Almost Beautiful, page 9
There was nothing. Nothing could make me feel better in that situation other than knowing Abby was okay.
I scanned Camille’s face. She was strangely serene for being so bloody, beat up and pale.
“You’re right. I don’t. This fucking sucks, brother, and I’m sorry.”
Trenton’s eyes returned to mine. His bottom lip quivered. “I tried to stop her.”
I gently cupped the back of his neck, leaning my forehead close to his. “We know. She knows.”
“She …” He sniffed and cleared his throat a few times before he could continue. “The guy from before. He’s in town. Came to see her and Bishop saw them.”
“Bishop?” I asked.
“He works with us at Skin Deep. Anyway, Bishop said the piece of shit tried to kiss her. I told Cami I was done. I didn’t mean us, I meant done waiting around for him to decide to leave her alone. He knows about me.”
Abby sighed and covered her eyes with her hand.
“She thought I meant I was done with her, and it upset her. Bad. So, she took off in her car. I jumped in and was trying to get her to pull over. I begged her. She was upset and it was all my fault. She was getting ready to stop, though, when we got hit. And now,” he looked over at her, his bottom lip trembling. He lifted his good arm to gesture in her direction. “She’s lying in that bed, lost in her head somewhere, and I can’t get to her.”
Dad stared at the floor.
I felt like the only one in the room that didn’t know the full story.
“Dad …” I said. “What aren’t you saying?”
He hesitated, saved just before he spoke by the nurse who entered the room.
Deep, double dimples bordered her wide smile. She was chewing a wad of gum the same color as her bright scrubs. “Hi all,” she whispered. “I’m Katie. I hear you have someone on the way. Someone will be bringing more chairs soon. In the meantime, I’ll be setting Trenton’s arm. I hear he doesn’t want to go to the casting room, so Rosh will be in momentarily with equipment.”
Trenton was unfazed.
“Shouldn’t the, uh, the doctor set his arm?” I asked.
Katie slapped the X-rays on the viewer and flipped on the light.
Abby’s face scrunched at the images, and I inwardly cringed.
Katie turned to us, her dirty-blond hair bouncing. “I’m a PA ... and I’m all you’ve got. After Trenton’s recent outburst, all the doctors offered me as sacrifice.”
“Pussies,” Trenton said with a huff.
A man wearing black scrubs pushed through the door, wheeling in equipment, a tray full of supplies, and a bowl of water.
“Hi, Rosh,” Katie said, chipper even when whispering.
Rosh held up a roll of lime green casting tape. “I brought the best color we have.”
“Thank you,” Katie said. She lowered her chin. “Just waiting on the extra bed and the anesthesiologist.”
Trenton shook his head. “No. I gotta be ready when she wakes up.”
Katie hesitated, then took a glimpse at each person in the room. “She has family here. And, you’ll be here, just not here here.”
Trenton pushed his shoulders back, righting his posture. “I can do it.”
Empathy weighed down Katie’s expression. “If you yell …”
“I won’t make a fucking peep,” Trenton said, meeting her gaze. “I swear.”
Katie watched him for a moment, and then nodded. “I believe that. Okay, Rosh, let’s do this.”
She washed her hands, dried them, and then put on a pair of blue gloves while Rosh set a chair in front of Trenton, checking his wheelchair to make sure his locks were secure.
Trenton braced himself while Katie removed the blanket splint and ice pack. She palpated his arm, and then nodded to Rosh.
Abby held her breath, and Dad stood and walked a few steps away.
“Here, Dad. Sit,” I said.
He shook his head, waving me away.
Katie looked up at Trenton from under her brow. “Ready? We’re going to start with your wrist first.”
He nodded, and Katie pressed and pulled, manipulating his wrist and hand.
Trenton’s face turned red, and his jaw was taut.
I grabbed his left hand, and he dug his fingers into my skin.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Katie said softly. “Don’t want you passing out on me if you’re not prone in a bed. Almost finished.”
