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Authors: Brooklyn Taylor

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BOOK: BrokenHearted
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The thing about when you are young is you commit to stupid-ass things. You think anything is possible, that with “love,” anything can be done. Ha! Foolishness.

We told both of our parents together, and her father was thrilled and ready to help her in any way he could, even welcoming me into the family.

Mine, not so well. Mom tried to support me but was more concerned and sad by the opportunities this would steal from me.  Dad, on the other hand, lost it. We fought terribly, and we both said things that I know I would never forget. And from what Mom says, he wouldn’t either.

The sad thing was that I was going to take whatever I had to from my father just to be with Leah. I loved her, I trusted her, and I was willing to give her anything she wanted. To me, it would be worth it.

Some things my father said did not stick with me, well, most … but one thing I will always remember.

We were all set to leave town two days after graduation, and I had sat on the porch talking with my parents.

My mother was sad and emotional, and my father was already on his second whiskey. He never did well when he saw my mother upset. Hurting her was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Leaving tomorrow, Trevor?” he asked although he knew damn well I was.

“Yes …” I responded.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind or wake you up from this mistake you are making?” he sternly said.

I looked over at Mom and saw the fear in her eyes of where this was going to lead.

“I am not changing my mind. I love Leah. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Son … it is not the same love your mother and I have. This is not a relationship that is going to last for years and be filled with happiness and all you think it will be.”

“How do you know? Why are you so sure?” I snapped back.

“Because I am. A father knows these things.”

I grunted and folded my arms over my chest settling in to listen to what else he was going to say.

“Why are you so hell-bent on preventing this?”

“I don’t want you to ruin your life. There is still time to fix this … You can stay here, or you can go to whatever college you want … You can still make something of yourself.”

“I am making something of myself. I am going to be a father. I will find a job and make a good living. Just like you did. You made this place, so why can’t I make a place for myself.”

“Because I don’t trust this. I think something is going on, but I can’t pin it down.”

Mom spoke up. “Trevor, why do you have to leave? Can't you stay here and raise the baby so that we can see you and help you, so you can still—”

“No, Mom, this is our plan.”

“Whose plan?” Dad asked.

“OUR plan,” I confirmed.

“I just want you to know that your mother and I think you are making the biggest mistake of your life and are very disappointed … Ever since you met her, you don’t think of yourself. Of what you can do, of your dreams.”

“You mean your dreams?” I asked.

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You are upset and pissed I’m leaving because you wanted me to take over the stables. You wanted me to take over the family business and—”

“Yes, I had always hoped that, but even if you didn’t, I would be fine with that. I don’t want you throwing your life away for a whor—”

I knew whatever he said after that would no longer be heard.

I would regret that moment—that time when I could have said something. I could have said so many things, but I didn’t want to disrespect my father. To hear him say that about the girl I loved who was pregnant with my baby killed me. I would never forgive him.

“Son, that is not what he meant,” Mom said trying to do damage control.

I went to my truck and got in peeling out, trying to get away from my home. The place I had never been so lost at. And I needed to see Leah. I needed her to reassure me that we would be okay, and we were doing the right thing.

Four

Ryann

My aunt Jackie, one of the few people I had let in my life, is a big advocator for animal rights, specifically horses. She had spent her years rescuing and rehabilitating them. Jackie was a horse trainer and had worked her entire life on the land tending to them.  Her hands were rougher than most men, her skin the texture of leather. She had short brown hair that was under a cowboy hat at all hours and hardly ever styled. She wore zero makeup other than the ChapStick she kept in her pocket at all times. The only thing missing from her country boy mantra was tobacco in her lip.

She is a tough-ass woman, so I knew when Mom called me to meet them at St. Luke’s ER, something must have really been wrong.  And I was right. “I am here to see Jackie Payne,” I tell the clerk at the entrance to the emergency room.

“Are you family?” I kept myself from laughing. She clearly didn’t know my aunt because the only people who loved her were family. She wasn’t a “people” person.

“Yes, ma’am, I am her niece,” I respond.

“Come on back.” She buzzes the doors, and I follow them through and wait until I’m told where my aunt is.

“She’s in room four, the second one on the right-hand side.”

I walk in concerned about what I am going to find and come face to face with the last person I was planning to see.

Trevor. Trevor James is a doctor?

“Hi, Ryann.”

“Hi,” I respond shocked. One, that he was there, and two, that he remembered my name.

Mom’s eyebrows rose. “How do you know each other, Ry?”

I answer her. “This is Trevor. He came in with his friend Maxwell to Smith’s the other night.”

“Oh! They are the ones that Sad—”

“Yes, Mother.” I give her a look demanding that she shut up.

