Earning Edie (Espinoza Boys #1) (26 page)

He nodded. “Yup, your boy left this on the table before he went. He asked me to take special care of it for you, and to not give it to you until the end of the night. He didn’t want to distract you while you were working.”

“Well then he shouldn’t have shown up at all,” I muttered.

I’d been distracted all night.

“Wow. That’s nice.”

I winced. Logan laughed and squeezed my shoulder.

“Just teasing. But seriously, none of my business and all, but that guy is head over heels for you. So what gives?”

Yeah, what did give? There was no way a guy like Nick could really be crazy about a girl like me.

Memories of playing videogames and joking around surfaced in my mind. We’d become friends, spending almost every evening together while I’d stayed at his apartment. He’d kissed me, several times. And yet, it was so hard to believe he’d thought of me as anything other than a convenient way to distract his family from the truth about his affair with Elana.

A small voice of reason whispered over the self-doubts.
Telling his family the truth was anything but convenient, but he did it.

“Edie?” Logan prompted.

I shrugged. I was at a loss, but I knew I’d have to talk to Nick and really listen to what he had to say. He deserved that much.

Turning my attention back to the check, I asked, “Did he tell you how he came to have this? Or how the heck I won a scholarship I didn’t even know existed?”

Logan held up something else. “He left this on the table too, and said he’d really like you to call him to talk about it.”

It was a photocopy of a news article. I could see the headline, “Local businesses step up for local students” and the familiar photo of Nick that ran with all his columns.

Grabbing the photocopy, I skimmed it enough to get the gist of the story. A dozen local businesses had teamed up to create a scholarship for one local student each year, and for their inaugural year, they’d decided to award it to the “lonely graduate” featured in one of Nick’s earlier columns.

Me
. They’d decided to give the scholarship to me.

That was a fortunate coincidence. Or was it? Had Nick merely written this column, or had he
suggested
I would make a good recipient? I wasn’t sure it mattered. I needed the help, and now I had it. Nick’s role – whether as a reporter, or something more – had helped me. That godawful column that threw my life into chaos had
helped
me.

“Call the poor guy,” Logan said, before grabbing up his tub of dishes and continuing to clean up.

As he turned his back, it fully sank in.

I could go to college. This check would more than cover my expenses. If I was frugal, I could even stretch some of it to help with the following year, once I combined it with my summer’s earnings.

A smile spread across my face as weeks of worry dropped away.

No more working until I dropped. No more taking every possible shift and letting down Tequila. This check was more than the means to go to school.

It was
freedom.

I tucked the check and photocopy into a pocket of my apron and picked up the nearly forgotten rag.

That’s when the first tornado siren began to blare.

NICK

I waited all evening for her to call.

I checked my phone three times before 10 p.m. Each time there were no  missed calls or texts — and how could there be, with me sitting on top of my phone?

My gut tightened with disappointment. I tried to reason it out.
Maybe
she was closing tonight.
Maybe
she thought it was too late to call. And
maybe
that ridiculous guy she’d sent over after they’d smiled and laughed and had more physical contact than I liked hadn’t even given her the check.

Asshole.

I rolled my eyes at myself. Jealousy over the blond guy who looked like he’d be more at home on a beach than in a restaurant in the Midwest (and looked a little too much like Jaime) was pointless if Edie never talked to me again. I had to get her to forgive me first. Then I could eradicate the competition.

This scholarship announcement had me on edge. Edie might accept it and be thankful, or she might think I was trying to buy her affection. I wasn’t counting any chickens before they hatched.

My cellphone rang, and my heart nearly shot out of my chest. Then turned to lead when I looked at the caller ID: It was The Sentinel, not Edie. She hadn’t called.

I answered reluctantly. The Sentinel only called when they had questions about my column or there was breaking news and no one to cover it. My next column wasn’t written yet, so I knew what was coming.

“Nick’s busy, but state your business at the beep.”

“Ha, funny,” Jorge, our night news editor, replied dryly. “Get your ass to the office, pronto.”

“What’s up?”

“Are you kidding?” he sounded incredulous. “Have you not seen the tornado warnings on TV? There’s a huge storm headed right this way. I’m trying to rally as many troops as I can to ride it out here, so we’re not spread out all over town and trapped who knows where once the storm passes. It’s going to be a long night.”