Trenton breathed in through his nose.
“That’s right. Concentrate on your breathing. You’re doing great.” She pressed and moved his hand around.
I disagreed with her. I was hoping to God he’d pass out. But Trenton withstood the pain, determined to be awake and alert for Camille.
Focused, Katie moved on to the second break.
Just when I thought Trenton couldn’t take another second, his arm straightened, and Katie signaled to Rosh.
“Okay, the worst is over,” she said. She placed the material while holding his arm in place, Rosh wetted something else, and then began wrapping his arm.
“Beautiful,” Rosh said, grinning as he wrapped the lime green tape around the cast.
“As soon as that disaster dries, I get first dibs to sign it,” I said. “I already know what I’m gonna say.”
“It’s not a disaster,” Katie said. “That’s one beautiful cast.”
Dad quietly stood in the corner, letting me take my turn pacing.
“Camille’s family was contacted. Why haven’t they shown up?” I asked.
“Her family’s … complicated,” Trenton said.
“Nothing’s complicated enough that you don’t show up for something like this,” I said.
“Inexcusable,” Jim muttered. “Well, we’re her family now. We’ll just make sure we’re all she needs.”
Trent sat in his wheelchair next to her bed, still as a statue and only once in a while whispering something to her that I couldn’t decipher.
Abby’s stomach growled, and she looked to me, apologetic. “Anyone up for some all-night fast food?”
We all raised our hand, even Trenton.
“Okay, I’ll go grab some dinner.” She kissed me once.
“Be careful, baby.”
“What are the odds of two people in our family getting in an accident in the same night?” she asked.
Dad frowned. “Unfortunately, sis, with us, the odds aren’t in your favor. Wear your seatbelt. Stay alert. You’re not too tired, are ya?”
Abby shook her head. “I’m fine. Text me what you want from In-and-Out.” She pointed at my dad. “I won’t check it until I get there.”
Waiting for her to get back seemed to take an eternity. I paced, and paced some more, checking my phone even though I knew she wasn’t supposed to text while driving.
“She’s okay, bro,” Trenton said.
“I know. I know she is.”
The room was somehow quieter without her there even though she’d barely made a peep before. I tried not to look at Camille, because every time I did, it sent a wave of panic through my body.
My phone pinged, I read it and sighed. “She made it there. Waiting on food.”
Dad smiled, tired but relieved. “She’ll be back in no time, son.”
Within twenty minutes, she was back, divvying out our food. We ate in silence, cleaned up in silence, and the time seemed to pass from one nurse or doctor’s visit at a time.
After another hour and a few more tests, the staff informed us they’d be moving Camille upstairs.
“Why isn’t she waking up?” Trenton asked.
The doctor took a breath and shook her head. “The brain is complicated. The swelling is going down, and her brain function is great, so that’s good news. She’s healing. Her brain is likely keeping everything shut down while she does—also good news. We got her a room in four-fourteen. It’s a corner suite. Really nice, and more room for your brother and dad to pace.” She winked and nodded once before leaving the room.
I gently patted Trenton’s good shoulder for encouragement, and then nurses arrived to gather Camille’s monitoring devices and IV poles.
They worked fast, unlocking her gurney in preparation for the trip upstairs before we realized they were ready.
We followed the nurses out, waving to Katie and Rosh as we passed the ER staff’s station. When we reached the elevator, everyone immediately saw a problem. Camille’s gurney and Trenton’s wheelchair wouldn’t fit in the same elevator.
“We’ll see you up there,” the nurse said, her strawberry blond hair grazing her shoulders.
Trenton used his good hand to push up.
I rushed to lock his wheels, and the nurse’s eyes grew wide.
“Please don’t!” she said.
Trenton hobbled into the elevator, steadying himself with the railing on the gurney. He nodded to me. “See you up top.”
The elevator doors swept closed, and I waited three seconds before pushing the button again.
Abby huffed.
