Breakout Play Page 10

  “I’m so glad you were there,” my brother said into William’s shoulder. “And so sorry you were there, too. Thank you.”

  William nodded into Keith’s shoulder and then they stepped apart. They walked teary-eyed back to where I was sitting. Keith sat beside me and William took a seat across the hall. I watched as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Then he ran his hands down his face, seemingly oblivious to the dried blood coating his hands and wrists and staining his pants and shirt. His fingers plunged into his hair as he hung his head and let out a deep breath. His shoulders slumped.

  I gnawed at the inside of my cheek. William looked spent and drained. I wondered if his head was down because he couldn’t look any of us in the eye.

  I glanced at the clock. We’d only been here for twenty-three minutes. We still had a lot of time to kill.

  Standing up, I stepped across the hall and stopped in front of William.

  His hands fell from his head and he looked up at me. His eyes were glassy.

  I held out a hand. “Come on.”

  He didn’t ask questions. He slipped his hand into mine and stood, and I led him away from my mother and brother, who I told we’d be right back. Keith moved to sit beside Mom and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her into him. I heard her start to cry as William and I rounded the corner. I took him to the bathroom I’d noticed on the way up here. It was a unisex wheelchair bathroom. I shouldered the door open and closed and locked it behind us.

  Then I pulled William to the sink. I turned the water on and held his hands under the stream. I made sure it wasn’t too hot and proceeded to wash my father’s blood from his hands and forearms. I washed my hands, too. The water ran red and spiralled down the drain and I proceeded to use more soap until it was gone from under our nails and in the crevices of our skin. It still stained his clothes, but at least his hands were clean.

  I used a paper towel to pat our hands dry and tossed it in the wastebasket.

  William stood before me looking down at his hands. His fingers flexed. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Silently, I stepped in close and wrapped my arms around his waist before nestling my cheek against his chest. He stood stone still in my embrace for a moment, and then he wrapped his arms around me and held me close. His cheek found the top of my head and we stood like that for awhile. I listened to his heart beating against my cheek. I breathed in the smell of him and the blood and the sanitary hospital smell.

  And then I closed my eyes and prayed like hell that my daddy was going to make it out of surgery.

  And I cried.

  William held me tighter.

  16

  William

  Everything happened so fast. Too fast.

  Roger had died on me. Right there in his own living room. Somehow I’d brought him back, but I couldn’t help but feel like it was all for nothing and the doctors were going to come out of the ER room and tell us we’d lost him again.

  That I hadn’t done enough.

  Hadn’t acted quickly enough.

  Had fucked it all up.

  It took everything I had to keep myself from unravelling in front of the Renwicks as we waited to hear news about the surgery. Minutes turned into hours, and when ten-thirty rolled around and we were still sitting in the hall, my phone started ringing.

  The team was wondering where the hell I was. I didn’t dare pick up the phone and tell them what happened. I knew full well if I tried to recount what happened in the Renwick living room I’d cry like a baby into the phone and once I broke it would be impossible to pull myself back together.

  The team could wait. The Renwicks needed me to be strong.

  Kim needed me to be strong.

  She was sitting across from me with her head resting on her brother’s shoulder. Her eyes were open but she wasn’t seeing anything. She’d been staring at the same spot on the wall for at least an hour probably going through all the worst-case scenarios in her head just like I was. Or, just as likely, she was reliving that moment where she came down the stairs to find me working on her father.

  Liz was on her feet pacing back and forth down the hallway. Keith was sipping his third coffee. The caffeine wasn’t helping his nerves, but I wasn’t about to tell him so. He’d managed to get Kim and their mother to eat a little bit more as the hours passed and that was all I cared about. He glanced up every now and then and offered me a wary, tight-lipped smile that I tried and failed to return.

  I hadn’t felt this way since my own father died.

  The similarities were too close for me not to feel like this would end exactly the same way that night had: in death.

  Sitting here in the mint chairs surrounded by the rush of nurses’ and doctors’ scrubs as they bustled by brought me right back to that night. I’d only been sixteen. A police cruiser was sent to pick me up from my home a half hour past midnight and twenty-eight minutes after my father drove headfirst into an oak tree on the corner of First and Second. To this day I still avoided that intersection.

  The knocking on the door had been persistent enough to get me out of bed. In nothing but my pajama bottoms I padded down the hall and looked through the peephole to find two police officers in uniform standing on the front step of our house. They looked solemn. Immediately I knew something was wrong. I’d unlocked the door, pulled it open, and stood there in stony silence as they told me to get dressed. They drove me to the hospital and brought me to a hallway much like the one I was in now, where I sat for an hour and fifteen minutes while my father was worked on.

  I had no other family. No aunts, uncles, cousins. Nobody.

  So I was alone when the doctor came out and told me my father was dead. I was alone when they asked if I wanted to come in and see him. I was alone when I realized everything I knew had just changed forever.