Now that I thought about it, I had dimly registered the whine of a siren in the distance. Id been too distracted to think about what it meant.

Lost in my misery of waiting for Edie’s call, I’d done my best to lose myself in playing games on my phone to pass the time. I hadn’t had the television on in hours.

“Shit. Is it safe to drive there now?”

“Yeah, should be. Forecasts are saying it’s still a ways out. But we need to be prepared.”

I felt a familiar tingle of anticipation. I might not be a news junky like some of our staffers, but this kind of news coverage motivated even us slackers. I felt the call of journalism as I hadn’t in a long time.

“I’ll be there in 5.”

Hell, it wasn’t as if I had other plans. Edie hadn’t called, probably wasn’t going to call. And if she did, I’d have my cellphone handy. But that did give me pause. Did she know about the storm? Was she safe?

Yanking on my shoes with one hand, I called Edie’s cell with the other. It rang again and again until it clicked to voicemail. I hung up and called again as I grabbed my keys and headed for the door.

Still no answer.

I tried one more time on the way to The Sentinel, feeling uneasy while repeatedly telling myself she wasn’t answering because she was working. And I should be happy about that. It explained why she’d never called me after I left the restaurant.

But I didn’t like not knowing for certain she was safe.

Finally, resignedly, I sent a text message asking her to call and let me know she was safe as I pulled into The Sentinel parking lot, and hustled inside. I couldn’t help feeling I should do something more to reach her, but Edie had been screening my calls for weeks. If she didn’t want to talk to me, she wouldn’t.

I’d have to trust she was smart enough to keep herself safe.

CHAPTER 17

NICK

The tornado hit sooner than expected, and I’d barely arrived at the news office before we were hustled downstairs. There, I paced restlessly, glaring at the useless phone in my hand. Between the storm and the basement, there was no reception and no way for me to reach out to Edie or anyone else.

We kept tabs on the tornado with a weather radio, so I knew my family would be fine. On the east edge of town, they were out of the tornado’s path. But Edie could have been at work — right on the border of where the tornado bulldozed through brick and mortar— or she could have been driving somewhere in between. I didn’t even know where she was staying these days. If she was going to Lil’s, she should be fine.

By the time they let us out of the basement, I was driving myself crazy with “what if” scenarios. When I got upstairs, my cell signal miraculously returned. I called her cell and held my breath that she had reception and hadn’t been caught in the storm.

Please go through. Please pick up.

“Hello?”

Edie’s voice was a little too high, a little too shaky. Still, my pulse settled a bit once I heard her voice.

“Edie, thank God! Are you okay?”

“Nick?” she said hesitantly, and I worried for an instant she might blow me off. Instead, she took a deep breath and began babbling. “I’m fine. Oh God, I’m so relieved you are too. You are, right? You’re not calling from a hospital or something?”

“I’m fine,” I reassured her. Then, I delivered the worst news ever. “Edie, it hit your parents’ neighborhood.”

She gasped. “Which one? My mom’s or my dad’s?” she asked in barely more than a whisper.

I closed my eyes, feeling the worst kind of awful. “Both. They aren’t that far apart, and we had more than one touchdown.”

Behind me, the newsroom was a riot of sound as reporters touched base with their families, and editors began planning our coverage. Most likely, they’d want to send all of us out to different parts of town. I’d make sure I got her parents’ neighborhood so I could verify her family was okay as soon as humanly possible.

Despite all the noise, Edie’s voice was my whole world as I broke the news.

“Oh my God,” she cried. “What if … what if—” she couldn’t seem to say the words, but I understood.
What if they were hurt? What if they were dead?
“I’ll never get to make things right. I’ll never get to fix anything. Why didn’t I talk to them, apologize again … do
something
?”

Her voice was thick with tears and regret, and I felt guilt unfurl in my belly. She wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for me. But for once, I couldn’t make this about me. Edie was focusing on the worst possible outcome, and I needed to bring her back from the edge.

“Edie, calm down,” I said firmly. “They could be fine. Your dad’s house has a basement, right?”

She shuddered a breath. “Yes. But my mom—”

“I know.”

A mobile home was the worst possible place to be when a tornado struck. Still, I didn’t have a visual on the damage.

