Connection, page 19
“Julie!” Matt hurried into the room, flipping the overhead light on as he sat on the side of the bed. He grabbed Julie’s shoulders, shaking her gently, heart racing. “It’s me. It’s Matt.”
Julie’s eyes finally began to focus, and she recognized the features of her brother. She broke, allowing herself to be taken into his embrace. The dream images were quickly fading, but the emotions they left behind were still raw.
****
Remmy cried out as she woke, heart racing as her eyes darted around the room frantically, looking for what had frightened her so badly. She had no recollection of what had chased her into wakefulness, but she was sweating profusely. She brought her hand up and ran it through her hair, pushing it away from her face.
She was desperately thirsty, her medicines drying her mouth out terribly. The last nurse had been kind enough to move the table close enough so she could reach the water herself. She drank greedily, panting between gulps. A look out the window on the far side of the room told her dawn was just around the corner. She was glad. Her doctor told her today she would be turned over and allowed to sit up, the catheter removed. She was grateful. She was convinced that whoever had invented the catheter should be shot.
Shot.
The pain spread through her body like a wave, starting at the corner of her back and spreading. She gasped, a bolt of pain stabbing her back and reverberating at the base of her skull. She gulped several mouthfuls of air, almost panting. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get her breathing, and her pain, under control.
“My God.” She breathed, again pushing her hair back from her face. She wanted a shower in the worst way and was tempted to get up against doctor’s orders and wash up in the bathroom. For a moment she seriously contemplated that idea, eyeing the distance between the bed and the bathroom. She moved her right leg, then stopped, whimpering as fresh pain shot up her body. “Or not.”
Exhausted by her interrupted sleep and the pain medication, Remmy closed her eyes, intending to doze. She awoke six hours later to a soft nudging from one of the nurses.
“Mornin’, Rob,” she muttered, voice thick with sleep.
“Rise and shine, Remmy.” He smiled at her, checking her vital signs. “You’ve got a busy morning today. Are you ready to turn over?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
Rob chuckled. “Wouldn’t know. I’m going to get your bandages changed after the doctor comes in to take a look, then we’ll get your catheter out and get you up and moving. Sound good?”
“Sounds like Heaven.”
Rob patted her on the shoulder then left, soon to return with everything he would need, and her doctor. After the doctor proclaimed that Remmy was healing well, he left two nurses to take care of her, cleaning and changing her bandages, then the three of them got her turned around until she was seated, a groan of mingled pain and relief escaping her throat.
“You okay?” Rob asked, watching Remmy’s face carefully for any signs of the usual pain. She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip in concentration as she allowed the pain to settle. “Okay. I’ll go grab your breakfast and meds.”
Left alone, Remmy was able to view her room in its entirety. She had never been so glad to sit in her entire life. She slowly—oh so slowly—reached beside the bed and grabbed the pitcher, which was nearly out of water, and sucked down the remainder. Her smile stretched across her face as her breakfast tray was brought in and set on her side table, which was rolled over to the bed and positioned above her lap.
“I almost forgot, Remmy, someone’s here to see you. I told her to wait until you finished eating and we can get you showered and feeling a little more human. Is that alright?”
Remmy nodded, mouth too full of French toast to respond verbally.
“Cool. I’ll be back in a few. Enjoy your breakfast.”
****
Julie stepped out of the shower, intentionally turning her back toward the mirror as she quickly dried herself then tugged on her clothing—flannel pants and a sweatshirt, sized too large to define any sort of form beneath. That was one of the great things about having a brother: everything he owned was large. For the briefest of moments it made her smile, thinking back to when were children. They had come in from a long afternoon of playing in the snow, and were tired and cold. Matt went downstairs to the dryer, grabbing his own sweats and sweatshirt from the freshly dried warmth, only to have a little blonde blur steal them from his hands. He chased her upstairs, nearly running headlong into the slammed bathroom door. For years after that, whenever his clothes had gone missing, he would look through Julie’s drawers, always finding them.
