Sunkissed (15 page)

The after party was held at Blue Crush, a restaurant and wine bar adjacent to the theatre. A special kids buffet table was set up with mac-n-cheese, chicken tenders, hamburger sliders, cookies, and an ice cream bar. For the adults, waiters passed around heavy hors d’oeuvre and champagne.

Trista wanted to talk to Riker and warn him about Nicolette, but she couldn’t get away from the crowd of people. Every child’s parent had come up to her and congratulated her on the success of the play. It seemed all of the locals who lived in and around Blue Mountain Beach had turned out for the play. And they all wanted to talk to Trista.

Michelle had pulled her aside and told her this was the most successful play the theatre had every done. “In ten years of its existence we have never made this much money. We had a full house tonight and tomorrow’s matinee is also sold out. Donations were through the roof! We’ve raised over three hundred thousand dollars!” Michelle was ecstatic. “Do you know what that will pay for? New costumes, materials for the sets, a field trip to New York for the kids!”

“I’m just glad I could be a part of it,” Trista said sincerely.

“I know you just got offered that job in New York, but we would love to have you next year. If you’re free.”

“We’ll see about that.” Trista gave her a smile. “I promise.” She looked around the crowded restaurant for Riker. She almost gave up when she spotted him at the bar, talking to another guy who’d helped with the sets. “Excuse me, Michelle. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Michelle followed her gaze to the bar. She gave Trista a pat on the back. “Good luck, hon.”

Trista weaved her way through the crowd, occasionally stopping to say hello to people who grabbed her arm. She stopped for photographs and signed autographs. By the time she reached the bar, Riker was gone.

“Hey, Gary,” Trista said, approaching the guy Riker had been talking to. “Great job tonight.”

“Thank you.” Gary downed whatever he was drinking. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Actually I was looking for Riker. Do you know where he went?”

“Men’s room, I think.”

Trista thanked him and then headed toward the men’s room. She wanted to catch him before he left. After tomorrow’s matinee, she had a flight to New York, and there wouldn’t be another time to say goodbye. She hated the way she’d left things with him. As soon as she spotted him coming out the bathroom, she grabbed his arm. “Let’s talk.”

“I don’t think there is anything left to say.” Riker pulled away, putting his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Please.”

“All right. But not in here. Let’s walk outside.”

Trista followed him outside. He led her across the street to the pathway down the beach. Taking off their shoes, they plunged into the soft, white sand. A group of teenagers were having a bonfire, all gathered around a guy with a guitar. Riker led Trista in the opposite direction toward a group of sand dunes. They sat down at the edge of the dunes.

“I’m sorry,” Trista started. “I know I shouldn’t have lied to you about New York. I really didn’t think I would get the job. I know that is no excuse, but I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. I thought I would just fly up there, read for the part, and come back home. I wasn’t expecting anything to come out of it.”

“Is this what you want, Trista? You want to live in New York?”

She looked at the moon and the cloudless sky, stars sparkling brightly like diamonds. The reflection of the moon hit the water like it was shining a path to the end of the world.

“I think I do. I realized when I went up there how much I really missed the place. The energy. The fast pace. The excitement. Most of all, I realized I missed working on a stage. A real Broadway stage. The live performances. Everything.”

Riker brought his knees up and rested his elbows on them. “I could see that tonight. The way you were with the kids. The excitement in your eyes during the play. You really enjoy doing this.”

“I do. I really do.”

He put her hand in his and squeezed. “I love you, Trista Carmichael. I want you to be happy.”

“Would you go to New York with me?” She loved the way Riker’s strong hand held hers. “I know you love the beach as much as I love the city. And I know how much you want to buy The Bar, but—”

“I love you more than The Bar.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I might be willing to give New York a try.”

She scooted over until she was practically sitting in his lap. She nuzzled her head on his shoulders. “I love you, James Riker.”

“What about your sister? We can’t put off telling her anymore.”

“She already knows.” Trista told him about the argument she had with Nicolette before the play.

“I knew something must’ve gone wrong when I saw Nic practically run off the stage. I’m sorry I wasn’t with you happened,” Riker said.

Trista thought back to her conversation with her father. “I can’t keep worrying about my sister and what she thinks of me. I have to live my own life.”

“I didn’t see Nicolette after the play.”

“I don’t think she stayed around for it. Her seat was empty the entire the time.”

Riker checked his watch. “It’s getting late. Let’s go say our goodbyes at the restaurant. Then we can go back to your place.”

“My dad and Madeline are at the house. They went straight home after the play was over. I think Dad was worried about Nicolette.”

“Then my place it is.” He helped her up. “At least we’ll have one night together before you leave.”

