Past Imperfect (34 page)

Mr. Hyams hesitates for a moment before pushing his chair away from the table, stands, and helps his wife up. The rest of us follow suit. As the Hyamses reach the door, Mr. Hyams turns toward McGuire, extending his hand. “Thank you, Mr. McGuire, for everything. I’m sorry if we wasted your time.” McGuire shakes the man’s hand, but doesn’t say anything.

The couple is almost out the door when Mrs. Hyams stops and steps closer to me. Looking up with the eyes of a loving mother, she says, “I’m glad my daughter was a positive influence in your life.
You
be that for someone, so that all of this might make a little more sense.”

“Yes ma’am. I will.”

She rejoins her husband and takes his arm, before leaving the room.

“Well, McGuire, better luck next time,” my father quips, victorious sarcasm coating each word. He grabs his briefcase, throwing me a quick glance, and walks toward the door. “See you back at the office.”

McGuire heads back to the table. “Well, this day is completely fucked and it’s not even noon.”

“Where is Mabry’s office?” I ask while he gathers up his files.

“It’s the fifth door on the left, down the first hallway, but she’s not here.”

“Do you know what time she’ll be in?”

“I don’t think she’ll be coming back after the little stunt she pulled today.” My eyebrows knit together in confusion. “She was supposed to be in early this morning. We were to go over the details of a case she was taking over for me, because I was stuck in here at fucking Forgive Fest. She never showed and never called.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention as a prickling sensation covers my skin. The strange feeling that has been with me the entire morning intensifies. It’s not like Mabry to blow off a commitment, especially a work-related one.

“When was the last time you talked to her?”

“She was here yesterday. And to think, I stuck my neck out for her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I get a text from her one night, asking me if she could come over. I think, finally, I’m going to get what I’ve been wanting. All she wanted was help getting a job here.” He shakes his head, laughing humorlessly. “I talked her up, big time too.”

The idea of Mabry going to this prick for anything causes my body temperature to rise. My fingertips dig into the palms of my hand, coiling into tight fists. I can feel the spurts of air, coming from my nostrils, wash over my lips as my breathing accelerates.

Walking to the door, he mutters, “She was such a waste. I didn’t even get a blowjob out of the deal.”

I charge toward him, grabbing a handful of his shirt, causing his files to take a nosedive to the floor. Kicking behind me, the door closes as I shove him up against the wall. I get right up in his face, teeth grinding when I threaten, “If you ever refer to her as a waste again, I will fuck you up so badly, you won’t have a dick left to blow.” I leave him nodding his head in silent agreement.

I rush across the waiting room. Passing the receptionist, I shout, “Stairs?!”

She simply aims her finger in their direction. I swing the door open and fly down them, taking two at a time. I run across the lobby while texting Sylvie.

Me: Call Mabry. C if she’s ok.

My phone buzzes with her response by the time I reach my car. I shrug off my jacket, throwing it in the car as I read her text.

Sylvie: Why?

Me: DO IT NOW!

Several seconds pass before I get a response.

Sylvie: Straight 2 vmail.

Me: Meet me @ Mabry’s NOW!

Sylvie: Something wrong?

Me: I don’t know.

In one continuous movement, I jump in my car, turn on the ignition, and peel out of the parking lot. The ache in my heart spreads across my chest. My lungs feel as if they are filling with cement, making it harder and harder to breathe. I raise up a trembling hand, undoing my tie and the first two buttons of my shirt. As I weave in and out of traffic, sweat trickles down my forehead and into my eyes. I rake the sleeve of my shirt over my face and force my lungs to pump oxygen into my body. It feels like it’s taking hours to get to Mabry’s, everything is moving in slow motion.

Finally, Mabry’s place is in sight. Her car is parked in the driveway, so I know she’s at home. Sylvie isn’t here yet. Bringing my car to a screeching halt, I jump out, not bothering to turn it off. I run up the steps to the front door and start pounding. My fist makes contact with the door several times before I stop to listen for any movement. Even if she gets pissed off and yells at me, I’ll at least know she’s not hurt. Everything is quiet inside.