Julie ran a comb through her hair, shaggy and in her face. She hadn’t decided if she wanted to get it cut or just let it grow. Part of her wanted to cut it all off in retaliation. She shook that childish thought away and opened the bathroom door, nearly tripping over Skylar, who had camped out on the floor, back against the wall and stockinged feet against the opposite wall. She couldn’t believe how much he’d grown even in the three months she had been gone.
“Well, excuse me, little man,” she said, stopping herself with a hand on either side of the open bathroom door. “I don’t think you were put on this earth to be a roadblock.”
Skylar looked up with big, almost sad, eyes. “Remember when I was little and you used to call me speed bump?” he asked, almost as though he was trying to make sure she was really his beloved aunt.
Julie sensed something was up, so she knelt down beside him, running gentle fingers through his disheveled hair. “You are my little speed bump,” she said softly, smiling at him. “Always.”
Overwhelmed with a surge of love, he threw himself into her arms, nearly knocking her backwards into the bathroom. “I love you, Aunt Julie,” he whispered.
“I love you, too, Skylar.” After a moment she pulled away, brushing a thumb over freckled cheeks, wiping away his tears. “Don’t ever forget that, okay?” At Skylar’s nod, she turned him around and sent him scampering back to his bedroom to make his bed with a playful swat to the Spider-Man pajama-clad butt.
Julie padded down the stairs, following the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing. She stopped mid-step, hand on the banister, and closed her eyes, inhaling the fragrance that brought a million and one memories back from her childhood and her life before... Before. She walked through the entryway of the house toward the kitchen where Matt was standing in front of the stove, the radio tuned to a country station on the corner of the counter. Oblivious to the amused eyes watching him, he swung his hips as he sang along with Brad Paisley.
The jingling tags of Bonnie chasing Clyde as they slid around the corner into the room finally alerted him that he wasn’t alone. Matt turned, immediately becoming an adorable shade of pink when he saw Julie leaning against the butcher block island, doing her damnedest not to laugh.
“Mornin’,” he said, turning back to the bacon, flipping over the sizzling strips. He easily shook off the embarrassment, remembering the night before instead. Turning back to her, he set the spatula down on a folded paper towel and reached out to gather her in a hug. When she flinched away, he dropped his arms and smiled.
Don’t take anything she says or does personally... It’s not about you, it’s about her.
“How are you today?”
Julie hugged herself tightly, worried she’d hurt him. She hadn’t intended for him to see her shrink from his touch, but she couldn’t bring herself to apologize. “Alright, I guess.” She gave him a weak smile, nodding toward the stove. “Smells good.”
“Thanks,” Matt said, eager to get onto a safe subject. “I figured, throw some toast in the toaster, plenty of butter, just like you like it, then some eggs—”
“No eggs,” Julie said, her eyes immediately filling with fear, the sting of emotion making her eyelids flutter.
Matt was confused. “Alright,” he said slowly. “No eggs. I thought you loved eggs. I was gonna fry them, just how you—”
“No eggs, Matt.”
“Okay. Um…” He turned back to the carton on the counter, wondering what he would make for the main breakfast course.
Julie felt her heart pound, but then she felt guilty. She could see the confusion on his face and knew he was just trying to do a good thing for her. “Why don’t I whip up some pancakes?” she said, her enthusiasm patently forced.
“You don’t have to, Jules. I can do that.”
“No.” She smiled at him; this time it was almost genuine. “You keep watch over the bacon and potatoes; you’ve got them all cubed up and spiced over there. I’ll make pancakes.”
