The door is slightly ajar, but I can't see in. Just as I raise my hand to knock, I hear my name called. I turn and see Cody holding a bag of food, confusion written across his face.
"What are…how did you..I don't understand."
Every part of my body is rioting. My chest is constricting, my heart thundering. He must not want me here. Otherwise he would have reacted differently, wouldn't he?
"I didn't want you to be alone. I don't want you to ever think that you are alone in this. Or in anything."
He swipes at his eyes and lunges toward me, wrapping me up in his arms and squeezing me like his life depends on it.
"Thank you," he whispers, and as my chest and body relax, and the box in my mind dissolves, I know that I did the right thing.
He holds me for several moments, his breathing becoming deeper. Finally, he pulls back and looks at my face for several moments.
"Serena, I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry I let him come between us. That I didn't trust you enough as my closest friend, as the woman I loved, to tell you what happened."
"I'm here now, and I'm doing this with you."
"He was sleeping so I grabbed some breakfast. Are you ready to go in?"
