Earning Edie (Espinoza Boys #1) (27 page)

Paul nodded and mumbled a quiet affirmation he understood Deb, but he didn’t seem to have much energy.

“Hi, Paul,” I said, realizing I should have greeted him sooner. I stepped closer and patted a knee. “I’m just going to make sure the garage door will open, and then I’ll be back for you. We’ll get you guys on your way.”

Just as I reached the door, Paul’s voice called out. “Is Edie okay, do you know?”

I turned, relieved to find a parent who cared. “She’s okay. Shaken up, and worried about you, but okay.”

“Worried? She hasn’t even called—” Deb started, the sour look returning to her face, and I cut her short.

“The phone lines are down. I came here to check on you, and I promised to get some news back to her pronto, so I’d better hurry.”

Ten minutes later, I watched the Masons climb on the shuttle, packed up with a few belongings. Honestly, their house was mostly intact, outside of the entrances. But you never knew how unstable it might be. No doubt it had lost power; I could see power lines down all over the street.

I had enough notes for a story already, and I needed to get to the next parent on my list, and the one I was most worried about: Edie’s mom, Sheila Staples. Just as I’d reached the end of the block and turned right, my cell rang.

“This is Nick.”

“Nick, it’s Beth.”

“Shit.”

She sighed. “Yeah. One of the people on your list, Ray Staples? He’s been admitted. He’s apparently in stable condition, but I couldn’t learn much with HIPPA health laws about privacy.”

“I know, I know. Sheila wasn’t on the list?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, thanks a bunch.”

I shot off a text to Sean to see if he could pick me up and drop me at the hospital. After he replied he would be free in a minute, I messaged him my intersection and sat down on the curb after carefully inspecting it for broken glass or rusty nails.

Taking a deep breath, I scrolled through the contacts to Edie’s name and pressed call.

Sean pulled up a few minutes into our call, and I stood up and climbed in the car without disturbing her. We’d mostly gone over the good news that her dad and step-mom were fine.

“What about my mom?” she asked.

I glanced over to see Sean watching me with interest. “I don’t know yet.”

“Oh.”

“But Ray has been admitted to the hospital.”

Her voice broke. “Oh.”

I hurried ahead to keep her from a meltdown. “A reporter at my office confirmed he’d been admitted, and she was told he was in stable condition. Okay? But I don’t have any more details yet, so you should probably head over there. Do you have a ride?”

“Um … I…”

“I can come get you.”

Sean shook his head at me. “We have deadlines,” he muttered.

I ignored him. Edie wasn’t taking me up on the offer anyway.

“I have a ride,” she said. “Thank you so much, Nick. I know you must be crazy busy with the news coverage.”

“Ha! As if Nick writes news,” Sean said sarcastically, apparently eavesdropping. I could hardly blame him. He was a reporter; it was second nature.

“Sorry,” I said. “That was just the asshole cops reporter who ignored you the day you came to the office to yell at me.”

And also interrupted our very intimate, very hot make-out session. I decided it wasn’t the best time to bring up that memory.

I smiled, though, remembering her angry visit to the newsroom rather fondly. Sean twirled a finger by his head to let me know I was crazy. He was probably right.

“Hard to picture him standing up to cops when he couldn’t even deal with an angry high school graduate.”

I busted a gut laughing, and Sean grudgingly smiled as he flipped me the bird.

“He acknowledges your superior wit by flipping me off,” I said into the phone.

“I better go,” she said, our moment of levity over.

“Hey, be careful on the way over. The streets are weird.”

“Aye aye, Captain. Take care of yourself, too.”

“You got it.”

CHAPTER 18

EDIE

I rushed into the hospital after begging Logan to drive me from Wilde’s. I owed him even more tips. The guy was like a bookie in training; by summer’s end he’d be threatening to break my legs unless I gave him his 5Gs.

I was vaguely aware of Logan trailing me. He said something about coming in to make sure I had a ride home. I guess he had a tiny bit of chivalry in him — unless he was going to take that out of my tips, too. I wouldn’t put it past him.

I was too busy imagining a thousand horrible scenarios to care about my tips just then, or whether Logan was keeping up as I ran to the counter. Nick had told me Ray was here, but he didn’t know what happened to my mom. If she was a patient, he would know … so that was good. But if she was dead, she wouldn’t be a patient. That terrified me.

I made a beeline for the counter, and leaned around the middle-aged guy filling out some forms.

“My step-dad was brought in,” I said. “Ray Staples?”

I said his name like it was a question. But the triage nurse understood the real question.
What now?

“Let me see …” she murmured, and tapped a few keys.

“Edie.”

Nick!

I whirled so fast, I made myself dizzy. Surprise and relief crashed over me. Here was someone who could tell me what to do.

