Wild Abandon (30 page)

Tonight is our first date.

Wearing a pair of jeans and a silk top, a camisole, and knee-high boots, I am waiting for Simon to pick me up. Yes, I am letting him pick me up like a normal date. And I am letting him pick the place.

We head south. I’m surprised we’re not going somewhere in St. Helena, as we’re both from here.

“You like music?” he asks. “I know a place that has a great band.”

And can you imagine my surprise when said place with a great band is the one place I have been avoiding for weeks?

“You like The Barge Poppers?” I ask when we pull up to Henley’s Bar.

“You know them? My cousin, Justin, is the in the band,” Simon answers with a huge smile, proud he chose right for our date tonight.

If this were any other circumstance, I’d be excited that we had a common interest. No, I am excited that we both like The Barge Poppers. I’m just not excited that I have to walk inside. It’s Wednesday night. Nate works on Wednesday nights.

“I love them,” I say before realizing I shouldn’t have said that. Now, there’s no turning back.

“I knew I liked you, Crystal Reid.” He gets out and then swings around to my side of the car to open my door.

Together, we walk through the door of Henley’s.

The place is packed. Simon sees his cousin and gets waved over. Justin saved a table for us by the front. He recognizes me and asks if I’ll play. Of course I’ll play. I love this band. I can’t help but look around the room. I don’t see Nate anywhere. That doesn’t mean he’s not here though.

Laurie approaches the table. “Hey you! And you! Fancy seeing you two together.”

Simon looks at me with a grin. This couldn’t be more right, yet it feels so weird. Laurie hands us menus. Actual menus. Apparently, Simon likes to eat here. I order a burger and fries. He gets a steak sandwich. I order a vodka tonic. He gets a Captain and Coke. He looks at the band as they begin to play. I look at the bar.

“What are you going to play tonight?” Simon asks.

“Huh? Oh, I don’t know. Any requests?”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing. Justin is the music guy in the family.”

Nate appears by the bar with his back to me.

I try to keep my attention on Simon. “What is it that you do?” I ask.

“I have a distribution route. Some wineries don’t grow their own grapes. I transport them up and down the state.”

Our drinks are served. Mine is exactly as I ordered it.

I look up, and see Nate. Maybe he doesn’t know I’m here. Maybe he does. Doesn’t matter.

“What do you do?” Simon asks.

“I work at Russet Ranch, off Eldorado?” It’s the first time I haven’t told someone I am a cellist.

Simon shakes his head, not familiar with the vineyard.

He talks about the wineries he works with, and I can’t help but look over at Nate. He is pouring wine, serving beer, mixing cocktails. His sole focus is on his job, so much so that it’s like he doesn’t want to look up.

Nate stops what he’s doing when he reaches in his pocket and takes out his phone. His forehead wrinkles at the sight of the caller ID. With the phone to his ear, he holds the other hand up to his free ear and leans down, trying to hear the call. His eyes darting back and forth, his face is pinched in frustration. He can’t hear the caller on the other end. He steps back from the bar and swings around, getting away from the noise. Walking through the crowd, his hands still up to his ears, he charges out of the room and out the side door.

It isn’t my place to care what is happening. We had a moment, and now, it’s over. Yet…

Goddamn it, I know that look. I’ve seen the confusion and panic on his face before. Something must have happened to his wife, and if he’s walking away from the bar, it must be bad.

“I’ll be back,” I tell Simon. I am instantly on my feet.

Following Nate out the side door, I see him standing by the river’s edge.

“Say that again. What happened?” His back muscles are taut and tense, visible from the thin long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing. “Oh my God. I—okay, I’m at work, but I’ll be right there. I’m on my way.” He hangs up the phone and then shouts to himself, “Fuck!”

My heart sinks in my chest at the flushed look on his face. He looks like he’s going to be sick, and I want nothing more than to run to him and tell him it’s going to be okay. But I can’t. I keep my feet as grounded as possible, willing them to stay that way.

Laurie comes out. She must have also sensed that something was wrong.

Nate turns around and sees me and Laurie looking at him with concern.

“My wife…she…I gotta go.”

“You’re married?” Laurie is dumfounded. “Never mind. Yeah, go. We’ve got you covered.” She looks at me for an explanation, but I have nothing to say.

