Moonstone (29 page)

“Do you still love her?”

“I don’t know what I feel.” Kelsey shook her head. “Responsibility I guess.”

“Responsible? She stole your car, sweetie. Then she crashed it. When you pissed her off last time, she got you fired. And don’t get me started on the issue we never talk about…”

“You can say it.”

“I don’t want to bring it up right now,” Barb said.

“Too late.” Kelsey knew exactly what her mom
wasn’t
talking about. She’d made plenty of references to Hannah and drugs without ever accusing Kelsey of anything. But Kelsey knew her mom suspected even if she wouldn’t ask directly. Still Kelsey wasn’t going to volunteer the truth.

Barb shook her head. “She’s just never been good for you. That’s all I have to say.”

“Hannah never forced me to do anything, Mom,” Kelsey said. “She had what I wanted at the time. I wish that wasn’t true, but it is.”

“And I wish you’d never gotten together with her.” Barb turned off the main road and stopped at an intersection. When the light changed, she glanced at Kelsey before pulling forward. “You don’t owe her anything. You don’t have to go see her.”

A red and white sign pointed the way to the hospital parking lot. “Thanks for the ride. You can drop me off over there.” Kelsey pointed to the turnoff for the hospital entrance. “There’s no reason for you to wait. I need to go to the rental car place next anyway and I can get a cab from here. Since I won’t be getting my car back I might as well get a rental.”

Barb eyed Kelsey. “You don’t want to go in there alone, do you?”

“Hannah’s family will be there. I’ll be fine.”

Barb shook her head but pulled over to the curb. Kelsey could easily guess her mom’s thoughts. Hannah’s family was no help, never had been.

Kelsey made her way through the hospital’s parking lot maze and found the front entrance. According to the volunteer at the information desk, Hannah wasn’t in ICU. She’d been admitted, which meant, Kelsey hoped, that she wasn’t in danger of dying anytime soon. The woman at the desk pointed to the elevator as she said, “Room Three Hundred and Four. You’ll sign in upstairs.”

Kelsey’s cell phone beeped with a text. Joy.
Denise told me about the car accident. I’m guessing you’re going to the hospital. Do you need a ride? Or company?

Kelsey stared at the screen as the elevator doors slid closed. Thoughtful. It was already on her list of the qualities that made Joy too perfect to be her girlfriend. This was only a reminder. She pressed the button for the third floor. As much as she wanted someone standing next to her when she saw Hannah, she knew she needed to walk into Room 304 alone.

The hallway outside of the room was deserted. Kelsey poked her head in the room. A drape was pulled halfway around a bed and the room was quiet. She stood in the doorway wondering if the woman working the information desk had given her the wrong room number. She spotted a nurse at a desk further down the hallway.

“I’m looking for Hannah Padgett’s room?”

“I’ll need you to sign in first.”

“Is she up for visitors?”

The nurse pushed the clipboard across the desk. “If she’s awake I don’t see why not. But you’ll need to keep the visit short. She needs her rest.”

Kelsey’s hand shook as she handed the pen back to the nurse. “How bad is she?”

“Not bad, considering,” Sadie said. She was sitting in a waiting area off to the side of the nurses’ desk. She stood up, tossing the magazine she’d been holding onto the stack of discarded newspapers and magazines.

“Apparently she flipped your car three times before parking it in the ditch,” Sadie continued. She walked over to the nurses’ desk and gave the nurse a wan smile. “That’s my sister. She doesn’t half-ass anything. Why waste time with fender benders when you can total a fifty-thousand dollar car that’s less than a year old?”

“That’s Hannah,” Kelsey agreed.

“She’s lucky she’s alive and only has a few broken bones to show for it,” Sadie said. “Your car’s toast.”

“Cars can be replaced,” Kelsey said.

The nurse glanced from Sadie to Kelsey. She verified Kelsey’s name on her list and then turned back to her stack of paperwork, seemingly uninterested in the details of a car accident.

“Since you’re here, I’m going to take a break. If you don’t mind, that is,” Sadie said. She glanced at Room 304’s open door. “There’s an uncomfortable chair in there by the bed. Make yourself at home. I was in her room since they moved her up from ICU, but she kicked me out five minutes ago. She’s cranky.”

Kelsey nodded.

“She’s staying here until they get her into surgery, so don’t let her convince you to break her out. I’m going down to the lobby to get some coffee and make a few calls.”