I stumbled a step, and went with it, falling into his chest and hugging him tightly. I knew, at some level, we weren’t supposed to do this, that our friendship was awkward and distant. But I was too emotional to care about those barriers.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I said thickly into his neck.

Nick wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. He smoothed a hand over my hair. “I had to come.”

A whimper of sound escaped me as I tried to restrain the emotions crashing through me.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said. “Hey, you’re shaking. You need to calm down.”

Over my shoulder the triage nurse spoke. “Do you still need the info on Ray Staples?”

“Is he still in surgery?” Nick asked.

I heard the nurse give the affirmative. I pulled back to get a better look at Nick. He looked worried.

“My mom … is she—”

My eyes filled with tears, and I swallowed hard against the urge to sob. Nick pulled me close for another hug, rubbing my back.

“Your mom is okay. She’s here. Right across the room watching us, actually.”

“What!” I exclaimed, ripping out of his arms and turning to scan the room.

The waiting room was more crowded than usual (I hoped), because all the chairs were filled and some kids were playing in a corner of the room. There was a snack area nearby, and it looked like some family members had spilled over to the vending area.

I spotted her against the far wall of the waiting room, a book clutched in her hand. She held it open, saving her place, but she wasn’t reading. She was staring at me. And she looked anything but happy. Of course, her husband was in surgery for God knew what.

“Is Ray going to be okay?” I asked Nick.

For some reason, I’d turned him into the all-knowing man during this mess. He seemed to have ways of getting information I didn’t understand.

“Well, there are no guarantees. But it sounded like it.”

“What is the surgery for?”

“Don’t you want to go talk to your Mom?” he prodded.

I glanced over. “Does she forgive me?”

He answered me with his own question. “Do you forgive her?”

I gave a sharp nod, emotion rising in me once more. I should never have let the distance grow so far between us. If she had been hurt, or died, I would have regretted that forever.

“Then go,” he said, and gave me a little push.

I went.

It was only as I got closer I realized my mother was trembling, and her eyes were glassy. She put down the book on a little end table covered in parenting and health magazines and stood up. Without a word, she hugged me. And while we clutched each other, she whispered into my hair: “I missed you. Thank God, you’re okay.”

I stepped back and swiped at the tears in free fall down my face. Mom was used to me being emotional.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

A doctor came in, and the group to my Mom’s left got up to go talk to him. Mom patted the seat next to her. “Sit down.”

“I don’t want to steal someone’s seat,” I said uneasily.

“You don’t have to stay. I just … wanted to say a few things to you before you go.”

“Mom, Ray is in surgery. I’m not going anywhere.”

She gripped my hand tightly, and nodded. Her lips pressed into a thin line. It made her look angry, but I sensed she was just fighting her emotions.

“Thank you,” she said. “Is your dad okay?”

“He and Deb are fine, I guess. I haven’t talked with them yet. Nick found out for me.”

“He’s helping you a lot tonight.”

I shot her a look, but she was studying her hands, which were twisting in her lap.

“I’m sorry, Edie, for how this has all worked out this summer.” She glanced up at me. “I know I haven’t been the best mother. I knew that before Nick ever printed that column.”

She paused and nibbled on her lip, uncharacteristically nervous. “If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been angry for a long time.”

“Because I moved in with Dad.”

She looked surprised.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I guess I should have known you’d realize it. You’ve always been very perceptive.”

I didn’t think it required me to be perceptive to notice my mom’s once warm attitude toward me was ice cold. Especially not after she yelled at me for going, and told me that I would regret it. My mom was nothing if not blunt when she was angry.

I didn’t say any of this. I just let Mom talk. And she did.

“I kept telling myself I needed to be more mature about the whole thing. But my husband left me for another woman, and then you left me for my husband. I was hurt. And I was afraid you’d be closer to him, that you’d love him more. That I’d lose the last piece of the family I once had.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I protested, when she finally looked to me for a response. “I was just tired of worrying about whether the electricity bill would be paid. Or whether there would be food in the fridge. You were working so much at the time I barely saw you. I thought it would be easier for everyone—”

“I was working so much for your benefit!” Mom said hotly.

I laid a hand on her arm.

“I know,” I said softly. “I felt guilty about that, too. I thought if I moved in with Dad, you wouldn’t have to work so hard. Maybe my thinking was flawed, but I was 14 at the time.”

She picked up her book and fiddled with the pages.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your graduation. Or do a better job celebrating your birthdays or other special occasions.” She glanced at me. “It sounds like an excuse, but I really did think your father was celebrating with you. That anything I did would be an afterthought, and not nearly as good as anything he could give you.”

“Mom!” I protested yet again. “I just wanted to know you cared—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “I’ve come to realize that now.”

