Page 6 of Stick Around
“What?” Lauren whispered. “No.” She shook her head. “That can’t be right. Billy said Dad was talking and trying to sit up.”
“I’m so sorry, girls. We did everything we could.” Dr. Mackey stepped closer to the girls, reaching out a hand.
Madison pulled away, stumbling back toward the line of molded plastic chairs bordering the waiting room.
“No.” She flashed her wide eyes between the doctor, the nurses, and Billy. “No. That’s not true. Why would you fucking say that?” she screamed at the doctor. She turned to her sister. “Why would he fucking say that, Laur?”
Lauren expelled a short huff, but her face betrayed no sign of emotion.
The doctor stepped toward Madison, but she continued backing away, tripping over a chair and buckling to the floor.
“Madison,” he said, reaching toward her.
Slumped in a heap, her palms splayed out against the tile, Madison’s body lurched and a desperate, piercing wail erupted from her belly. The sound filled the room, drenching the other six inhabitants with its heartbroken tone.
Billy’s stomach jerked into his ribcage. Waves of dizziness and nausea crashed over him, and he was drowning. He yanked his eyes away from Madison’s crumpled body.
Grace.
He locked eyes with Grace, clinging to her gaze like a life raft.
In the corners of his vision, Lauren’s body curled into itself. Her arms wrapped around her stomach. Bernice and Diane moved toward her while Dr. Mackey knelt beside Madison and rubbed her back. Billy kept his focus locked on the speckles of brown and hazel in Grace’s eyes as the blurry figures moved around him.
This can’t be happening. Why the hell did I leave?
He begged his ears to shut out Lauren’s rasping sobs and Madison’s terrified wails, Dr. Mackey’s whispers, and Bernice’s gentle shushing. But their anguish coursed through his ears and into his chest, resting like polished carbon steel on his lungs.
I’m so goddamn sorry.
3
Grace
Grace flipped the visor down.She wiped her eyes in the small mirror, noting how puffy and red her face was even under the dim glare of her vehicle’s interior light. She ran her hands up and down her skin. The shift only lasted four hours, but it felt like a regular twelve. Bernice had called another shift of nurses in to replace them. Standard practice when a nurse had to assist in a death or serious accident involving someone close to them. With Silver Creek and the neighboring town of Snowbrook being so small, it happened all too often, so it had become an off-the-books policy amongst the nursing staff.
It was only a few short blocks from the hospital to her parent’s home, the home she had just moved back into after completing her nursing degree and returning to Silver Creek. She’d driven this street hundreds of times, thousands possibly. So, it was impossible to keep her mind focused on the road when it was racing with the consequences of the evening’s events.
A series of still frames of the evening played on repeat. Madison’s hair draped over her face as she sat crumpled on the waiting room floor. Lauren’s pale, blank face as Bernice and Diane led her to a chair. The blood caked in Brian Avery’s hair.
And Billy’s eyes locked on hers, fearful and broken. She shuddered and wiped away her welling tears. He was such a strong, intimidating figure. Seeing him so small, so frightened… it had taken everything in her not to race across the waiting room and hold him.
Turning on to her parents' block, Grace noticed a black silhouette slumped at the end of the driveway. Her heartbeat sped up. Silver Creek was a safe town, but it was one o’clock in the morning and there was no one else around; no lights on in the neighbor’s windows. She eased her foot off the gas as she crept closer to the driveway. Her headlights met the figure, illuminating two black boots, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket with a gray sweatshirt hood poking out from underneath. Electricity crackled across Grace’s skin.
Why is he here?
She left her purse in the car and walked to the end of the driveway. He didn’t turn to face her as she approached.
“Billy?” She spoke gently. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?” She looked up and down the silent, empty street. The sleet had stopped a couple of hours ago and the roads were still wet, but no longer icy. The black pavement shone under the streetlights. When he didn’t respond she returned to the car, opened the trunk, and dug out a woven blanket her parents had brought back from Mexico.
“How long have you been sitting here?” She placed the folded blanket on the sidewalk beside Billy and sat down.
He glanced down at her blanket and let out a soft chuckle. “Not sure.” His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to continue, but he looked away and rubbed his palms down his pant legs.
What do I say?
Butterflies always swirled in Grace’s stomach when Billy was around. But tonight, the flutter was darker, heavier than butterflies. A combination of empathy, grief, and desire that made her hands shake and her chin tremble.
“Are you looking for Noah? I can text him if you want.”