Kelsey watched Sadie disappear into the elevator. She glanced at the nurse and then at Room 304.

“Go on in,” the nurse said. She didn’t look up from her paperwork. “She’s probably only cranky because of the pain meds they gave her. If you’re not used to it, the medication can really mess with your head.”

Kelsey nodded. Not used to pain meds? She didn’t know where to begin with how wrong the nurse’s assumption was. Kelsey didn’t knock on the open door. She approached the bed slowly and pulled the drape back only far enough to peek around the thin green fabric to see the form lying on the white hospital sheets. Hannah’s eyes were closed. Both of her hands were bandaged and her cheek and forehead were streaked with cherry-red marks. A laceration on her chin had been butterflied with white tape.

Hannah opened her eyes and stared at Kelsey. Her eyes fluttered open and closed a few times before she said, “Hey…look who showed up.” She closed her eyes again and said, “Sorry about the car.”

Kelsey went to her bedside. “Flipped three times. That’s gotta take some talent.”

“Right? Thank god I’ve got a hard head.” Hannah managed a crooked smile and then cringed with the effort. “No smiling. And I can’t laugh. Broken ribs…I can’t remember what else the doctor said. Anyway.” Hannah paused. She opened her eyes and glanced at Kelsey. “It hurts when I breathe. Hurts when I move.” Hannah took a few shallow breaths, clearly uncomfortable, and then added, “Coughing sucks. I figure laughing will kill me. I haven’t had any reason to laugh yet.” The same crooked smile followed by a grimace. “God’s got my back.”

“Sadie said something about surgery.”

Hannah’s nod was slow. “They’ve got to pin the broken bones. My arms are on fire if I even try to wiggle my pinkies.” She paused again and then motioned to the IV line. “I tried to tell them that it probably isn’t a good idea to put me on morphine but they didn’t listen.” Hannah sighed. “Have a seat. Your car’s totaled.”

Kelsey pushed the sheets aside and made room on the edge of Hannah’s bed. It was strange sitting next to her now. She seemed so calm.
She’s drugged, not calm
, Kelsey reminded herself. “I don’t care about the car. I’m just glad you’re alive. Sounds like it was a bad accident.”

“My folks talked with the police. They said the air bags saved me. Damn air bags.” Her gaze focused on Kelsey. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new car.”

“The insurance company will pay for a new car.”

Hannah didn’t respond. She stared out the window. “So, here we are. Talking. Finally talking. Finally.” Hannah closed her eyes. “But the pain’s getting worse.” She paused. “I’m going to need you to call the nurse for more drugs and then I’ll fall asleep again and you’ll be off the hook.”

Kelsey reached for the call button and relayed the message to the nurse.

“What color Audi do you want this time? Black is always nice. Or red. I’ve always liked red.”

“You aren’t buying me another car, Hannah.”
You can deal with your own guilt
, Kelsey silently added. “The insurance will give me a check and I’ll have a down payment for a nice Nissan Ultima.”

Hannah didn’t try to smile at the joke. “You came to see me,” she said. “I was just lying here thinking you wouldn’t show and then you walked in the door. So now I know it isn’t over.”

Kelsey took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She knew she had to stop Hannah before she got any further, but she didn’t want the argument. Not now. She stared at the lines connecting Hannah to the machines. “You know it’s over. We both know.”

“I miss you.”

Kelsey couldn’t make eye contact with her. She kept her gaze focused on the machines and the flashing numbers. Hannah moaned as she shifted on the bed.

“Can you push up my pillow?” She raised her bandaged hands and then sighed heavily. “I can’t even press the call button for the nurse.”

Kelsey adjusted the pillow, careful not to touch Hannah. But she couldn’t help looking into her eyes. Pale blue. And so fragile. Everyone said Hannah’s eyes were striking and people certainly stared. The pale color couldn’t hide Hannah’s weaknesses.

When she’d settled back on the pillow, Hannah said, “I don’t think I’ve ever needed pain meds more than now.” She grimaced as she shifted again. “Remember the last time I was in a hospital? I do. Last time they were trying to keep me from killing myself with pain meds. This time the nurse keeps asking if I want another push of Dilaudid. Sure, I’ll take another hit. I could probably get switched to Fentanyl if I play my cards right. I like Fentanyl.” A smile edged her lips. “Seems ironic, doesn’t it? And now you’re finally listening to me…” Hannah was quiet for a full minute before she said, “The problem is, I still love you. You say you don’t love me, but you’re here. So, what does that mean?”

