Across the Creek (18 page)

“You’re his brother. I barely know him anymore. Not since we were kids. Besides, he’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want to see me again.”

Robbie didn’t believe it. He saw the way Jesse looked at her. Never had he seen such a lovesick look with any other girl Jesse had been involved with. There was no way Jesse would not want to see Sarah again. She meant too much to him. “Trust me. He’ll listen to you.”

Sarah uncrossed her arms and sat up straight. “Do you really think Jesse would sell the pet shop?”

Robbie nodded. “In a second. He can’t help himself. Ever since—” He paused, looked over at the tattooed inmate whose visitors had just arrived: an attractive woman with two young boys, probably five and seven years old, each holding an action figure. Robbie remembered when he and Jesse were young. Jesse had always tagged along behind him. Thank goodness that had all changed. This was no place for a guy like Jesse.

“I understand the whole brother thing. But why is he is so protective of you?”

Robbie leaned forward and spoke just above a whisper. “Now that’s something you’re going to have to ask him yourself. What I will tell you is that he thinks he’s repaying me.”

A curious look crossed Sarah’s face. “Does he owe you a debt?”

“No, he doesn’t owe me anything. But try telling him that. Like I said, he’s stubborn. The most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Must be a Malone thing.”

Robbie noticed the tattooed inmate reach up and wipe a tear from the attractive woman’s face. He thought about Felicia. She still didn’t know he was locked up. How could he tell her that the man she was having a baby with was a loser? Then he noticed the younger boy handing the tattooed man his action hero. He bit back tears, realizing that he would never get to see his child’s first steps or first birthday or experience all the things that made growing up so memorable. The handcuffs made it difficult to wipe away a few loose tears that had escaped the walls of his eyelids.

Sarah followed Robbie’s line of sight. Then she placed a hand on his and said, “I’ll do it.”

Jesse

Jesse forced the accelerator down like a hammer. His temper climbed along with the orange needle on the speedometer. “How could you be this stupid?” he shouted, slamming the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. He should have seen this coming. Anything to do with Ernie Montico was bad news. “I should have kept a closer eye on you, Robbie.”

His phone chirped; the caller ID read Aunt Sherry. He shook his head and prepared himself for the verbal attack. He flipped open the phone and listened while Aunt Sherry released an earful of frustrations onto Jesse. When she stopped for a breath he chimed in: “I didn’t wait for you because I wanted to handle this by myself. You don’t have to deal with this.”

“Jesse Malone. Are you trying to tell me that I can’t handle this?” Jesse hoped it was just a rhetorical question. Aunt Sherry was great, but when it came to a crisis, she wasn’t exactly calm. Jesse had broken his arm at the park when he was fourteen and Aunt Sherry passed out when she saw him. She ended up getting stitched up in the hospital bed next to him.

“Of course not. I just thought—”

“No you didn’t, Jesse. You didn’t think at all. When I came over to tell you about Robbie, I didn’t mean for you to get up on your white horse and rescue him by yourself.”

“First of all, it’s a red truck.” He paused, hoping the humor would ease her anger. “Second of all, I’m not going there to rescue him. I’m going there to murder him. Assuming his cellmate hasn’t done that already.”

“Now that’s not funny. Robbie’s had it rough.”

Robbie’s had it rough
. If only he had a quarter for every time he had heard Aunt Sherry say that. “I know. I know.” He agreed to avoid hearing the entire speech. “Listen. I just wanted to go find out what’s going on. Talk to him. And see if there’s any immediate damage control I can do. Then I’ll come get you and we can go see him together.”

Silence on the other side. This couldn’t be good.

“Aunt Sherry? You still there?”

“I’m here. I’m not happy. But I’m here.”

“I’ll call you in a little bit, okay?”

“Fine. But be careful, and don’t be too rough on him.”

“All right. Talk to you soon.” He hung up the phone feeling relieved that she didn’t make him turn around and pick her up first. And for the first time since he got into the truck, he felt his blood pressure stabilizing.

The sun had begun its descent by the time Jesse pulled into the parking lot. He hadn’t called to find out what time visiting hours ended, but he was hoping for just twenty minutes with Robbie. Long enough to get the scoop and figure out what the next move should be.