“Last night ended in a way I would’ve never expected,” Trista said, snuggling with Riker.

“Why do you say that?”

“I didn’t think you were ever going to speak to me again.”

“It was a lonely trip back from the Keys. I realized as soon as I woke up that morning and found your note that I couldn’t let you leave Blue Mountain Beach without me. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me back.”

Trista smiled. “Do you think you’ll like living in a big city?”

“I’ve been to New York before, but I never imagined myself living in a big city. But then again, I never thought I would hook up with a movie star either!”

Trista laughed and punched him on the arm. “Hook up, huh?”

“Best hook up in my life.”

“I bet.”

“Now I just need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do for job.”

“There are a lot of bars in the city.”

“I wasn’t thinking of bartending.”

“What else? Construction?”

“I really enjoyed working with the children’s theatre. Maybe I can find something like that?” He shrugged.

She lifted her head off the pillow. “Actually that’s a great idea. I’m sure I can help find you something.”

“What time is your flight again?” He looked at the alarm clock resting on his nightstand. “It’s almost six now.”

“I’m catching the last plane out. Not until eight tonight.”

“I’ll let you get settled before I come up for my first visit. Then I’m going to have to work through spring break and get someone else trained before summer.” Riker caressed her face. “Until that’s all settled, I’ll come for lots of visits.”

Trista reached for her cell phone, realizing that the battery had died sometime in the middle of the night. “Mind if I use your charger?” She plugged in her iPhone and waited for it to charge up.

“I’ll make us some coffee.” Riker got out of bed. “And breakfast. Then we can go back to your place if you’d like some help packing. We have time before today’s matinee.”

“That sounds wonderful. I told Dad that I would spend the rest of the day with him before I left.”

“Is he going to be sticking around for a while?”

“I think so. He’s planning on handing over the company reins to Nicolette. After that, he and Madeline will probably start cruising the world again.”

“I’m sure that’ll be good for him,” he said and headed toward the kitchen.

Trista used the bathroom to freshen up. She splashed cool water on her face and did the toothpaste-and-finger routine to brush the yuckies from her mouth. Just as she was pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she heard the familiar pings of her voicemail. She realized that she hadn’t called Quinn back yet. The message was probably from her.

Picking up her phone, she noticed several missed calls and texts from her father last night—all before her phone had died. She read the first one, her body filling with icy dread.

CALL ME ASAP. NICOLETTE IN AN ACCIDENT.

TRISTA CALL US. MADELINE.

CALL IMMEDIATELY.

Trista grabbed her purse and headed for the front door. “I gotta go!” she shouted as she passed by the kitchen. Riker was standing at the coffee pot pouring the caffeinated liquid into mugs.

“Wait! Trista! What’s wrong?” He dropped the mugs and ran to the front door.

“It’s Nicolette. She’s been in accident.” Trista put the phone up to her ear and waited for her dad to answer.

“Wait! Don’t go anywhere. I’ll drive you. Just give me a sec to throw on some pants.” He sprinted to his room.

The call went straight to voicemail. Trista hung up and redialed. She cursed when it happened again. “Hurry!” she shouted from the door.

Thirty seconds later, Riker was in her car driving them to the hospital. Trista called Our Sacred Lady Hospital and asked the receptionist if her sister had been admitted. While she waited for an answer, Riker drove quickly through the deserted streets. “If she was in an accident, that’s where she would be,” Riker told her. “It’s the only hospital in the area that has an ER and a trauma center.”

Trista heart pounded, and she felt like she was going to come out of her skin. She wondered what had happened to her sister.

Finally her dad beeped in while she was waiting for the hospital receptionist to come back on the line. “Dad!” she answered the call.

“Nicolette was in an accident. She’s in ICU at Our Sacred Lady. Do you know where that is?” Sam asked breathlessly.

“Of course. We are on the way! What happened?”

“We don’t know all the details. She was driving near Inlet Beach, and her car went off the road and crashed into a parked car.” Her dad paused for a second. “Trista, they don’t think she’s going to make it.”

Riker pulled into the hospital parking lot just as she got off the phone with her Dad. He dropped her off at the main entrance while he parked. She ran inside the hospital lobby and to the elevators. Madeline met her at the third-floor lobby.

Madeline hugged her and said, “I’m so sorry, baby. Your sister is hanging in there.” She led Trista down the corridor to a waiting area.

“Can I see her?” Trista asked. A lump had formed in her throat, making it difficult for her to speak.

