Torn (Connections #2)

Torn (Connections #2) Page 37

“No, just you.”

I sit with him and neither of us talks at first.

He shifts slightly and whispers in my ear. “You know you’re just like her—amazing.”

Suddenly, I realize why people whisper in hospitals. It’s not because they don’t want to face what’s before them, it’s to ease the mind of those around them, to lessen the pain. Facing him, I swipe the hair from his forehead and stare into his green eyes. I can feel a single tear drip down my cheek and he wipes it away. Brushing my lips softly to his I say, “Thank you,” and hug him as tightly as I possibly can.

Glancing up, I see Ben behind us just staring. He gives me an odd look and then heads back to the room. After a while, I get up and take River’s hand. “Come on, come with me.”

“I don’t think I should, but if you need me I’m right here.”

I smile at him and squeeze his hand. “I know.”

When I walk back into the room, Serena wipes her tears away and stands. “I’m going to grab some coffee. Do you want some?”

Ben and I both decline.

When it’s just him and me, the silence between us is deafening. He looks up from his chair beside Grace and says, “It’s my fault, you know.”

Looking at him, I feel anger and then a wave of sympathy. I don’t say anything, but I slide my chair around the bed to sit next to him. I take hold of Grace’s hand, and it’s so cold. I just sit there, not sure if my touch offers her any comfort, but it feels like the right thing to do. Ben stays silent for the longest time and the tension between us seems to say it all.

“Dahl, did you hear me?” he asks with sorrow in his voice.

I try to ease his pain. “It’s not your fault, Ben. Strokes aren’t caused by other people.”

Placing his hand on Grace’s arm, he looks over at me. “Maybe not, but I can’t help but think she wouldn’t be here if I never came back. Everything’s a mess. I’m just so sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. I’ve always loved you, even though my actions didn’t always show it.”

I can’t believe he’s using this time and place to atone for his mistakes. He hesitates only for a moment before edging closer to me. He runs his finger over my wrist, where his bracelet had adorned my arm until yesterday. I start to move away but something feels wrong. His eyes . . . they’re filled with remorse, grief, and maybe even loneliness. That wave of sympathy I felt earlier now shatters me. My eyes close in a subconscious effort to block out the bad memories. He clutches my hand tight to his face, and, for a few heartbeats, I leave it that way until a high-pitched sound fogs my senses, and then quickly brings reality crashing down.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor changes to one long tone. It’s a constant high-pitched whine, no breaks in between. Just a long, flat, piercing sound that penetrates my ears. Doctors and nurses flood the room. Time seems to slow while at the same time the room comes alive. Backing away, I watch the clock tick as they desperately try to bring her back, but she’s already gone. I know she is. The nurses rotate through compressions and give nervous glances to each other as the seconds pass. The doctor grabs the paddles from the cart. “Clear,” he yells and I twitch at the same time Grace’s body does.

And then, just like that, all efforts stop as they let her go. But this can’t be real. I’m here, she’s here, but things will never be the same. I can’t stop staring at her. Her lips are parted as if she’s in midsentence and I wait for her to say, “Dahlia honey, where’s your umbrella?” But she doesn’t.

Serena stands in the doorway, looking blankly at the bed. Ben rushes to his mother’s side, and I hear him screaming, “No, Mom. No.” Serena goes over to him and as I watch the two of them, I start to back away from the deafening sound. It’s only purpose is to alert us to what we already know—Grace is gone.

Serena pulls Ben to her and everything in the room seems to cloud over. Sadness, anger, disbelief, guilt—they’re all fighting for their place inside me and I just want out of this skin. All of the sounds, voices, movements, and bodies around me form a big blur and I feel like I’m suffocating. A sob rises in my throat and I quickly turn to escape the room. I run down the long corridor and it suddenly seems stark white. The automatic doors open, allowing me to flee out into the safety of the rain. Finally, I can breathe. The rain falls down harder and harder as I let the tears flow at the same pace, the tears I’ve been holding in so I could be the stronger one.

I cry for time that won’t stand still, for losses that should never have happened, for friendships broken, for mistakes made, for my pain, and most of all I cry for Grace. Especially for Grace.

I try to understand why death takes a person from you, but not the relationship. It leaves you to carry on with only half of what you need to make things whole.

Lifting my arms out to the side, I raise my head up toward the heavens and scream, “It’s not fair. Do you hear me? It’s just not fair.” My scream turns into a whimper before I finish and my anger transforms into sorrow as the reality hits me that no matter how mad I am or how sad I am, she’s really gone.

Water drips from my hair, absorbs into my clothes, and soaks me to the bone. Grief besieges me as I feel another piece of my soul chipped away and I wonder how much more could possibly be left. How much can one person take until there is nothing left—to take or to give?

“Dahl,” Ben yells and my name sounds desperate on his lips.

“Dahlia,” River calls and this time my name sounds calm, tranquil.

I turn and see him standing in the doorway to the hospital entrance.

“River!” I cover my mouth and shake my head.

“I’m sorry,” he calls out to me and I run to him, because I don’t want to run any other way. I jump into his arms and hold him and I know that what’s left of my soul is for him.