He parked his truck in a visitor’s spot and headed for the entrance. Just as he was about to open the door, the last person he expected to see at a place like this walked out.

“Sarah?”

“Jesse, how’re you doing?”

“I’m fine,” he said, blinking as if at minute, she’d vanish like a stress-induced mirage. “What are you doing here?”

She adjusted the purse around her shoulder. “Robbie.”

“Robbie? How did you know he was here?”

“He called me.”

“What?” This had to a mirage because there was no way Robbie would call Whispering Meadows Sarah, and certainly not from jail. “When?”

“This afternoon. He said he needed to see me. That it was important.” She remained dispassionate, as if she had something better to do.

“Oh really?” Jesse asked, crossing his arms.

Sarah nodded. After a silent pause she added, “He was worried about you.”

“Let me get this straight. He was worried about
me
, so he called you.”

She nodded.

“Doesn’t he realize which one of us is in jail?”

Sarah didn’t reply.

Jesse ran a hand through his hair and took a step back. He watched as cars drove past, trying to make sense of everything. Then he remembered the reason he drove here in the first place. “What did he steal? Or should I say how much did he steal?”

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know. He said he was being charged with breaking and entering. But he didn’t give me the details.”

“Breaking and entering,” Jesse said, shaking his head. A felony. “That’s just great. Did he tell you that this is strike three?”

Again, Sarah didn’t reply.

“I hope he’s comfortable in there. He won’t see the outside of his prison walls for at least ten to twenty years. What an idiot!” He kicked a stone across the parking lot.

Sarah placed her hand on Jesse’s shoulder. Like dropping ice into a bowl of steaming hot soup, his temperature dropped, uncoiling some of his tension. “I’m so sorry, Jess.”

Jesse looked into Sarah’s soft blue eyes. “He’s only twenty-five, Sarah. His life is ruined.”

Sarah rubbed his shoulder. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You said he called you here for me. What did you mean?”

She looked down and drew in a slow, deep breath before letting it out. “He wanted me to convince you to not help him.”

“Why doesn’t he want me to help?”

The wind blew strands of her hair like a kite, reminding Jesse of the moment right after their first and last kiss together. The storm that day had blown in the monster from Arizona, forever changing their lives. And now Robbie was walking the same path as his father. “He’s worried that you might do something drastic.”

“Drastic? What’s more drastic than getting arrested for breaking and entering?”

Sarah tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. “He’s worried that you and Aunt Sherry would sell the pet shop to bail him out.”

And there it was. The difference between the monster and Robbie. Robbie never wanted to hurt anyone. Well, anyone who didn’t deserve it. So why would he do this? Why now?

Jesse took a seat on the jailhouse steps. He picked up a pebble and rolled it around in his hand. Sarah took a seat next to him. “What am I supposed to do? He’s my brother.”

She shook her head. “I can’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.” She paused. “What have you done in the past?”

He looked up at the sky, half expecting to see storm clouds. “We’ve always bailed him out.”

“Seems to me that bailing him out hasn’t worked. Maybe Robbie knows what’s best for him. Maybe that’s what he’s asking for now.”

“And just let him rot in prison? Without a fight?” Jesse shook his head. “I can’t let that happen.”

“At some point, he has to run out of get-out-of-jail-free cards. He’s going to have to stand on his own two feet and realize that this is it,
his
life. And own what he’s made of it.”

The pebble in Jesse’s hand slipped through his fingers and onto the concrete step. “So you’re saying I should just let him go?”

“Maybe that’s what he needs.”

A lump formed in Jesse’s throat. The thought of Robbie spending ten years in prison, after all he had done for Jesse, didn’t seem fair. He’d take his place in a second if he could. “I can’t do it, Sarah. I can’t abandon my brother.”

Sarah gave him a studied look and pulled a piece of gum from her purse. “What’s going on with you two?”

“What do you mean?”

She unwrapped the gum and popped it into her mouth. “When I was talking to Robbie, he said that you feel like
you have a debt to pay
. What is he talking about?”

“Why didn’t you ask him that?”

“I did.” She crumpled the gum wrapper and tossed it into her purse. “But he said that I’d have to ask you that question.”

