Page 10 of Like A Daydream
“Sweetheart, they didn’t make it,” her dad interjects, finishing what her mom can’t say.
Danielle shakes her head in disbelief. “I just talked to both of them this morning. They were going to come to the store today. I’m sure you got the news wrong. There’s no possible way that happened.”
“A lot can happen in a few hours,” her mom says, “they didn’t head into town until around noon.”
The ambulance.
Danielle and a customer hadwatchedit drive by and had both made a comment about it before carrying on with their lives.
“You’re telling me my best friend was on the ambulance that went through town today?”
“She could have been,” her father says, “but there’s no way to know for sure.”
“How did you find out?”
“Emerson’s brother called us to let us know.” Mom, this time.
“How would he know? He could have made a mistake!” Danielle says, desperate. “We all know that Erick doesn’t know up from down half the time, and that it’s a miracle he got through med school.”
Her eyes dart back and forth between her parents faces, trying to find the trick in them. Trying to find the ‘gotcha!’ and for Emerson to come in and say that it was an elaborate scheme to find out if Danielle really was her best friend.
She had hoped that Emerson wouldn’t be that cruel, but this can’t be real. There’s no way this can be happening.
“He was in the ER when they came in,” her dad says, reaching for her hand again. “He was the one who saw them unloaded off the ambulance. He called us after telling his parents.”
“I’m so sorry,” her mother says quietly, “I don’t know what else to say.”
“This is a joke, right?” Danielle asks. “Some sick joke that everyone is in on but me.”
She pulls her phone out and presses and holds ‘1’ on her phone. Em’s on speed-dial and she’ll answer when she calls. Danielle only ever called during emergencies.
The phone goes directly to voicemail. Danielle tries again.
Voicemail.
She sends a text.
danielle:my parents are trying to tell me you’re dead so you better call me back
It goes unread.
Danielle:EMERSON PICK UP.
Danielle:EMERSON NICOLE STEVENS
Danielle:PLEASE PICK UP YOUR PHONE.
She tries to call again. Voicemail.
This isn’t real.
This can’t be real.
“What happened?” she asks. “They’re both really gone?”
“Jack was DOA,” her dad replies, “and Emerson was gone ten minutes after she got to the hospital. There was nothing they could do.”
“Her parents know?” Danielle asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Erick told them?”