Kelsey didn’t answer. Hannah’s voice was strained, and it was obvious that talking was draining her. Kelsey eyed the door, hoping the nurse would interrupt. No one appeared. She focused again on the monitors attached to Hannah. The numbers made no sense, but she watched the zigzagging line track the heart as if she knew what the lines meant.

Kelsey closed her eyes and listened only to the beeping machine. She’d listened to Joy’s heartbeat for hours. Nestled against Joy’s chest, she’d trained her ear on the barely audible thumping until she forgot about everything else. She must have fallen asleep finally to the sound. It was her last memory of the night.

“I want another chance,” Hannah said. Her voice was only a whisper.

Kelsey knew she was in pain. “You need to rest, Hannah.”

“You need to give me that at least. Another chance.”

“‘At least’?” Kelsey hated even responding to Hannah’s request but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

“You owe me that.”

It was too ridiculous a statement to even argue. Kelsey clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. “We don’t owe each other anything. Not anymore.” She stared at Hannah for a long moment. Hannah was waiting to get high. Like always. “We were both waiting for a last goodbye. This is it.”

The nurse arrived with the syringe. She asked Hannah to say her full name and birthdate which she managed through clenched teeth and then the nurse slid the needle into the injection port. As she pressed down on the syringe, Hannah closed her eyes and murmured, “Thank you.”

By the time the nurse left, Hannah was beginning to relax. The lines around her eyes eased. Kelsey guessed she was going to fall asleep soon. She stood up. “Goodbye, Hannah,” she whispered.

Hannah’s head rocked from side to side. “You’ll be back to visit me. No goodbyes.”

“This is goodbye.” There was no doubt in Kelsey’s mind. It wasn’t about the drugs or about crashed cars. She didn’t blame Hannah for anything that had happened. Not anymore. They’d fallen in together and of course there’d been an attraction, but it was all so long ago. Now there was nothing left. No longing. No tenderness. And no more blaming. She only felt sorry for her. “I need to start over. So do you.”

“I want to start over with you.” Hannah’s words were slurred.

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“But it could,” Hannah argued. Her eyes were closed.

Kelsey leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Don’t let them get you hooked again. I know exactly how stubborn you are—stubborn enough to quit when you decide it’s time.”

Hannah didn’t try to argue. The drugs had already settled in.

Three weeks passed without a phone call. The texts were brief but consistent. Joy texted once each night before she sat down to dinner and then once again before she fell asleep. Kelsey always responded within minutes. Sometimes she seemed to be waiting for Joy’s text, but she never texted first. Her reply was always the same:
Not yet
. That was the synopsis in so many words although each night the words were slightly different.
Not yet for dinner, not yet for a walk on the beach or another kayaking trip, not yet for a movie or an evening concert on the waterfront…not yet.

Joy couldn’t believe that she kept asking and yet she did. She would have stopped texting, but Kelsey had made it clear that she waited for their short exchanges and didn’t think she’d fall asleep without it. So Joy kept up their strange communication. If there was any progress on Kelsey’s end it was impossible to know. She worried that they’d simply reached a status quo on “Not Yets.” Every night when she lay down to sleep, she promised that she wouldn’t text Kelsey again. But that promise never held.

Denise had told Joy enough to keep her in the loop. Hannah had stolen Kelsey’s car and she had been drunk when she’d crashed it. In addition to the other charges filed against her, she had earned her third DUI. But Denise thought Hannah’s parents knew enough lawyers in town, as well as judges, to get Hannah off without any prison time. And for whatever reason, Kelsey wasn’t pressing any charges against Hannah—at least according to Denise. Joy wanted to know if Denise was right, but in the three weeks of texting she hadn’t managed to bring up anything about the car or about Hannah. She hadn’t asked anything important and Kelsey hadn’t volunteered.

Joy had told Vanessa about Kelsey. At least the basics. They weren’t exactly dating so there wasn’t a lot to say. Vanessa’s only response had been over text:
Watch yourself. She sounds like a user.

Joy had stared at that line of text for a long time. She’d even gone back and reread Vanessa’s words wondering exactly what Vanessa had meant. User. Vanessa still texted every day but the exchanges were short. She was off and on with Tina and there was a new girl on the scene—Tina’s old roommate, Molly. But, Joy reminded herself, Vanessa always juggled more than one lover.