  It never occurred to me to call someone in that moment. My mind was consumed with grief and it took coaching from one of the nurses to pull out my phone and call someone. She’d taken it from me and gone to my recent call log, where Keith’s name showed up a dozen times over.

  She told me to call my friend.

  I did.

  Twenty minutes later Keith was there with Roger and ever since that moment they’d saved me over and over.

  Roger deserved better than this. My pain and fear morphed into anger at the woman who’d driven through the living room that morning. I wondered why and how it had happened. Had she been drinking, just like my father had? Had she fallen asleep behind the wheel? I needed an explanation before I could wrap my head around moving past this, and I was sure the others felt exactly the same way.

  I lost track of how long I’d been spiraling in my own thoughts. When a doctor came down the hall and stopped in front of Liz, I looked up. Kim and Keith stood and I followed, hanging back as they all converged around the doctor, who clasped his hands together and looked at all the family members with warm, albeit tired eyes.

  “Mrs. Renwick?” the doctor asked. He had a smooth voice and a calm demeanor. He was clean shaven, probably in his forties, and bald.

  “Yes,” Liz said shakily.

  “I’m Dr. Irving. Your husband’s surgery was successful.” Dr. Irving paused and waited for the relief that washed over all of us.

  Kim hugged her mother. Liz sobbed into her hands. Keith reached back and grabbed me, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and shook me hard like we’d just won the Stanley Cup together.

  Dr. Irving smiled. Clearly, this was one part of his job that didn’t bring him pain. “Yes. It’s all very good news. He’s been in recovery for half an hour now being monitored by two nurses. He’s been breathing on his own and will be moved to his own room within the next fifteen minutes or so. A nurse will come get you and you can all visit him. He won’t be awake for several hours yet, so don’t worry yourselves over that. Rest right now is crucial.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Liz breathed, holding out her hand. Dr. Irving shook it. “Were there any complica
tions? Anything I should know about?”

  Dr. Irving’s lips pursed. “There are things we can discuss when your husband wakes up. But it is important to know we did lose him on the table three times during surgery. I know how bad that sounds, but we are confident he is out of the woods now. He needed a blood transfusion. The internal bleeding and damage was severe but not irreparable. Whoever among you performed CPR on him immediately after the accident most certainly saved his life.”

  All heads turned to me.

  The doctor smiled at me. “Well done, son. Mr. Renwick has you to thank.”

  I didn’t say anything, but I caught Kim smiling at me. She reached back and took my hand. Then she turned back to the doctor. “A nurse will come to bring us to him, you said?”

  Dr. Irving nodded. “Yes. Sit tight. I’ll see if I can hurry the process along for you. I know you’re eager to see him.”

  “Thank you,” everyone said in unison.

  After Dr. Irving left, the family converged on each other for hugs. Kim pulled me in like I was one of them and I found myself wrapped up in their arms. Liz offered a soft prayer before kissing the tops of all our heads and I let myself revel in the love and relief of the moment.

  I’d never felt anything like it before.

  The minutes between learning that Roger was going to be all right and actually getting to his room passed quickly. More food was purchased from vending machines and settled stomachs were finally able to eat something. Outside his private room, I stopped. Liz and Keith went in and Kim turned to me, a frown pressed into her lips.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  This didn’t feel like my place. “You guys go first and have some time with him. I’ll come in after.”

  Kim shook her head and grabbed my hand. “Don’t be silly.”

  She pulled me into the room. We were greeted by beeping heart rate monitors and machines. Roger lay upon his hospital bed draped in white blankets with an IV drip over his right shoulder. Sunlight streamed into the room, landing on his feet. A nurse popped in to check on him and told us to take our time.

  Everyone found a chair and settled in to sit near Roger as he slept. Liz took her husband’s hand and pressed her forehead to it. She didn’t move for some time. Roger’s children put hands on his shoulders and offered words of encouragement to him to let him know they were there.

  I sat by the end of his bed and stared into the pale face of the man I respected and loved more than anyone on this earth. It had just taken nearly losing him to realize it.

  We stayed at the hospital until Roger woke around six in the evening. But he was groggy. Not much of anything made sense to him, but he smiled at his children, who cried over him. He promptly fell back asleep and Liz told everyone to head home for the night two hours later. We were all exhausted and she decided to stay at the hospital with her husband.

  I offered to drive Kim home. She agreed. She and I parted ways with Keith in the parking lot and got into the family car, which had two parking tickets on it. I tucked them into my pocket to pay later. Leaving Roger to top up my parking meter had not been a priority.

  By the time we got back to the Renwick house, it was close to ten o’clock at night. The insurance team had been called at some point during the day and tarped up the house to seal the living room and cover the gaping hole. Kim unlocked the front door and we stepped inside, finding that all the rubble had been cleaned up.

  So had the blood on the hardwood floors. I was grateful for that. I didn’t want to see more of it—or have Kim have to see it either. It still stained my clothes. I was pretty sure it was in my hair, too. I’d run my fingers through it enough times to leave red streaks.

