Page 2 of Heal For Me

I can’t believe this frail man lying in front of me is the man I spent hours with for weeks and hardly saw sit still for longer than it took to have a cup of coffee or tea. He was looking rough toward the end, but he seems so breakable now. Which, I guess he would be. It’ll never not amaze me how fast time flies by. He is ninety something, and while I have no idea what it’s like to live that long, I know what it is like to live as long as I have, and it feels like days but also centuries since I was young. I can imagine the same will be true once I am older.

That unfamiliar burn spreads in the back of my eyes once again. I lay my hand on top of his and drop my voice. “I promise to look after our girl.”

A sharp noise comes from Jethro, but I ignore him, say another goodbye in my head, and then move along. I hug or shake hands with each of Payson’s family members, and they thank me for coming. I’m not interested in hanging around sad people anymore, and my anxiety is through the fucking roof not seeing Payson, so we won’t be attending the wake.

I throw open the church door and suck in a deep breath of the frigid winter air. The sun is out, but it’s still freezing.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital. I have some things to do before heading up,” Jethro says as we head toward our respective vehicles.

I leave him and Mum to say goodbye so I can start my truck and get the heat going. The ground has a thick layer of snow over it now. Snow was definitely something I had to get used to when I moved to America, but after living in Colorado, I learned to love it.

Mum opens the door a second later. She drops into the seat and rubs her hands together, her jewelry clinking as she does.

“That was a beautiful service.”

I nod as I back out of my spot. Cars are lined down the street, and I’m pretty sure it’s a no parking street. That’s how much Paul was loved.

“It was everything he deserved.”

2

Ash

The elevator dings, alerting us we’ve reached our desired level. The walk from the elevator to her room is one hundred and three steps. You start to lose your mind the more time you spend here, so counting my footsteps is just something to pass the time. A nurse greets us on the way, Mum pauses to speak with her because she can’t bare not to find out the life story of everyone she comes in contact with.

I don’t wait for her, she can find her way to room 404, or the nurse can show her, but I’ve been apart from my girl long enough.

Opening the door to her room, I sigh in relief seeing her lying there, which is confusing because I would love nothing more for her to be up, walking around, or even just awake. I crave seeing her big green eyes on me again, but I also know what could happen when I do. Brain damage, memory loss. It’s all a worry. They say her brain is functioning how it should, and they’ve told me how lucky she is for that. Payson lost three quarts of blood and died officially for three minutes on the way to the hospital. I know what could happen when she wakes up, but I still hope she does. An alive and alert Payson who might not remember me is better than a Payson in this vegetative state.

I’m so busy looking her over I don’t even notice it’s not my brother next to her.

“How is she?” Janelle asks softly while stroking her hand.

I clear my throat of every emotion from the funeral and seeing her here. I made the call to her a few days after the incident, but her mum had already filled her in. She struggled to get a flight here, and I forgot she mentioned she would be up today.

“The same.”

Janelle stands when I stop next to her, then hugs me. My white T-shirt is damp when she pulls away. I removed my suit jacket, tie, and dress shirt before coming in here. My change of clothes are in the bag I dropped by the door.

Janelle doesn’t meet my eyes when we pull away, and guilt rips through me. I promised I would keep Payson safe, and I failed. The conversation in the hallway of the hotel comes barreling back in my mind. We should have listened to Janelle. I should have listened. Payson was so far down the delusion of cutting is helping, but I should have known better. I did know better and still allowed myself to be pulled into the delusion as well.

I was so mad at her, and looking back, I had every right to be mad. Pills? What the hell was she thinking? I still don’t know, but I know now I should have looked at the bigger picture. Why was she taking the pills? Was it because her knee? Maybe, at first, but I think she found out the numbness didn’t just stick to her knee. It left her feeling numb everywhere. How I didn’t see it, I don’t know. I was blinded and missed the warning signs. That alone will haunt me forever.

And when she opens her big beautiful eyes, I will never let my anger or need for her blind me from her suffering again.

As we stare at Payson, I don’t know what Janelle is thinking, but all I see is Payson wet, bloody, and lifeless in my arms.

“Ronni is here too.”

I glance around, then to the connected bathroom but the door is open.

“She is showing your brother the cafeteria.” She flicks a puzzled look my way. “He’s—”

“I know.” She flattens her lips the same as mine. “Why did he need her to show him?”

“He didn’t.”

I don’t know what the hell Henry is thinking, probably saw Ronni, heard she’s a model, and . . . it doesn’t matter. He’s definitely not getting involved with one of Payson’s best friends.

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