“You’re still angry?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry, but yes. I can’t help but think she doesn’t deserve all the fuss he’s making over her. And then Thomas …”
“Tommy? What about him?” I asked.
“He should be here by now. That’s all I’m going to say,” she grumbled.
The other elevator opened, revealing an empty space. Abby guided Dad on, and I pushed Trenton’s wheelchair in after them.
“I don’t mean to talk bad about her while she’s practically in a coma … God, I’m an awful person. It’s just … Never mind.”
“Tommy’s flying here, Pidge. It’s going to take him awhile. He’s probably sick with worry.”
“Sure he is.” She said it under her breath, but I still caught it.
I started to defend him again, but Dad spoke up.
“I understand, sis,” Dad said. “It’s an emotional day. Sometimes it just feels better to blame someone. It’s the only way we can make sense of it all.”
When the elevator opened, we stepped out to see Thomas standing at the fourth-floor nurses’ station.
“Hey!” I said.
He flipped around and came at me with open arms. “Have you heard anything?”
“Trent is awake.”
“And Camille?” Thomas asked.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and shrugged. “She’s not.”
I noticed Thomas’s shoulders sag.
“Trenton’s arm is broken in two places,” I said. “Carried her over a mile to the closest house.”
Thomas shook his head, the deep wrinkle between his brow softening. “That’s what the nurses said. Holy hell. He’s been here one night and is already a legend.”
“It’s so great that you came, and that you got here so quickly.” Abby shrugged with an innocent smile on her face, but I knew her. Something was up.
Thomas hugged Dad and then nodded, his head swirling with thoughts. He glanced at all of us. “Can we go see them?”
“Yeah,” Dad said. “They put her at the end of the hall ... four-fourteen.”
Thomas was in a hurry to get to the room, and Abby shot me a glance just before he pushed through the door.
Once he saw Camille, he froze, covering his mouth. His hand left his lips and ran over the top of his short dirty-blond hair. “You ... you okay, little brother?” he whispered, his eyes never leaving Camille.
“I’ll live,” Trenton said. He sounded exhausted.
Abby closed the door behind the nurses as they left, and we watched Thomas approach Camille’s bed.
He touched her fingers tenderly. Trenton watched, too, confusion darkening his face.
“What the fuck are you doing, Tommy?” Trenton asked, suddenly alert.
“I should have come sooner,” he said, his face crumpling. “I’m sorry, Trent.”
Trenton wrinkled his nose. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“I ... didn’t fly in. I’ve been sitting in my car waiting just long enough to make you believe that I was.”
“What?” I asked.
Thomas loosened his tie.
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked.
Thomas’s lips pressed together. “I don’t … I don’t fucking know. I sat out there … feeling stupid, feeling worried sick, drowning in guilt. It was fucking agony, and I’m so tired of ... I'm sorry,” Thomas said again, this time to Camille.
“Tommy,” I said, taking a step. “You all right, man?”
Thomas turned to face us, hesitating when he looked to Dad. “I’ve been in town. I came because of the fire, but then I stayed ...”
“Because of the fire,” Abby said, unconvinced.
She lifted her chin. She studied Thomas the way she did cards in her hand. Her expression smoothed, as if she were relieved by a freeing truth. She sighed. “Just tell them.”
“Tommy,” Dad said quickly. “Maybe you should wait until everything settles down.”
“Tell us what?” Trenton asked.
Thomas looked a little desperate and a lot guilty. “I can’t.” He gestured to Abby. “Go ahead.”
Abby hesitated.
I turned to her. “Tell us what?”
She swallowed, seeming to try to choke down the elephant in the room. “Thomas James,” she whispered.
I frowned, irritated that I hadn’t caught on. But Trenton had.
He paled. “No.”
“Trent,” Thomas begged.
“No!” Trenton said, louder than we’d been speaking for hours. His breath became labored, and then he struggled for every lungful of air. He looked at our oldest brother, hurt and disappointed. “Tommy!” he said, his voice begging. “Tell me I’m wrong!”