Silence fell between us. A lot of thoughts were careening through my mind — from questions about what happened to Ray to thinking about how we could move forward from here.

“I would have let you stay with me if you really needed to, you know,” she said. “I knew you’d be okay on your own.”

“How could you know that?”

“Because you’re Edie Mason,” she said with a touch of pride. “You’ve always been a strong, independent girl. You’ve been responsible and worked hard. Besides, I knew you didn’t really want my life, and if you moved back in with me, you might start to feel too comfortable there or convince yourself you couldn’t do better. And you can.”

I gave her a skeptical look, and she smiled teasingly. “Don’t you remember what you used to tell me when you were a little girl?”

“No?”

“I’d try to teach you to cook, and you’d have no interest. I’d say, ‘Edie, one day your husband is going to want you to cook him dinner.’ And you’d tell me, ‘I’m never getting married. I’m going to get a job and take care of myself.’”

I smiled. “I do remember. Good thing, too. The odds of getting a boy to love me are pretty slim.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, and shifted her gaze across the room. I looked up and locked eyes with Nick.

NICK

Edie was deep in conversation with her mother. I could tell it was one of those heart-to-heart talks that aren’t easy but ultimately heal you. I saw Edie wipe at tears more than once, and had to resist the urge to go over and make sure her mother wasn’t hurting her more.

Then her gaze lifted, and our eyes met. My breath caught in my throat.

I loved her so much.

Would I ever get past her barriers? Though we’d fought a lot — and I’d made some majorly dumbass moves, Edie was a forgiving person. I was watching that forgiveness play out with her mother.

No, the real reason she pushed me away was fear. And wasn’t that the reason I’d brought up that credit card she and Lil had activated in my name and used? I was hurt by it, I was angry about it, but mostly I used it as a weapon against more rejection.

Edie got up and approached me. “Hey.”

“Hey. Everything okay with Ray?”

She exhaled a shaky laugh. “I haven’t gotten a chance to ask, if you can believe that. We’ve been talking about everything that happened this summer, and before. I just wanted to come say thank you, for calling around and helping me track everyone down.”

“Happy to help.”

“Oh, shoot!”

“What?”

Edie glanced around, then shrugged. “Logan dropped me off. I kind of remember him coming inside, and then I didn’t spare him another thought.”

I frowned. She was too chummy with that busboy. I’d seen him come in, too, and I’d given him a look over Edie’s shoulder as she trembled in my arms. He’d taken the hint and scrammed.

“He left right after I found you at the counter,” I said. Then because I couldn’t help myself, I added: “If you miss him so much, you can call him back to take my place.”

“What? No, I just ... why would you say something like that?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, and shoved my fingers through my hair in frustration.

I’d tried not to let the jealousy get to me until I’d won her forgiveness, but my emotions weren’t cooperating. The hurt look on her face made me want to kick my own ass.

“I should go. You don’t need this right now.”

She grabbed my arm as I turned. “Wait. Yes, I do.”

I turned back, surprised. “You need me acting like an ass?”

She huffed a small laugh. “Well, no. But I need you.”

My heart pounded double-time at her words, then sank like a stone as I watched the doubt cloud her eyes. This roller coaster of emotions was hell on my nervous system.

“I mean, if you don’t have somewhere more important you need to be. And ... I’ll understand if you don’t want to stay. You probably need to work.”

I gestured to the laptop bag over my shoulder, and held up the reporter’s notebook in my left hand. “I can work the story from here. I can set up my computer by the vending machines and write up something before deadline.”

“You don’t have to stay—”

I pulled her into my arms for the third time that night. I felt like a lucky bastard, getting an excuse to hold her close so many times in one night. Her crisis was my salvation, and I was a jerk for enjoying it. Another example of my selfishness at work. But I hoped it was comforting her, too.

“I want to stay,” I murmured into her hair. “I’ll go set up. Talk to your mom. Find out about Ray. I’ll give you a ride home when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for being here, and thank you for that scholarship. I mean it.”

I pulled back and smiled down at her. “I know. You always mean it.”

I touched her face gently, then turned and made my way toward the vending area to write up my story.

EDIE

I spent the next few hours with my mom.

She tried to send me home more than once, and I almost went, because I knew Nick was waiting for me and was probably exhausted. I’d checked on him earlier, and he’d sent off not one but three stories to his editors. How he did all that and tracked down my whole family was a mystery to me, but I was impressed.

Mom and I reminisced about my early childhood, made promises to communicate better and be honest with each other in the future, and worried about Ray.

He’d had his leg crushed when a car flew through the trailer and landed on him. He’d pushed Mom out of the way just in time, so he was quite the hero. I thought the better part of valor would have been to take my mother to a storm shelter when the tornado sirens went off, but at least he’d done his best to protect her when push came to shove (literally).