Jesse knew what Robbie was referring to. He always did have a big mouth. Jesse picked the pebble back up. “It’s a long story.” And a secret he’d kept buried for ten years. One he didn’t have any plans on digging up now.

Sarah placed her hand on Jesse’s leg. “Well, you’re in luck, because I have nothing but time.”

Jesse looked at Sarah’s hand on his leg and then at her smile that had the power to penetrate the darkest of moments, radiating its light like a beacon guiding a lost ship through a storm.

Sarah’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and checked the caller ID. “Sorry, I have to get this,” she said, flipping it open.

“Hello?” she answered. Jesse watched as her face turned pale. “Is he going to be okay?” A pause, and her eyes widened with fear. “I’ll be right there,” she said, closing her phone.

“What’s wrong?” Jesse asked.

The tear rolling down her cheek said it all, more than the white of her skin, more than the look on her face. “It was my dad’s doctor. I need to go to the hospital.”

Sarah

Sarah’s world had been turned upside down with a single phone call. The ride to the hospital in Jesse’s truck was as long as it was silent. Jesse was great though. While weaving in and out of traffic, despite the many honking horns and a rude finger gesture from a taxi driver who didn’t seem to appreciate his hurried driving, he managed to occasionally turn and offer his kind, crooked smile, and for a moment, Sarah felt like things would be okay.

Sarah, dear, you should come soon
. Dr. Bradtmiller’s words played over and over in her head. Did he sound upset? Distressed? No. But there was something in his voice, something she hadn’t heard since the day he told them the news about her father’s cancer.

Jesse pulled into the parking lot but it appeared to be full. Like Macy’s on Christmas Eve, every spot had been taken. “What is going on here?” Sarah asked, trying hard to keep it together. Jesse looked around and then headed toward the front. Where was he going? There was no way he’d find a spot up front.

But she was wrong. He found a spot all right—one with a sign that read: RESERVED FOR DOCTORS.

Sarah shot him a look.

Jesse shrugged his shoulders. “What? Why should doctors get all the good spaces? Besides, this is an emergency.”

As soon as the truck came to a stop, she opened the door and headed toward the entrance.

Their walk turned to a light jog as they made their way toward the entrance doors. Their hands brushed, and Sarah wrapped Jesse’s in hers automatically. He gave it a gentle squeeze and led her quickly through a hallway lined with wheelchairs and gurneys on both sides of the walls.

When they reached the sign-in counter, Sarah asked the attendant behind the front desk for her father’s room number. The attendant couldn’t have been a day younger than seventy-five. He looked at the computer in front of him as if it was a toy he couldn’t quite figure out.

After a few pecks of the keys, he asked, “Did you say Stanley Ramsey?”

“That’s right.” Her fingers tapped on the counter, as if willing the attendant to type faster.

After a few more painstakingly slow pecks, he said, “Looks like he’s in room 307.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said as he pulled Sarah’s hand toward the elevators.

“Wait!” shouted the attendant. “You have to sign in.”

As if sensing Sarah’s growing frustration, Jesse picked up the pen. “I got it.” He scribbled some names on the clipboard and grabbed Sarah’s hand again.

Jesse led Sarah to the elevators and hit the up arrow. Time nearly stood still as it often did in moments like these. Tension filled the passing of each lazy second. The act of not moving forward in a moment when all she wanted to do was get to her father weighed heavy.

The elevator dinged. They stepped inside and Jesse pressed the ‘3’ button.

When the doors opened on the third floor, a sign pointed to the right for rooms 300 to 307. The hallway had speckled green and blue carpet. The type of carpet that would make a person dizzy if she stared at it long enough—but it matched the generic light blue textured walls and wooded trim. The medicinal smell filled her nostrils the moment she entered the hallway, reminding her of the hours they had logged in hospitals while her father received his chemo treatments. It seemed they all used the same bleach and IV air fresheners.

Just before reaching room 307, Sarah noticed Dr. Bradtmiller coming out of her father’s room. “Dr. Bradtmiller!” she shouted.

The gray-haired doctor looked up from his clipboard. “Sarah, it’s good to see you,” he said, giving her a hug. “I wish it were under different circumstances.”