Nate is leaving.

He’s going to drive all the way to San Francisco alone in his condition. He’s too worried and scared. He’s liable to crash on the way just from trying to get there in a hurry.

He might belong to someone else, but before our night together, we were friends. I can’t let my friend be alone right now.

When he reaches his truck, I’m at the passenger side, sliding in.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going with you.” I buckle up. I’d offer to drive, but I know better. What Nate needs right now is a source of calm.

“Crystal, I can’t expect you to—”

“I’m your friend, Nate. Let me be here for you.”

He doesn’t have time to argue. He drives as fast as he can without being dangerous. I text Justin that I had to leave due to a family emergency. The ride is quiet. Nate is in a traumatic daydream. He isn’t even blinking. His thoughts are solely on one thing.

“She had seizures after the stroke. They said it was common,” he talks into the open.

“I’m sure the doctors are doing everything they can for her,” I offer in assurance.

“She already has so little.” He’s frightened.

Placing my hand on top of his, I give what little comfort I have to give. He lets out a relieved breath, and he rolls his palm over and takes my hand. We drive the rest of the way in silence.

chapter TWENTY-ONE

Instead of going to the Golden Gate Rehab, we go the Hospital.

Nate walks to the doors of the emergency room and mouths the words,
Thank you
, to me before the doors close behind him.

I take a seat in the waiting room and wait. I watch CNN enough times that the news starts to repeat. I take out my phone and play a game. When my phone dies, I stare at the mauve linoleum floor and count the squares from one side of the room to the other. When exhaustion finally sets in, I lean back and allow my eyes to close.

When my eyes open, it takes me a moment to realize where I am. The clock on the wall says it’s two in the morning. I think I slept a total of thirty minutes.

Rubbing my eyes, I rise from the chair and walk to the nurse by the check-in desk. The woman behind the computer looks up at me.

“I’m checking in on my friend. Last name Teller. She had a seizure. Brought in from Golden Gate Rehabilitation,” I offer as much information as I can.

“Elizabeth Teller?” she asks.

I nod.
Elizabeth
. What a beautiful name.

“She was just transferred to the third floor.”

“She’s okay!” Relief swims through my veins. “Thank you.”

I turn around and look at the uncomfortable plastic seat and the television news ticker replaying again. I know I should stay here, so Nate can find me when it’s time to leave, but I can’t fathom sitting back down. My adrenaline is at an all-time high. My brain is berating myself for being here, and my heart is wondering where Nate is and if he’s okay.

Needing to stretch my legs, I take a walk. Through a side door, I see the restrooms and another door. I swing that one open and take the long hallway away from the emergency room. I eventually land in the lobby of the main hospital.

I take the elevator to the third floor. Perhaps the waiting room up there has a couch. I can wait for Nate there.

When I exit onto the floor, it’s dark and quiet. A waiting area is just beyond the elevator bank. I take a seat and start reading
Consumer Reports
. Because that’s what people who are visiting their sick loved ones want to read about—oven ranges with built-in warming drawers and high-tech thermometers.

A nurse walks through the doors, her white sneakers squeaking. She passes through another set of doors. It’s quiet again.

The elevator chimes. A doctor exits. He walks through double doors. Again, silence.

I shuffle through
AARP The Magazine
. The double doors open again, but this time, Nate walks through. I stand when he approaches. He sees the concern in my eyes.

“She’s okay. She’s sleeping.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Was there any damage?”

“They ran some tests. Scans look the same.” He’s melancholy. Nate points his thumb toward the elevator. “I have to go back downstairs to the emergency room and fill out a form.”

As much as I want to be here for him, I can’t help but feel out of place. I invited myself, like an overbearing mother. If it weren’t two thirty in the morning, I’d leave.

“I’ll wait here,” I offer.

Nate bobs his head. A look in his eyes makes it seem like he wants to say so much, yet his mouth can give so little. Instead, he turns around and hits the down button for the elevator.

When the elevator closes behind him, stare back at myself through the steel doors. Long auburn hair, pink skin, and bright eyes.

I can’t help but wonder about the woman he’s giving his world for.

I walk through the doors I saw Nate coming through. At the nurses’ station is a whiteboard with patients’ names on it.