Trevor watches us talk and then gets back to business with a smile. I don’t know if it was a smile of curiosity or a smile of amusement. “I was just telling Ms. Payne, that her MRI looks fine surprisingly. The horse that kicked her did a good job, but fortunately—”

“I told the dumbasses I was fine. I’ve been kicked tons of times. He didn’t mean any harm.”

“That might be so, ma’am, but I agree that you should have it checked out. And a mild concussion is all that you have. But just because it has happened before doesn’t mean that you will be in the clear every time it happens. It can cause per—”

“Can I leave?” she asks sternly, not the least bit concerned about anything he has to say.

“I will get your discharge papers filled out and have the nurse bring them back in when I am done. Should be about ten minutes.”

She nodded her head.

“Ms. Payne, if you experience any of the symptoms listed on the sheet I am going to give you, I want to see you back here, or at the very least, let me know. I will write my cell number on the discharge sheet. Please consider taking this as serious as it really is.”

“I told you, this has happened a good handful of times and—”

“I understand that, and I can see that. The damage shows on your scan. You are at risk of develop—”

She relents and agrees. “I will do as you ask.” Under her breath, she mutters, “If it takes that for me to get the hell out of here. I have work to do.”

I look at her, ashamed at her mouth. Good God, this woman. Mom just rolls her eyes, as she’s used to her stubborn brazenness.

“Jackie, I just do not want …” he tells her concerned and hoping she understands the seriousness of the situation. He is looking at her heartfelt and actually being the advocate for his patient.

“10-4 Trevor. Now, go get my papers,” she sputters.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees.

I feel the need to make an excuse for my aunt and apologize for her words, not to mention her utter disregard for her health, so I follow him out the door.

“Trevor?”  He is standing at the nurse’s station advising them of what needs to be done. I freeze as I take in his good looks. His dark blond hair was cut short but styled, and his scrubs fit his body excellently.

“Yes?”

“I just want to apologize for my aunt’s actions. She is as stubborn as a goat—”

“Yeah, I got that. Do you have a minute?” he asks me.

“Yes.” My heart flutters a tad hearing him say these words.

He leads me over to a computer that was set up a little to the right of the nurse’s station. It is stationed on a tall rolling cart for mobility. He types Jackie’s last name and her date of birth and scans his card on the reader beside it.

“This is your aunt’s MRI.”

I look at him lost without saying a word only because I don’t have a clue what I am looking at. I watch him speak his medical lingo and can see how intelligent he is. His green eyes were perfectly shaped drawing me in. I had never seen such a beautiful green. His mouth moved  in a way that was very masculine, and I couldn’t help but stare at his jawline. His face had most likely never seen a pimple in his teen years because it was perfect. He hadn’t shaved in a day, and I could see the start of prickles. And I liked it. It added character.

He starts to run his pen over the areas of her brain, explaining the anatomy of the brain and what her scan showed. “This area right here is permanently damaged. It is fine for now, but as she ages, things will start to become apparent. Kind of like how you hear all the time about football players or boxers having permanent damage from tackles and punches … She might get over the symptoms now, and yes, she does have a mild concussion, but later—”

“Please don’t misunderstand. I am very thankful for your care and patience toward Jackie, but she doesn’t listen to anyone.”

He laughs. “Yeah I got that. I just wanted you to see the seriousness of it. Maybe get her to slow down a bit—”

“Ha. Yeah, right.” I smirk.

“Okay, well, at the very least, keep an eye on her when you are working together. And make sure she has my number with her. She might be fine for a long time to come … but she might not. The damage she has already is pretty extensive, but I know she is tough as nails.”

“Well put. I will certainly do what I can.” I stick my hand out to shake his and thank him. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I go back to Jackie’s temporary room with Mom as he goes back to the nurse’s station. He was talking to the nurses but had his body angled so he could still see me. I wonder if he is watching me?
I can only hope.

*****

“Ry, did you see how cute that doctor was?” Mom uses her sweet, Southern charm as she winks at me

“Yes, Mom. I told you I have met him before.”

“He is adorable. And so professional.”

Jackie snorts in the corner. “For God’s sake, Margaret, always pushing Ryann to find a man.”

“I am doing no such thing. I just want her to find a man who treasures her and treats her good.”

“She will do fine without a man just like us.”

“I do not want my baby lonely for the rest of her life. She can still have everything she wants and be cherished by a man.”

Jackie snorts.

“Mom, when and if the right man comes along, then it will be happen. But—”

“Jake.”

“One, this is not the time or place to discuss that. There isn’t anything to discuss regarding him anyway. I am one-hundred percent over him. A man running around on you and trying to take every inch of spirit does that to a girl. Two, even if I did find him attractive … that doesn’t mean he would me.”