Chapter 26

Everybody’s Changing

Since Grace died, I just can’t shake the feeling of being a little lost. She taught me so much—she was always there for me. I loved her so deeply. Tears threaten to spill again, and I start to worry that I might not be able to keep it together. River’s lying beside me in bed, rubbing circles along my back and asking me what he can do for me. I know he’s unsure of what to do or say and so am I.

All I want is not to have to think about her being gone so I close my eyes and drift off again. When I wake up, I’m alone. It’s dark and I take a moment to compose myself before making my way into the bathroom. But once the coolness of the tiled floor hits my feet, I want it to numb me all over. To take away the grief and help me get through the next few days. And most of all, I want it to help me say goodbye to Grace.

Dropping down onto the floor, I bow my head in my hands and let the tears fall yet again. Sitting there, I have to wonder how many tears a person can shed for loved ones lost before they’re all dried up. Suddenly, the bright lights blind me and I squint at him standing near the door.

“Dahlia, are you okay?”

I nod.

“What are you doing?”

He looks terrified. His hands reach under my arms, lifting me up. I can tell he’s worried I’m sinking fast and won’t be able to pull myself up. But as I stare into his eyes, I know I will be okay. I have to be. For him.

On his lap now, I push the hair from his eyes. “Hey, I’m okay.”

He strokes my check. “You sure?”

I nod and stand up. Reaching for his hand, I lead him back into the bedroom. “Can I show you something?” I ask as I open the curtains and see it’s a beautiful sunny day. It finally stopped raining.

He sits in the chair and just looks at me as if uncertain of how to answer. It’s a look that makes me smile. “It has nothing to do with sex, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Almost horrified, he tells me, “No, that’s not what I’m thinking at all.”

“I know, I’m just kidding, silly.” I want to reassure him and let him know that even though I’m sad, I will be okay.

My mother’s hope chest is old, and the creamy-white paint is almost completely peeled off. Bending down to reach it, I open the lid and realize I haven’t looked in here in a long time, not since the break-in when I had to put everything back in it that wasn’t destroyed.

I smile when I see my dolls, yearbooks, diplomas, and various mementos. As I’m digging through the contents, I feel his arms wrap around my waist and he hugs me tightly. I clutch his arms and squeeze him back for a few seconds before moving to sift through the items for what I want to show him.

When I find it, I have to hold it close to my heart first. Then I turn to hand it to him. Smiling, I point to the small, blond-haired girl in the photo, surrounded by seven adults. “For my tenth birthday, when my parents asked what I wanted, it was an easy choice—I wanted to meet Elton John. My mom started to say no, but my Dad just beamed at me and told me of course he could arrange that. And he did.”

I look at River and he’s studying the picture as I move across it with my finger, “That’s Grammy, Auntie, Uncle Scott, Mom, Dad, Grace, and that is Sir Elton John himself. My dad even managed a private show before the concert where Elton John sang ‘Believe’ and then ‘Happy Birthday’ to me.”

River leans over and kisses my cheek. “Wow, what an awesome birthday present, especially for a ten-year-old.”

I grin because I remember that day so vividly.

He looks at me and in complete seriousness asks, “Why Elton John and not Hootie and the Blowfish or someone a ten-year-old might gush over?”

“Because of Grace. Elton John was her favorite. Every day after school I stayed with her until my parents came home. We would sing ‘Crocodile Rock’ and ‘Bennie and the Jets’ so many times, Serena threatened to throw the CD away and Ben would run and hide in his room. Neither of them liked Elton. But Grace and I loved him and she always said meeting him was one of the best days of her life.” I notice he didn’t even flinch this time at the sound of Ben’s name.

River takes the picture and walks it over to the dresser, standing it on display next to the one of my parents and me. “How about we leave it out so we can both enjoy that memory?”

I nod and as I start to close the chest, I notice the screwdriver that Ben had put in there so long ago and know what I have to do to stay close with Grace. But the doorbell breaks me out of my thoughts as I take the screwdriver and close the chest.

Before either of us moves to answer the door, Xander is yelling, “Loverboy, Muse, we’re coming in so you better be decent.”

I look over to River and I can see he’s somewhat unsure about this, but the light in his eyes tells me he’s happy. Just hearing Xander’s smart-ass voice like everything is okay between them warms my heart. I hold out my hand and he grabs it. Leading the way, I squeeze it tightly and he does the same. Odd that I’m the one reassuring him right now. It makes me feel a little more whole.

The front door is still open as we enter the foyer. Looking into the family room I can see that Xander is standing near Bell, who has a shopping bag in one hand and is pointing with the other. She’s giving orders to Garrett about where to set the tinfoil-covered pans of food, Nix is lugging in a cooler, and Xander is just standing there, his arms crossed, watching the scene unfold.

We stand in the foyer and River clears his throat. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Xander’s eyes shift to River. “Talk to your sister. She insisted we bring dinner over.”

River looks at him. “Thank you for that.”

He looks back. “No problem. Actually, we all wanted to be here for the both of you.”

My eyes move to Bell, who looks a little apprehensive as she shrugs her shoulders and I give her a warm smile, assuring her that our relationship is intact. Then I shift my gaze to Xander. “Thank you, Xander.”