Clarity 4: After the Storm (4 page)

It's been too much for me.

Starting my car to get some heat in the
vehicle, I reach over to turn the seat warmers back on. My hope is
that the warmth will help to comfort Snowball and make her feel
less anxious and afraid. She settles down on the leather cushion
with a whimper, and I reach to the side to stroke her fur with one
hand as I attach my seat belt with the other.

“Looks like I've got one final phone call to
make, girl,” I tell her softly. “I've got to tell Helen's family
what happened. Especially her asshole of a father.” Sitting back in
the driver's seat, I mentally prepare for this conversation. I know
that the Winters family is dealing with another tragedy at the
moment. Before Helen crashed, she managed to explain to me that she
had stopped by her home. The visit must have had a profound effect
on her psychotic brother-in-law, because the bastard hung
himself.

It wasn’t
just
me that upset her. It
was also
him
. Not that this is any consolation.

I have despised Grayson from the moment I
met him, but there is no use in feeling hatred any longer. He’s
gone. He’s no longer a threat to us.

But he certainly caused enough damage while
he was still around.

I have a bad feeling he will continue to
cause damage long after he’s gone. A man like that is a menace to
society, and only leaves behind a legacy of pain.

I know that Helen's sister loved her
husband. I know that Mr. Winters adored Grayson as a son-in-law. I
know that the family has already suffered a great blow at his loss,
in addition to their previous losses, and I don't know how to tell
them about this additional heartache. I am staring down at the
phone in my hand and trying to gather the courage to make the phone
call when a hospital staff member taps on the glass window of my
car. I reach for the door to press the button to lower the
glass.

“You're the one who brought in the young
woman in her 20s? Please come inside so that we can ask you some
questions. The patient is in critical condition and she might not
have much longer to live. We need to notify her next of kin.”

A lump of fear forms in my throat. “Okay,” I
tell the nurse, turning off my car and stepping out of the vehicle.
I shut the door and walk briskly toward the hospital entrance.
“What can you tell me about her condition?”

“Actually, you're not allowed to park your
car here. It blocks the emergency—”

“I don't fucking care. How is my
girlfriend?”

The nurse gives me a sympathetic look. “Come
with me.”

Sitting with my head in my hands in the
hospital waiting room, I try to gather enough courage to call
Helen’s father. What will I say to him? How can I tell him what has
happened to his daughter? As I mull over these thoughts, it occurs
to me that it’s partly his fault. It’s his fault just as much as it
is mine.

I know that the old man is probably going to
blame himself, but I am having trouble caring. Part of me despises
him a little for the way he has manipulated me over the past few
months.

At the same time, he is still Helen's
father. I know that he did everything he did out of love for her. I
know that the poor man lost his wife, and that he is only trying to
do everything in his power to avoid losing his daughters as well. I
suppose I understand his situation, because it was ironically the
very actions that he took to keep Helen close that ended up pushing
her away in the end. It is those very actions that could have
potentially ended her life, in a very similar manner to the way her
mother's life ended.

The poor old fool. I don't know what I'm
going to tell him. In some ways, he reminds me of my own father.
Prickly and cruel on the surface, but with a good heart at his very
core. I know that my father only pushed me so hard because he
wanted what was best for me. I know that he didn't really
understand the damage that he caused me over the years.

I only hope that Mr. Winters can handle this
news, considering his failing health. But I suppose it's better
coming directly from me than from the hospital's administrative
staff. Swallowing a lump of emotion, I bite the bullet and call the
old man. Even though it's early in the morning, he answers the
phone quite quickly.

"Hello, Liam?" he says in a surprised
voice.

"Mr. Winters, sir. I'm calling about
Helen..."

"Liam, son, please let me apologize first.
I'm so sorry about everything I said yesterday. I don't know what
came over me. I know this won't make up for the cruel things I
said, but I have written you a glowing recommendation and already
emailed it to the supervisor."

"Thank you, sir," I say softly, "but this
isn't about—"

"No, hear me out,” Mr. Winters says quietly.
“I was completely out of line. I guess I just really wanted to see
my baby girl again." He seems choked up, and he clears his throat.
"Anyway, Liam, you are a very skilled and dedicated doctor. If
anyone deserves that grant, it's you. I meant every word of that
recommendation, and I wish you only the best."

These are nice words, but I can't bring
myself to care about my career at the moment. "I appreciate that,
sir, but I'm calling because..."

"Why do you insist on calling me
sir
,
Liam? You can call me Richard, son."