E. Teller is in room A302.

“Miss, you can’t be here.” A nurse approaches, scowling.

I stammer back and point down the hall toward where her room is. “I’m here to see my sister.” I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t really want to see her. I think I just wanted to glance at her one more time. I can’t explain to this nurse that I’m in love with the woman’s husband and want to see her face one more time for…closure?

“This is hardly visiting hours. How did you get up here?”

“Through the emergency room. The doctor told me to come up.” It’s amazing how quick on your feet you can be when you’re caught in a lie.

“Who did you say your sister was?” She suspiciously eyes me.

“Elizabeth Teller,” I give the name with confidence.

The nurse’s face falls. She must be well versed in this patient’s chart. “Come this way.”

The nurse escorts me down the hall, and when we approach room A302, she opens the door and stands by Elizabeth’s bed, checking the fluid in the IV.

Standing by the doorway, I hesitate with entering. This feels like an invasion of privacy. But the nurse is looking at me, probably wondering why I’m not rushing to my sister’s bedside.

I take a few hesitant steps forward and sit at the bedside chair. Elizabeth is in the bed. She’s so small, her body crumpled in. She’s probably in her thirties, yet up close, she looks fifty, aged by the physical disabilities. Her wrists are thin and curved in. The infinity symbol that’s identical to Nate’s is wrinkled from the folded skin. She is breathing peacefully. Her eyes are deep in slumber.

The nurse reaches down on the bed and lifts the television remote. “Click the red button if you need anything.”

I nod in thanks as she exits, and I face Elizabeth. She sounded like a spitfire. I wonder what she was doing the day her life altered.

Did she wake up to a naked Nate, rumpled in the sheets and kissing her neck? Did he rub her back and tell her he loved her?

Maybe she went for brunch with girlfriends and gossiped about their men. She had waffles. And a Bloody Mary. After brunch, she headed to the dance studio where the little girls in their tutus adored her. Nate came by to pick her up from work with Willie Mays on his leash. Together, they walked, hand in hand, stopping at a little market where he picked up fresh ingredients for the dinner he had planned. At home, she took a long bath while he made her favorite dish. They drank whiskey on the rocks and made love by the fire. When she went to sleep, she woke up a different woman.

We’re always told we should live like it’s the last day. Do today what you can’t do tomorrow. But we don’t. We all have reminders in our lives. My friend Emma lost brother who was only twenty-one. Naomi lost a forty-year-old aunt to cancer. We hear these stories. We hug our families. We make bucket lists. We vow to live life to the fullest. And we do. For a moment. And then life gets in the way.

Maybe if we stopped trying to live the perfect life, finding the end, we’d be able to enjoy the moments more.

I don’t know Elizabeth, but I know this. She lived. She loved.

She might not have done all the things she’d planned, but she took chances.

On a dare, she took a chance on a beautiful man.

“We’re similar, you and me,” I say out loud, unaware if she can hear me or not. “I took a chance on love once, too. It wasn’t as successful, but it was fun. I guess it’s the creative types in us. We dare to take a risk.

“I stopped taking risks in love though. You found your soul mate. I’m still looking for mine. You are so loved, Elizabeth. You might not know it, but I hope you do. You are loved by a man who has been dedicating his life to make sure you are cared for, comfortable, and that you are forever the pillar of his existence. If I can gain an ounce of that love from someone, I will consider myself the luckiest girl in the world.”

I wipe a falling tear from my face. And then I use the back of my hand to get the rest.

I lean forward and rest my elbows on the bed. “I heard you are a phenomenal dancer. Do you miss performing? I don’t. I never cared for the crowds. It made it seem impersonal. I enjoy the intimate moments. The times I play my songs for small groups. Like at the vineyard.”

I bite my nail and look up at her, unmoving, but from the slight rise and fall of her chest, I can see she’s still asleep.

“Elizabeth, if you were to wake up tomorrow, would you change your path? Is there something you’ve always wanted to try but never did? I picked up from my life and left it behind. I told myself it was to find love, but what I really think I was looking for was me. I lost myself somewhere. Taking a job that wasn’t fulfilling. Living in a city that wasn’t for me. Dressing like someone I wasn’t. I found my soul in Napa. Ed said I brought his home back to him. But what he really did was bring my soul back to me.