“Look, we don’t know much yet, but I’ll be going out to cover the storm. Her home might not have been hit, okay? Don’t panic yet. I’ll update you as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call you when I know something. Are you somewhere safe?”

“Yeah, I’m at Wilde’s. We went to the basement.”

“Do you have somewhere to go tonight? A ride to get there?”

“Nick! Wrap it up!” Tanya called behind me.

I took a quick glance around. A few reporters were still on the phone, but most of them were making their way to the center of the room to take assignments.

I nodded and held up a finger while I made sure Edie was okay first.

“I’m good.”

“Okay, I gotta go—”

“Nick. Wait!”

“Yeah?”

“Is your family okay? I should have asked sooner, I’m sorry.”

“They’re okay. They were outside the storm’s path. Lily and Jaime’s houses weren’t hit, either,” I said.

I was a little hesitant to bring up Jaime, but I didn’t want her to worry needlessly.

“That’s great, thank you,” she said, her voice full of relief. “What about Tequila? She’s down on Barber Road on the far south end of town. The tornado hit in the south, right?”

I already knew where Tequila lived. I’d given her a ride home more than once, even met her family after the lake party fiasco. They were a little concerned about an older guy taking an interest in their daughter, but once they heard how we met and probably realized how hung up I was on Edie, it wasn’t a problem. Tequila needed positive support in her life, and I was happy to be a good influence for once.

“Yeah, but not that far south. She should be okay, assuming she was home. Maybe you could call her? Let me know if you don’t get through and I’ll make sure. I should probably make sure my family was home, too.”

I pulled out my cellphone to see I had a missed call from Tony. “Yeah, looks like Tony tried to call. I should let them know I’m fine. I’ll be in touch, okay?”

“Okay.” She sounded fully shaken up, and I could picture her chewing off all her nails until she heard from me.

“Try not to imagine the worst,” I added.

She sniffled. “Thanks, Nick. Thank you for looking out for me and my family. Lil is trying to call. I better take it and let her know I’m okay.”

“I’ll always be looking out for you, Edie,” I said softly.

I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me, how much I regretted all the stupid things I’d done to screw up our friendship. But now wasn’t the time.

“Talk to you soon. Take care.”

I hung up and sent a quick text to Tony letting him know I was okay and checking the status of the family. I joined the group gathered around Tanya as she talked about her plan for the evening, and was relieved when a text buzzed through that my family was safe.

“Damn, I could use an extra reporter right about now,” Tanya muttered. “Reg, I want you to cover the weather side of this. Talk to the weather service, get any and all info you can on how much warning residents got—”

“Tanya?” I cut in. “I’d like to help cover the hit zone, specifically the southwest side.”

She nodded. “Sean’s on emergency crews, casualties and other development. Nick, put your narrative skills to use. I want the emotional impact of the storm to come through.”

She continued to hand out assignments, and Sean nudged me. “Wanna roll together?”

I nodded, and we headed for the door.

Before leaving, I paused by Beth Dunn, the reporter assigned to talking to the hospitals about casualties coming in. I ripped out a page of my notebook paper while Sean stopped to watch. Quickly, I scribbled Edie’s parents’ names down.

“Please check on these names when you make the hospital calls, and let me know right away if any of them are admitted.”

Beth flicked a look down at the list, her fingers still on the keyboard. “Sure, Nick.”

I squeezed her shoulder in appreciation and strolled out with Sean.

As soon as we were in the car, I pulled up Edie’s parents’ numbers on my cell just to see if I could get through, but there was no answer at either number.

“Family?” he asked quietly, as he started the car and headed toward the storm’s wreckage on the south side of town.

“Edie’s family. Mine’s fine. How about yours?”

“They’re all good. Close call, though.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You know, I’ve lived in Kansas all my life, and this is the first time a tornado ever hit close to home. I am sure as hell freaked the fuck out.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered, watching through the windshield as debris began to clutter the sides of the road. Eventually, Sean had to stop because an entire downed tree blocked the road.

We both stepped out of the car and stared at the devastation.

“Jesus,” Sean breathed.

I stared at the torn landscape, my eyes not quite making sense of what I was seeing. The trees just … stopped, their branches lopped off. Street signs were down and buildings were piles of rubble. My eyes strained  to see the missing pieces of buildings and trees on the horizon, but there was nothing. It was like an unfinished picture.