The three of them sat at the kitchen table, Skylar digging into the pancakes as if he’d never eaten them before, pouring on more maple syrup with every bite. Julie grimaced in disgust, feeling her mouth fill with cavities as she watched. She listened as Matt and Skylar chatted with each other, Skylar filling them in about his new friend at school and his teacher this year. Their conversation and camaraderie were nice, familiar, but somehow Julie felt as if she was watching an episode on television. She couldn’t shake the feeling of disjointedness, like she didn’t belong there, didn’t have anything to add. She turned to her breakfast, trying to brush away her sadness as easily as she brushed her bangs from her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Dressed in a fresh gown with fresh dressings on her injuries and surgical incisions, Remmy was wheeled back to her room. She felt glorious. Well, that might have been too strong of a word, but she felt better for sure. She had bathed; an old biddy of a nurse had helped her. She mused that it would have been a much nicer experience if Cameron’s sister had assisted her.
Her stomach full and her body clean, Remmy allowed herself to be settled on the bed, sitting with her back against a cloud of pillows behind her. She was ready for her visitor. She told the nurse as much, and he went to fetch her.
Remmy was left with her thoughts. The nightmare that had woken her, which she still couldn’t remember, left her troubled and feeling mildly frightened. What made it worse was that she was frightened of something she had no knowledge of. When Grace had come to visit her the night before, the detective had seemed startled and concerned that Remmy didn’t remember the women she named: Pamela and Julie. Neither name rang a bell, though she felt as if they should. The names, and any link to them, were sucked into the void that was the emptiness in her mind. Her troubled thoughts were interrupted by the opening of her door.
A woman poked her head inside. She wore her long dark hair pulled back in a French braid. Her eyes were nearly as dark as her hair. Seeing Remmy propped up on the bed, she pushed the door open, stepped inside, and let the door slowly slide closed behind her.
Remmy studied her, dark eyebrows drawn, but they slowly rose as her mouth fell open. Standing before her was a ghost of her lost and misspent youth. She tried to push herself up, but stopped as pain scorched through her.
“Stay put. Don’t hurt yourself.” The visitor walked over to the bed and stared down at Remmy, eyes full of mischief. Without a word, the cousins embraced, Monica holding Remmy’s head against her chest as strong arms encircled her waist. They said nothing, just as they’d never had to say anything in their disjointed past.
Finally Remmy pulled back and looked into the face of her beloved Monica. As her cousin sat in the chair next to the bed, Remmy grasped her hand, refusing to relinquish physical contact. “Where did you come from? Where did you go? Jesus, I thought you were dead.”
Monica smiled, soft wisps of dark hair framing her pretty face. “I nearly was. Picked myself up out of a gutter one day. The money I’d made the night before had been stolen, and I decided I was going to die. Just up ahead I saw a small church and staggered inside.” She squeezed Remmy’s hands. “I’ve been looking for you for years, Rem. I had no idea where you’d gone.”
Remmy smiled. Hot damn! I’ve got family again. “I’ve been everywhere. Nowhere. Ended up here.” Her brow wrinkled. “How did you know I was here?”
“Saw it on the news. You’re quite the hero. It’s everywhere—how you led the police to those women.” Monica smiled, pride glowing in her eyes. “I guess you found a use for your visions, huh?”
Remmy studied her, slowly shaking her head. Her voice was a whisper. “I don’t remember, Mon. People keep telling me that, but I have no clue what they’re talking about. I’m a little scared.”
Monica studied their joined hands for a moment before she met troubled blue eyes. She had always wished she’d gotten Remmy’s eyes from their grandfather, too. “Rem, you’re so important to me, and we’re all each other has as far as family goes. I don’t want to lose you again. I’ve got a small house in Omaha. I came here with the intention of taking you back home with me.”
The words made Remmy happy, eager to be with her cousin, but then something else crept in. Something...something missing. She thought back over her life in Woodland, brief though it was, and tried to figure out what it was that was telling her to stay. She thought about her small apartment, which was nice but certainly expendable. She thought about her job, which was also nice, but she’d had a million of those. Yes, she’d made friends, but none that could compare to Monica…her family…her best friend.