  Kim locked the front door and slumped against it. “God. I need a shower.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You can go first,” she offered.

  I shook my head. There was no way I was going to make her wait to have a shower. She needed to scrub the grime of the day off her skin and there was only one shower in the Renwick house. The downstairs bathroom was only a half bath with a sink and toilet. “No. You go ahead. I have some calls to make to the team anyway.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked. Her eyes flicked to my hair, confirming my suspicion that there was still some of Roger’s blood on me.

  “I’m sure. Go ahead.”

  Kim made her way upstairs and into the bathroom. I heard her start the shower as I climbed up the staircase and stepped into my room. I didn’t sit down. I was worried about getting blood on things. I stood stone still in the middle of the room with my arms hanging slack by my sides and waited for Kim to start singing like she always did.

  She didn’t.

  I willed her to hurry. The blood was driving me crazy.

  17

  Kimberly

  Usually my evening showers were my favorite part of the day. But not tonight. Tonight my shower felt like it cost me something. And that something was energy.

  My body felt heavy with fatigue. Every step from the bathroom to my bedroom felt like a thousand. I towel dried my hair while William went into the bathroom after me. I listened to the water slapping against the shower floor and wondered how vigorously he was scrubbing himself.

  Probably to the point of pain, I thought.

  I dropped my towel and changed into my most comfortable pajamas. They were flannel and covered in hockey sticks and Canadian maple leaves. My father had bought them for me when he went to Toronto last year to visit an old friend for his wife’s funeral. I pinched the fabric between my thumb and forefinger and rolled it, thinking about my dad and how just this morning I’d been so sure I’d lost him.

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

  No more crying.

  My throat ached. My eyes were swollen and my nose congested and the thought of any more tears made me want to curl into the fetal position. There was a sharp, aching pain at both my temples and I knew more crying would only make the headache worse. I needed sleep. Everything would be better with sleep.

  My bed looked entirely uninviting.

  I eyed it; the navy bedding and fluffy pillows were usually such a nice thing to fall into at the end of a long day. But it looked so lonely. So cold.

  I didn’t want to be alone right now. Thank God William had come home with me, otherwise I’d have stayed at the hospital with my folks or asked Keith if I could sleep on his sofa.

  The shower turned off.

  I strained my ears and listened as the shower door slid on its tracks and I imagined William was drying off. I wondered what turbulent thoughts he was having. I wondered if he was okay.

  He’d pulled my dad out from under a car only twelve hours ago. He’d performed CPR. He’d kept his cool while the rest of us were being ripped apart at the seams and even though I was sure he was going to break in the bathroom in the hospital while I washed his hands, he held it together. Somehow he hadn’t given in to any of the panic.

  I couldn’t help but be curious what he was doing now that he was alone.

  Did he cry in the shower, like I had?

  Was he inspecting his towel as he dried off to make sure no blood came away that he’d missed, like I had?

  Maybe.

  The bathroom door opened with a soft click. I listened to him pad silently down the hallway and slip into his bedroom beside mine. And I waited. I waited until I was positive he’d probably gotten dressed, and then I slipped out of my room and went to his bedroom door.

  It was open about three inches. I peered in through the crack and spotted him with his back to me. He was naked.

  Oops.

  I pulled back and hid myself behind the door.

  Why are you peeping on him, Kim? I thought sharply. I should leave him be. I should give him space. I should—

  I couldn’t help myself. I peered around the door again. My eyes immediately fell on his bare ass and I stared until it disappeared when he pulled on a pair of sweats. Then I let my gaze rake up his musc
ular back. Every muscle flexed as he picked up a T-shirt and lifted it over his head. His shoulder blades pinched together in the most delicious of ways, and as I watched his incredible body I was able to, if just for a moment, forget about the worries and stress of the day.

  Once he had his clothes on I stepped back and knocked on his door.

  “Come in,” William called. I pushed the door open. It creaked softly and revealed William, who had turned to face me. His hair was a dishevelled wet mess atop his head and his face was red from the hot shower. He smiled for the first time all day. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  Why are you lying?

  Frowning, I looked down at my feet and shook my head. “No.”

  William moved toward me. His feet were bare and silent on the dark gray rug covering the hardwood floors. He reached out and put his hands on my upper arms, and then rubbed gently like he was trying to warm me up. “It’s okay.”

  My bottom lip trembled.

  Damn it. Keep it together, Kim.

  “I just…” I trailed off. I didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say. I could hardly process how I was supposed to feel. The fear was still there. The aftermath of the destruction still sat in my muscles, pulling them tight. I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t think he would… he would…”

  “I know,” William said softly. “I didn’t either.”

  I swallowed hard to try to chase the tears away. It wasn’t working. They built and built until one escaped and I wiped it away, wishing William didn’t have to see me crumble again.

  He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. Desperate, I hugged him back fiercely. I buried my face in his shirt and sobbed hard into him. He smelled like his body wash: citrus and pine. He hugged me tighter and my fingers curled into fists in the back of his shirt as I held on for dear life.