I couldn’t even get a bearing on exactly where we were. I felt like I’d stepped into another world.

“What block is this?”

As stunning as this was, I had a mission and a promise to uphold. I had to find Edie’s parents, if possible.

“Should be Walnut …” Sean shook his head. “Not that you can tell. Man, okay. We better start walking. The station told me they were setting up a disaster zone a couple of blocks from here.”

“I’m gonna part ways here,” I told him. “I’m headed over toward 15th. Text me when you need to go back to the office.”

Sean frowned. “Be careful. The street is full of debris. Don’t go stepping on a nail or some shit.”

“Ditto.”

I turned left and began weaving my way toward the little house where Edie’s father lived, which was closest.

***

This was our town as I’d never seen it, and as a writer, I was already cataloguing it all in my mind — for tonight’s coverage or for a future column.

The streets were full of people. They’d poured from their homes after the storm, checking on damage, talking to neighbors, shaking with shock. They buzzed with questions, and many of them — spotting the reporter’s notebook — converged on me.

I told them what I could, which was little. The storm had hit the south and west sides of town; there’d been multiple touchdowns; they were setting up shelters at the First Methodist Church on 5th Street, and probably some others. I pointed them toward the emergency responder checkpoint where Sean had gone.

I did my job, taking down their names and their stories, but I didn’t forget about Edie’s parents. Continuing to weave around debris, I continued toward Ballinger Street. And finally, I made it to their block, and watched as a shuttle pulled to a stop. It was from a local hotel, The Comfort Lodge.

I approached as the driver stepped out of the van and began talking to residents.

“The Comfort Lodge was not hit by the storm. We have 20 rooms open, and we’re offering them to you folks on a first come, first serve basis. If you need a place to stay, grab a few things and climb on the shuttle. We’ve partnered with the restaurant next door, the Red Hen, and they are offering a courtesy breakfast to all storm victims.”

I scribbled quickly, stepping forward when I spotted Deb Mason approaching the man.

“My husband and I would love a room. We have to get a few things. Can you save our spot?”

I glanced at her house behind us. There was definitely damage. Windows broken out, the entryway collapsed inward.

The man nodded and handed her a voucher, and turned to talk to other neighbors drifting over to hear the news.

“We just want to do our part for the community,” he said.

“Deb!” I called, as she turned toward the door. As a reporter, I’d gotten in the habit of calling everyone — whether a respected judge or a high school teacher — by their first name.

She turned, her eyes widening. “Nick, you out here covering the news?”

I caught up with her, and we walked toward the house. She turned down the side yard. With the front entrance crumbled, I figured we’d go to the back. But then I saw, as we rounded the house, that the back porch had collapsed and completely buried that entrance.

She stopped in front of a window, and I glanced in to see the master bedroom.

“Partly. But I’m here, specifically, for Edie.”

“Edie? Well, she’s not here,” Deb said. “But while you’re here … can you help me get Paul out?”

I peered past her shoulder. Paul sat on the bed, resting against the wall. The lighting was poor, but he looked haggard.

“Should he go to a hospital?”

She hooked a leg over the window sill and slipped inside. “No. He’s just in pain. But it’s the usual kind he lives with every day.”

I stepped through the window, scraping my spine along the window sill when I didn’t duck enough. Gritting my teeth against the sting, I said: “How well can he move? Is this the only option for an exit?”

She pursed her lips. “There’s the garage.”

She shook her head and laughed. “I should have thought of that before. I was just so anxious to get outside and when the doors were blocked I panicked and ran for the nearest window.”

She shook her head. “Silly.”

“Not at all. You were in shock. Is the garage this way?” I asked, gesturing toward the other end of the house.

She nodded. “Just off the laundry room.”

She paused by Paul, and took his hand, squeezing it. “We’ll leave soon, honey. We get to stay at a hotel, isn’t that great?”

Deb was showing me a side I hadn’t seen when I came to interview her about Edie. She could be caring. Just not about Edie. I hadn’t failed to notice that although she misinterpreted my explanation for being here, she didn’t express any concern or even curiosity about where her step-daughter might be immediately after a tornado hit town.