Monica studied Remmy’s face intently, hoping she’d say yes. At Remmy’s nod, Monica grinned, hugging her to her again.
****
Grace was making notes on her research for her latest case, a hit and run that had left a ten year old girl dead in the gutter. She was pushing her reading glasses up on her nose when she was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. She glanced up and smiled at seeing Joan Watson standing there. Joan fell into the chair next to Grace’s desk.
“Hi. Sorry to interrupt you at work, but an officer showed me where you were.”
“No problem, Joan. How’s it going?” Grace removed her glasses, setting them aside as she leaned back in her office chair.
“Oh, fine. I’m a little bummed, though,” she said, digging into her purse and producing a small, folded piece of paper. She set it on the edge of Grace’s desk. “I’ve lost my favorite employee. And tenant.”
Grace took the paper and unfolded it. It was the check for six hundred dollars she’d given Joan just over a week ago. She raised questioning eyes.
“Remmy’s gone, Grace. Knowing she was due to be released, I went to see her this morning. I had planned to take her home. The room was empty, the bed freshly made. The nurse said Remmy was released this morning, and left with her cousin. She left this, though.” Joan handed Grace a folded piece of paper.
“Cousin?” Grace repeated, taking the paper. She hadn’t been aware Remmy had any family. It was irrelevant now. She released a heavy sigh. “Oh. And she left the area?” Grace unfolded the page to find a couple words jotted down in ink.
Thanks for everything. Best of luck.
R.
“I guess. The cousin was from the Midwest somewhere, the nurse said. I guess she’d been here for the past few days.” She shook her head. “I wish...I don’t know. I guess I wish things could’ve been different, that she would have stayed and returned to the life she’d made here. She had a job, a place to live, friends.”
Grace refolded the note and pocketed it, then smiled. “But consider her life here, Joan,” she said softly. “She was tortured with visions of Sergio Venti, and forced to live the horrors that Julie, Pam, Roxie, and Cameron did.” Grace sipped her coffee. “To be honest, I just hope she can find some peace.”
Joan sighed, knowing Grace was right. “I feel we all let her down, somehow,” she said, her voice soft. “Maybe we should’ve been there for her more.” She laughed nervously. “Hell, I’m palming off my own guilt. Maybe I should’ve been there more for her.”
Grace patted Joan’s knee. “Don’t beat yourself up, Joan. Remmy is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. She’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, but I’ll miss her.” Joan sighed. “I think a lot of folks will.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Julie walked around the room, looking at everything, fingers grazing her things. The house smelled stuffy. She knew Matt had come over when he could to air things out, but he had his own home and son to take care of. Distantly she heard Bonnie and Clyde running through the house, also happy to be home. She walked into every room, forever grateful that the abduction hadn’t happened here. She knew there was no way she could have stepped foot back inside if it had. The mere thought of going back to the school made her stomach churn.
She had been seeing Dr. Corregan every day for three and a half weeks, and the good doctor felt it was time for Julie to start expanding her borders, edging outside of Matt’s house. Matt had gone back to work at the beginning of the previous week, which terrified her, as she had to start getting herself back and forth to see Dr. Corregan, but at the same time, it had filled her with a sense of accomplishment. She had even offered to take care of Skylar occasionally during the past week. Earlier in this day, Julie had asked to use the car to visit her own house.
She walked over to the French doors that led into the backyard, where she had spent so much time over the summer, planting flowers and a small garden. The yard wasn’t huge, but it was large enough for her and her dogs, and she’d had a barbecue or two on the small cement patio.
Taking a deep breath, Julie grasped the ends of the two heavy curtains in her fists and pulled them apart. She half-expected to see that bastard standing on the other side, but he wasn’t there. She had expressed her fears to Dr. Corregan that part of her couldn’t reconcile with the fact that Sergio was dead. Her therapist had suggested maybe she should visit his grave, prove to herself that he was, in fact, dead and could never hurt her again. She was considering it but wasn’t ready. Not yet.