“That is insane. You are beautiful, baby girl.” Mom smiles.

“Opinions vary.” I smirk, and Jackie laughs.

“Well, since he did such a good job with our stubborn goat here, make him one of your desserts. I think he would appreciate it. You are still baking, aren’t you?”

“Come on, Mother … You know I am still baking. Don’t play me for a fool.”

“I am doing no such thing. I just thought that a way to a man’s heart is always food.”

“And what if his heart is empty from being hurt like mine?”

“Nevertheless, when you bring him your homemade cobbler, he will forget all about his foolish heart.”

The nurse interrupts our game of mother knows best at the perfect time.

Thank God, I could have kissed her. I was just glad that Mom didn’t ask her why a “good looking guy like him wasn’t married.” Yep, she’s done that before. Talk about wanting to hide in a hole.

Two days later

Trevor

Today has been a slow day in the ER, which has been nice for a change. The downside is the time goes by slowly, and that bites. I had only had a few cases of the flu, one broken arm, one car accident, one patient I couldn’t revive, and then a diabetic.

I walk to the triage station to see if there is any hold up delaying the patients. When asking the nurse if we had any patients waiting who I could take back to get the rooms full, I hear a familiar voice.

“Hi. I’m actually not sick, just leaving something for a Dr. Trevor James. He treated my aunt, and my family wanted to thank him. Could I just leave this for him here?”

“Oh darlin’, you don’t ever want to leave food up here. We will eat it, and he’ll never see it.” I snarky smiled.  Ann may have been putting on a sweet display, but she was speaking the truth. Ann turned her chair around and told me that someone was here for me as if I couldn’t hear.

“I can hear, Ann.”

I knew who it was when she started talking, but I wanted to hear what she had to say before letting her know. Ryann’s voice was sweet and Southern with a light twang to it.

I hold my finger up, asking her to hold on for a minute, and then walk through the doors to meet her.

“Sorry to bother you at work, but my mother insisted I bring this up for you. She actually made it, so I can’t take credit for it.” I stare at her for a minute, getting a better look at her than I did at the hospital the other day and the night at Smith’s. She has dimples on both cheeks that call for attention when she smiles. Genuinely smiles. I doubt she’s ever faked an emotion in her life. She seems too pure, unique.

I open the box and smell the peach cobbler. And it smells delicious. I haven’t eaten since my shift started, which is the norm for me, but after smelling this, that might have to change.

“You know what goes great with peach cobbler?” I say.

“Ice cream.” She reaches into her bag and hands me a pint of ice cream. Homemade vanilla. “Glad you said something or else I would have forgotten.”

“Do you have time to sit with me and eat some?”

“No … I mean I can sit with you for about ten minutes, but I don’t want any.”

“Follow me back to the lounge,” I tell her. I start to walk back through the double doors, checking over my shoulder to make sure she is following me. I hardly recognize how it feels when a kind woman brings me something to thank me, even though I was just doing my job. She didn’t want anything in return and was simply giving.

After taking a seat at the circular table and grabbing plastic silverware out of the center of the table, I open the cobbler up, plopping a spoonful of ice cream on it before licking my lips.

She smiles, watching me as if I was a child enjoying it for the first time.

She looks around the room and watches me eat, waiting for me to start a conversation, so I did.

“How is Jackie?”

“As good as can be expected. Although, the woman could be dying and wouldn’t complain a bit.”

“That’s good to hear. Hopefully, it will stay that way,” I comment. “I hope so. Do you want some of the cobbler?” I ask.

“God, no.”

“You sure?” I put some on a fork and move it toward her lips. I watch her think about for a minute but then she opens up.

She finishes the bite as I watch and then thanks me. How can something that we all do look sexy when a woman does it, one particular woman that is. 

“That is really good!”

“Yeah …” I agree. I can see she seems nervous, but I am not really sure why. Maybe it is because we are alone. Maybe it is because she is attracted to me. Either way, damn … she is beautiful.

“Y’all busy tonight?”

“No … really slow actually.” But her being here suddenly make things better, not that I wanted to admit it to myself or to say it out loud. It has been a while since I felt truly attracted to a woman, and Ryann was someone my body wanted. I would even go so far as to say that my heart rate went up a bit in her presence. Another thing I wouldn’t admit to.

“I prefer to be busy so the time passes. I hate to be bored.”

“Me too,” I agreed.

She stands and announces that she has to leave.

“Thanks again for the cobbler. It really hit the spot.”

“You bet. Thanks for taking care of my aunt.”

 

 

BOOK: BrokenHearted
2.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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