The After House (14 page)

Remy thought she saw a white hand reaching for her, and then she didn’t see anything at all.

he’s coming round.” Remy heard a relieved voice as if from a tunnel. She was flat on her back on a stretcher, a kaleidoscope of lights flashing around her. The tinny echo of a police radio squawked in the background. Remy attempted to sit up but was pushed back by a strong hand. She raised a shaky hand to her head and touched a bulky bandage.

“How many fingers do you see?”

“Fingers?” She squinted.

“Jeez. Get her to the hospital already,” an impatient voice said. “I’ll call her folks.”

Remy recognized Hugh’s voice. “No!” she shouted. “Are you a paramedic too?” she asked in a reedy voice. Was that weak thing her? She cleared her throat.

Hugh took her hand within his warm grasp. “No, they called me because I’m notified of any accidents in the area. You don’t want your parents to come?”

“Absolutely not. Wait,” she said in a panic as she felt herself lifted. “Where are we going?”

“Hospital,” the paramedic offered. “You’ve got quite the bump there.”

“I’m fine. I want to go home. Is my car OK?”

“Well, as long as you have collision, your car is OK.”

“Crap.” Remy sighed, easing back down, her lips rimmed with white. She felt the stretcher being lifted, and her stomach heaved.

“Do you need a bag?” the paramedic asked professionally.

Remy moaned in response, her stomach dancing around her throat. She was handed a paper bag not unlike what she saw on an airplane.

“You’ll feel better in the morning,” Hugh said as he hopped into the ambulance.

“You coming, Mayor?”

“Yes,” he replied. The doors slammed shut. Remy closed her eyes, fighting the nausea that threatened as the vehicle took off. She was mortified. Her skin must have gone white, because she felt a familiar hand stroke her sweaty forehead. Swallowing thickly, she peered under her lashes, watching Hugh look at her. His concerned gray eyes comforted her. She felt her fingers being squeezed reassuringly.

“You’re going to be fine,” he whispered.

“Oh, what the hell,” Remy thought. If he doesn’t mind my tumbleweed hair this afternoon, what’s a black eye or two between friends?”

It was a minor bruise, but they insisted on keeping her for observation. She wouldn’t let Hugh call her family, didn’t want their sleep interrupted. He offered to pick her up in the morning to drive her home.

Remy must have dozed, because when she opened her eyes, the room swam into focus. She lifted her head, groaning with the heaviness of it. Her face hurt. The skin around her eye sockets was tender. “I must look like a raccoon,” Remy thought. Weak light filtered in through the venetian blinds, and the world looked back at her in shades of violet.

A soft snore startled her, and she peered through the gloom and was able to make out the hunched-over figure of a man seated just beyond the nylon curtain. Reaching up, she struggled with the fabric. She winced when the rings holding it squealed loudly. She heard a muffled snort, and a large hand appeared to help her pull back the material. A bleary-eyed Hugh smiled back at her.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“You were a little out of it last night.”

“What?” she demanded.

Hugh shrugged sheepishly. “You were crying. Sue me. I can’t deal with a weeping female.”

“Was it bad?”

“Worse than when the Mets lost the series.” He dragged his chair closer to the bed. “How do you feel today?”

Remy touched her head, which was bandaged thickly. “Hurts a bit, but I’ll live.”

Hugh brightened. “Well, that’s a relief.”

“Does it look bad?” she asked. “I must look like a mess.”

Ever resourceful, Hugh pulled sunglasses from his jacket pocket.

“Do you ever do anything wrong?” Remy asked sourly as she took the glasses and tried them on.

“Nope,” he said honestly.

“I’m so sorry. You didn’t have to stay,” Remy said miserably.

“Why? You asked, and—”

“I asked?” Remy’s voice rose.

“More like demanded.”

A nurse briskly entered the room, snapping open the blinds, turning jaundiced eyes on Hugh. “You were supposed to leave hours ago, Your Honor.”

“I had a meeting about the upcoming lane change,” Hugh lied.

“Yeah, sure,” the nurse said with raised eyebrows. She looked at her wristwatch. “When, at four in the morning?”

“I was early.” He gave her a wide smile that stopped all female breathing in the room. “No wonder you got yourself elected,” Remy thought.

Hugh stood and stretched his arms wide. “When is she being released?”

“As soon as the doctor signs. Should be in another hour or so.”

Remy held the green hospital gown away from her chest with a thumb and forefinger. Hugh shook his head. “They changed you, I waited outside. Get dressed. I’ll take you for breakfast.”