“Mabry!” I yell, accompanied by another round of rapid pounding. “Mabry, open the goddamn door!”

Silence.

I run down the steps and search around the outside of the place for a window to look in to. Mabry owns the downstairs condo of a converted historical home with sizable crawl space. All the windows are too high above ground for me to reach. I text Sylvie one more time, asking where the hell she is, as I head back to the front door. I pound a few more times and still I’m met with silence. I place both hands on either side of the door frame to brace myself. I step back as far as possible without removing my hands and ram my foot into the spot just under the doorknob. I’m so obsessed with getting inside I don’t hear Sylvie come up behind me.

“Brad!” she shouts, as she touches my shoulder.

I whip around to face her. The second she sees the look in my eyes panic floods over her.

“Open the door,” I choke out.

“What’s going on?”

“Open the goddamn fucking door!” I scream.

With a shaky hand she slips the key into the lock. I don’t wait for her to turn it before I burst through, Sylvie following close behind.

My eyes dart around the living room. “Mabry!” I yell.

“Brad, please tell me what’s going on?”

“Check all the rooms!” I demand.

I head straight for Mabry’s bedroom. There are clothes flung around, the comforter is crumpled into a heap on the bed, but no Mabry. I hear a soft whimper come from the direction of the bathroom. I run over, my body comes to a grinding stop in the doorway. It takes a second for my brain to register what I’m looking at. Mabry is on the floor, in front of the sink, laying curled up on her side, with only a towel wrapped around her. She’s perfectly still except for the twitching of her eyelids. Her hair falls over the side of her face and there’s a trail of blood leading from the back of her head, across the tiles, and up to the sharp corner of the countertop. I lunge toward her, dropping to my knees. I slide my hand across her cheek, brushing her hair off her face and then run them over her, looking for any other injuries.

“Mabry, wake up, baby. Please,” I shout.

I adjust my body, so that I’m sitting down, and cradle her in my arms. Grabbing a towel from the floor, I put it behind her head, trying to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. I place my shaky index finger to her neck to check for a pulse. It’s weak.

“Oh my god!” Sylvie yells. “Is she…?” Sobs take her over before she can finish the sentence.

My eyes stay completely focused on Mabry. “Call 911.”

I hear footsteps as she runs to the other room to make the call. I shift Mabry slightly. Blood covers the towel and my sleeve where her head rests.

Lowering my lips to her cheek, I place a soft kiss, and whisper against it, “Sweetness, can you hear me?” Tears pour down my face as I heave out sobs. My lips never leaving her skin. “Mabry, wake up. You promised you wouldn’t leave me.”

I hear a strangled sob from the doorway. “The ambulance is on its way,” Sylvie says gently.

I trail soft kisses along Mabry’s cheek until I reach her lips, my tears falling down her face. “I love you, Mabry,” I breathlessly whisper against her lips.

“Brad?” I feel the movement of her lips before I hear her voice. Her eyes struggle to open.

I don’t want our lips to lose contact, but her voice is extremely soft and quiet, making it hard to hear. I angle my head so that our cheeks are together, placing our lips at each other’s ears. “I’m here, Mabry.”

“He’s dead,” she breathes.

“Who, Sweetness?”

“Daddy. He killed himself, just like Momma.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just like them. I don’t have a chance,” she says, groggily. I know it’s wrong, but at this moment, as I feel her breathing slow down, I curse Mabry’s parents for doing this to her.

“I got you, Sweetness. Everything’s going to be okay.” I lift my head to look at her beautiful face. I try desperately to hold my sobs in, wanting to convince her that I’m telling the truth, but they bursts out of me uncontrollably.

“I love you, Brad.”

“I love you, Mabry.”