Taking a very deep, shuddering breath, I
clench my eyes together tightly. My own father insisted that I only
call him 'sir' because the word 'dad' was too intimate for him. He
thought that 'sir' commanded more respect and obedience. "Richard,"
I say awkwardly. "Your daughter came to visit me at work yesterday
and she overheard our phone conversation. She got upset and decided
to visit your house before driving off to Pennsylvania.
Unfortunately, she ran into Grayson, and—well, he did something
very upsetting. She left and tried to run away from the city, but
there happened to be a serious thunderstorm--"

"What are you saying?" Mr. Winters asks, and
his voice is incredulous.

"Helen's vision faltered and she drove her
car off a cliff," I explain hesitantly. "She is in critical
condition right now, and I think you should come to visit her as
soon as you can. They won't let me in to see her because I'm not
family. But from what little they've told me, they're not sure if
she's going to survive more than a couple hours."

There is a long silence on the other end of
the line as Mr. Winters absorbs this information.

"Liam," he says finally, and it sounds like
he has aged ten years. "Do you know that Grayson killed himself
last night?"

"Yes, sir."

"My eldest daughter has just lost her
husband, and the father of her unborn child. And now you tell me
that my youngest daughter is injured? If this is some kind of game
to get back at me for the ultimatums I gave you, I need you to
understand that I really can't handle this additional stress right
now. I deserve your hatred, Liam, but I can’t take it."

"Sir—I mean Richard—please know that I do
not hate you. I wish that I didn't have to make this phone call.
I'm so sorry. I am responsible for hurting your daughter so much
that she wanted to get away from me, and I'll never forgive
myself."

"Nonsense, boy," Mr. Winters says softly. "I
asked you to hurt her, so that she'd come running home to me. I
never considered that she would want to run away from all of us,
but I should have known. That's my Helen—my brave little bird. No
one could ever keep her caged up for very long."

"I'll text you the address, sir. I hope
you'll be able to get here in time...I'll do everything I can to
make sure that she lives. Which isn't much at the moment, since
they won't even let me see her."

"Just pray for her, son. Maybe God will
listen to the prayers of a man in love." The old man sighs deeply.
"I'll get Carmen, and we'll be there as soon as we can. Text me the
address."

When he hangs up the phone, I find myself
staring blankly into space. It takes me a moment before I am able
to send him the hospital's address, for I am so caught up in
thinking about what he said about love. And praying. And God.

It's times like these, I suppose, when we
all remember our religion.

I remember what Grayson told Helen, over and
over—the words that grated on her nerves more than anything
else.

He called her an angel.

Well, I certainly hope not. I like my
girlfriend being a human woman, made from flesh and blood. I am not
ready to surrender her to heaven just yet.

At least not for a few decades. Hopefully,
not during my lifetime.

When I hear the squeak of running shoes on
linoleum, I look up expectantly. My body is filled with a rush of
relief when I see Owen strolling in with a leather jacket and pink
scarf. The smile on his face is filled with kindness and strength,
and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the certainty that things are
going to be okay. Tears prick the back of my eyes as I stand up to
grab Owen in a big manly hug.

“It’s just a bad day, buddy,” Owen assures
me as he claps his hand against my back. “It’ll be over soon, and
things will be hunky-dory again. I’ll soon be teasing Winter about
that time she got mad at you and drove off a mountain to make a
statement. It’ll be hilarious.”

“Thanks,” I tell him, fighting back my
tears. “How the hell did you get here so fast?”

“I just ignored all those signs with numbers
at the side of the road. I had to flirt my way out of a speeding
ticket, but it was worth it.”

“Owen,” I say quietly. “You don’t have to
tell stories to cheer me up. I’m just glad you’re here.”

“I swear that I’m not shitting you! It was
this chubby lady-cop who pulled me over, and she
definitely
appreciated my flirting. She let me off with only a warning, and
also gave me her phone number. If Winter is still determined to
dump you, maybe I could try to set you up with the chubby cop?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to win her back.”

“Sure, sure,” Owen says, lifting his
eyebrows. “I guarantee that will only work if she’s hit her head
really
hard.”

“She has,” I tell him quietly.

“Aw, shucks. Well, then maybe she’ll have
lost enough brain cells to find you attractive!”

“That’s not funny,” I tell him softly, but
he manages to make me smile anyway. I am so fucking glad he’s here.
I didn’t have a single family member I could call: the only person
in the world who truly feels like family is lying comatose in a
hospital bed they won’t let me near. I could have called my father,
but he would have been a prick and made it worse. My mother is so
withdrawn and distant that she doesn’t give a shit about anything
that’s going on around her. Everyone else is too distant or dead to
care.

But Owen dropped everything to drive here
and support me.

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