Abby leaned in to whisper in my ear. “The guy from California Cami was dating ... T.J.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Oh, fuck.”
Thomas stood in the middle of the room like a sitting duck, ashamed and more alone than I’d ever seen him.
I walked over to him, and then paused, my gaze falling on Trenton. I didn’t know what to do. We’d never experienced this before.
“It’s okay,” Trenton said finally. “It’s okay, Tommy. I get it.”
Thomas was overwhelmed with Trenton’s forgiveness, barely able to say his next words. “But you loved her first.”
“And she was your first love,” Trenton said. He chuckled, an awkward way to discharge his discomfort. “She tried to warn me. I wouldn’t listen.”
“Because I made her lie to you. Don’t make excuses for me, Trent.”
Trenton raised his good arm and let it fall back to the arm of his wheelchair. “What do you want me to say, Tommy? You want me to hate you? Yell at you? Throw a punch? You’re my brother. I love you no matter what. And Cami … Cami loves you, too.”
Thomas slowly shook his head. “Not like she loves you.”
A small, appreciative smile touched Trenton’s lips, and he looked at Camille. “I know.”
“We’re, uh ...” Abby said, waiting for me. I nodded, and she continued. “It’s late,” she said, hooking her arm around mine. “We’re going to go home. We’ll be back in the morning. Need us to do anything before we go?”
Trenton shook his head.
“You need a ride, Dad?” I asked. He shook his head, too.
I hugged him and Thomas, and then carefully curled my arm around Trenton, waved good-bye, and then led my wife by the hand to the elevator.
We didn’t speak until we reached the car. I opened her door, jogged around to mine, and slid behind the wheel. As soon as my fingers curled around the top of the steering wheel, I puffed out a breath.
“You knew?” I asked. “How did you know?”
She opened her mouth to speak, then couldn’t.
“How, Pigeon? How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Not until I heard he was flying in. I tried to tell myself that maybe I was wrong, considering the twins couldn’t come, but… then I thought about what they could be fighting about and T.J. came to mind. Then … Thomas. It just clicked.” She reached out to me and intertwined her fingers with mine. “You okay?”
“I don’t know. That was intense,” I said. I backed the car out of its parking spot and headed toward the apartment.
The clock in the dashboard read 3:47 a.m. Our headlamps were one of the only pairs illuminating the backroads of Eakins.
We pulled into the apartment, and we both sighed, then trudged to the apartment. We greeted Toto, and then undressed and crawled into bed.
Abby lay her head on my chest, nuzzling my neck.
“It’s been a long day,” I said.
“Sure has.”
“Do me a favor, Pigeon.”
“Now?”
“Just … for future reference.”
“Okay …?”
“Don’t fall in love with Tommy. I won’t take it as well as Trent.”
“Deal,” she said, sleepy, and then her breathing evened out.
Chapter Ten
Compromise
Abby
IT ONLY TOOK ME THREE days to find the two men who’d approached America and me at The Red—and who’d subsequently had their asses handed to them by Travis and Shepley.
I caught a glimpse of them as they made their way to a doorway at the end of the hall from my English Lit class. I paused to make sure it was them, and then carefully followed, being sure to remain unseen.
Once I reached the end of the hall, I peeked around the corner, watching Justin sit down behind a computer.
Ricky stood nearby, a stack of papers in his hand. He seemed to be dictating to Justin.
The room they were in was abuzz. Some students were hopping from one desk to the next, the others tapping away from behind their computer screens.
I leaned back to see if any signage was on the door just to make sure it wasn’t a small, out-of-the-way library I didn’t know about.
As I leaned in to try to hear what Ricky was saying, a girl I recognized from my statistics class shouldered past me.
“Excuse me,” she said, in a hurry.
“Wait!” I said.
She turned around, her expression a combination of aggravation and confusion. “What? I’m late.”