I place another gentle kiss on her lips and watch her eyelids close as the roar of the siren fills the air.

Everything’s frantic; my movements, my breathing, my heartbeat, and my thoughts. The only thing that’s in slow motion is getting an update on Mabry. I’m going out of my mind. It’s been a half hour since we arrived and still not one doctor has come out to give us any information. Sylvie and I followed the paramedics to the hospital in her car. I was told I couldn’t stay with Mabry because I wasn’t a family member. I started to put up a fight, but realized that wasn’t going to help Mabry. I stayed by her side, letting her know I was there and wouldn’t leave her, right up until they closed the ambulance doors.

The image of her lying on the floor bleeding is in constant rotation in my head. My shirt is soaked in her blood. One of the nurses brought me some scrubs to change in to, but I haven’t done it yet. I know it’s sick, but having this shirt on reminds me of how it felt to hold her in my arms. Today was the first time I’ve held her in two weeks. I’m not ready to let go of that sensation yet.

In the empty waiting room, I continue to pace back and forth, while Sylvie sits quietly, staring down at the clipboard covered in hospital forms that was shoved at us when we arrived. I try to convince myself that no news is good news, but I’m struggling. My mind keeps moving in that dark direction. I force myself to concentrate on the positive. We got to her in time and she’s at one of the best hospitals in the state. If I consider the alternative, it will completely destroy me. I have to keep it together for Mabry. She needs me to be strong for her. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Sylvie’s head pop up quickly. Her face is completely void of all color.

Following her gaze, I turn my head and spot the ER doctor standing in the doorway. When his words finally register I understand Sylvie’s reaction.

“Who’s here for Mabry Darnell?” he asks.

The moment I’ve been impatient for, the one that seems to have taken a lifetime to arrive, the one that will answer my question, is finally here, and I can’t move or speak. I want to freeze this moment now. I don’t want to go any further. In this moment, Mabry loves me and is alive. In this moment, I still have the feel of her body in my arms and her lips on mine.

“We both are.” I hear Sylvie’s trembling voice answer.

As the doctor approaches, I feel the air being sucked out of the room and a low hum swirl in my ears. Sylvie stands next to me, looping her arm around mine tightly to give us both support.

The doctor stops in front of us, his expression unreadable. “I’m Dr. Roberts. Are you next of kin for Miss Darnell?”

Next of kin? Why did he say next of kin?

My knees buckle and suddenly I’m suffocating, I feel myself sag into Sylvie. She clutches my arm even tighter in an attempt to keep me upright as well as herself. I don’t respond to him. I’m not sure if it’s because I can’t or I won’t, either way, I’m unable to form any words.

Sylvie does the talking. “Yes, we are.”

“And what’s your relationship to Miss Darnell?” he asks, looking between the two of us.

“I’m a close friend, but Brad is…,” she takes a slight pause. “…her husband,” she states with confidence, looking at me with raised eyebrows, indicating for me to play along. She obviously did a little creative writing when filling out the admissions forms. Sylvie knows they won’t give us information on Mabry if they know we aren’t family, even though we are all she has now.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize she was married. Mr. Darnell, your wife sustained significant trauma to the back of the head, causing an extremely severe concussion. In fact, it’s one of the worst I’ve seen. She’s lost a good bit of blood, due to the large gash on the back of her head. The blood vessels on the head are very close to the surface of the skin, so with any head laceration, there’s a lot of bleeding. We’re transfusing her now.”

“Is she going to be okay?” I finally manage to say.

“She’s in stable condition. Fortunately, the skull is intact.”

Relief takes over and my body collapses. Sylvie and the doctor catch me before I hit the floor and guide me to a chair. Sitting, I attempt to breathe normally, as I rub my hands over my face and through my hair.

“Are you okay, Sir?” the doctor asks.

Pulling my face from my hands, I answer, “I will be.” I finally feel my lungs expand as I inhale deeply a few times.