He walked out, leaving Remy’s folded clothes at the foot of the bed. “Call me if you’re dizzy,” he said as he left the room.

The ward was just waking up. The nurse stayed to take out Remy’s IV. She answered Remy’s questions about the
hospital. It was a small facility, with a few hundred beds. Mayor Matthews had been good to them. There was talk about closing it down, but he got that squashed right after he was elected. He knew every member of the staff personally just from the holiday fete earlier this year. They raised close to sixty thousand dollars, enough to put in a more modern waiting room, one with a separate play area for children. It was clear that Hugh was loved in the small town.

When Remy came out, Hugh took a small plastic bag from her, and they left, walking side by side to his truck. He asked if she wanted to pick up something to eat or sit in the diner. They chose to eat at her place, so he stopped at a deli and picked up ham and eggs on rolls. With a strange feeling of domesticity, they sat at her kitchen table in the early-morning light.

“What time does Olivia get home?” he asked as he started wrapping up the wax paper from the sandwiches. “Do you have time to lie down? I’ll wait for her.”

Remy looked at him, her insides melting just a bit. He was so kind. “You barely know me. She doesn’t get home until tomorrow anyway.”

Hugh blushed. “I can’t explain it. I mean, I only went to your studio because your mom was so insistent. It feels like I’ve known you forever.”

Remy nodded in agreement. It did. They seemed to fit together as if they belonged together. “Once you know,” Remy thought dreamily.

Up in the rafters, Marum sighed. Sten looked at her, rolling his eyes. “You’re not supposed to be engaged with their feelings.”

Marum floated in ecstasy, her hands clasped, her face alight with pleasure. “It’s so romantic. Do you think Remy and Huge are aware that they’re kindred spirits?”

Sten stood and brushed off his immaculate iridescent pants, his words designed to bring Marum crashing down to reality.

“Nobody ever knows. I mean, they suspect. They use the term ‘soul mates’ to death. What do they really know, a feeling of familiarity? They grasp at anything to find that connect, the recognition that brings happiness, then spend the rest of their lives trying to change the other person. Why can’t they ever be happy?”

“Were you always so cynical?”

“I’m not a cynic, Marum. I state the obvious.”

Marum approached Sten. “You don’t think the human heart can recognize its other half ?”

“Sure, the astute souls do recognize a kindred, but they won’t realize fully until they complete their journey here.”

“It’s all so stupid,” Marum said. “Why can’t everything be revealed? The tests, the punishments? It seems cruel.”

Sten gave her a warning glance. “What’s the point of life then, Marum? We chose our course, then come here to live it with the souls we want to share it with.”

“So explain Scott, the creep.”

“Stop being judgmental. It’s not our job. He is a mere player in the grand scheme. You know that, Marum. We are just here—”

“Yes?” Marum’s blue eyes narrowed.

“Consider yourself a traffic cop.”

“A traffic cop? Really, Sten. That sounds so pedestrian.”

“Marum, they elected you because of your insights. You’re here to give a nudge in the right direction. Provide opportunities, insights. You can’t make them do what they choose not to. I don’t care how many signals you throw in their path, or the many whispers in their dreams, some of them don’t listen.”

“Because they don’t have confidence!” Marum answered hotly.

“You’re walking a fine line, sentinel,” Sten said sternly. “Confidence is learned. Love is earned. Page nine, paragraph thirty-four. It’s in the book. Remy Galway has to make mistakes. They all do. Some change from them, others fail.”

Marum sighed loudly again, her face dimming.

“Marum,” Stern warned. “Sometimes they are just out of sync. They can’t all get what they want. Then nobody would come back.”

“What about what they
need
?”

“That sounds suspiciously like a whine, Marum.” He pointed a finger at her. “You know the job. Not everybody gets to win.”

“Speaking of out of sync, look who’s here.” Marum gestured to Eli, who was walking around the kitchen table observing the two. “Should we pull him out?”

Sten shook his head. “Not yet. Eli needs them just as much as they need Eli.”

“He’s not their soul mate.”

“No, but you know lost souls are always searching.”

“They didn’t cover this at sessions,” Marum said impatiently. “I still don’t understand. If he’s out of sync, two kindreds aren’t going to help him.”

“Maybe you’re reading the situation wrong, Marum. Maybe the dynamics are vital to the three of them. Is Eli here to bring Hugh and Remy together, or are Hugh and Remy here to help the captain get home? It’s the old chicken and egg thing.”

“Oh, so we’re back to chickens again.” Marum smiled, her humor restored. “You’re being rather cryptic,” Marum said into the empty space. Sten had vanished.