“She’s in ICU, honey. They aren’t allowing anyone back there right now.” They stopped outside the locked doors and pushed a buzzer. “We have to wait for a nurse to let us back in.” A couple minutes later, a nurse who was familiar with Madeline let them in. They walked to a room labeled FAMILY WAITING AREA. It was a spacious room with several leather lounge chairs and recliners. There was only one other family in the room, and they were huddled by a coffeemaker. An older woman with the group was sobbing uncontrollably while the others comforted her.

Sam was pacing by the vending machines. When he saw Trista, he rushed toward her. Trista hugged her father. “Dad, what happened?”

“They think she might have fallen asleep at the wheel. She was going pretty fast when she hit the parked car.”

“When did this happen?”

“Around midnight. A tourist found the car and called 9-1-1.”

“Can I see her?”

“Not yet. The doctors are with her now. She has severe head trauma. Swelling of the brain. The doctors said she doesn’t look good.”

“He doesn’t know Nicolette,” Trista said.

Her father smiled weakly. “You’re right. He doesn’t know that she’s made of steel. Where is Riker?”

Trista said, “Crap. I forgot. He dropped me off before he parked the car. Madeline, can you go get him?”

She nodded and headed back downstairs.

As soon as she left, a doctor stood in the doorway. “Mr. Ricci?” he called out. They walked over to the doctor.

“This is my other daughter, Trista,” Sam said.

If the doctor recognized Trista, he didn’t say anything. He nodded and continued, “Nicolette is heavily sedated. Her most recent scan still shows significant swelling of the brain. We need to keep her as comfortable as possible.”

“How long will she need to be sedated?” Sam asked.

The doctor looked between him and Trista. “With the type of injuries that Nicolette has sustained, there’s really no telling. I’m sorry I can’t be more precise. Brain injuries are tricky. Some people pull out of it quickly with no subsequent problems, while others…they may never fully recover. I wish I had better news.”

“Does she have any other injuries?” Trista asked. “I mean, other than the brain swelling?”

“Nothing life threatening. A couple of broken fingers and minor burns, likely from when the airbag deployed. The swelling is our only concern right now.” The doctor patted Trista on the arm before shaking Sam’s hand. “We’ll take good care of Nicolette. The nurses will escort you to see her for a few minutes. Remember, though, she needs her rest. Family visits only for now.”

Trista followed her dad to the ICU nurse’s station. Protocol demanded they wash their hands and put on antibacterial gel before entering Nicolette’s room. There was a nurse standing next to Nicolette’s bed, changing out one of the IV bags. Before she left, the nurse said to them, “Some doctors think that people who are in comas can hear what people are saying around them. Positive thoughts and messages can go a long way.” She smiled and left them alone with Nicolette.

Sam grabbed Trista’s hand, and warned her. “She’s wrapped in a lot of bandages. Nicolette doesn’t look like herself.”

Trista squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Dad.”

Despite her father’s warning, Trista let out a small gasp at the sight of her sister. Tubes and wires snaked in and around Nicolette’s body. Her face—what little could be seen—was covered with angry purple bruises. There was a white bandage surrounding her head. An IV pump had three bags of different meds slowly dripping into her fragile body.

Trista reached out and gently took her sister’s hand in her own. She looked at her dad, who was standing on the other side of the bed, with uncertainty.

“Go ahead, honey. She needs to hear encouraging words from us.” Sam gently pushed her toward the hospital bed, saying in Italian, “Dille che ama (
Tell her that you love her
).”

For once, Trista was at a loss for words. She blew out a breath before beginning. “Hey, Nicolette. It’s me, Trista. I want you to know that I love you, and I need you to get better. I know we’ve had our differences, but I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re strong, and I know that you’ll pull through this.” Trista couldn’t help the tears that started to fall freely down her face. “Cuz if you don’t wake up soon I’m going to have to furnish and decorate your new house all by myself. And I know how much you hate my sense of style.” She leaned over and kissed her sister on the one bare spot on her cheek that wasn’t covered in bandages.

Trista then stood by the window while her father whispered a few things in Nicolette’s ear. The same nurse came by and told them that their time was up. When they got back to the waiting room, Madeline was back with Riker. Trista fell into his arms, and they hugged for what seemed like hours.

For two days, Trista stayed in the ICU waiting room with her dad, Madeline, and Riker. They took shifts eating, sleeping, and taking showers. Visits were limited to ten minutes, a few times a day. Trista used her time with Nicolette to read to her the daily real estate reports, which she knew her sister read faithfully every morning, and telling her to get her ass out of bed and get better. The rest of the time Trista silently blamed herself for Nicolette’s accident. She went over the last conversation she’d had with Nicolette at the children’s theatre and how her relationship with Riker may have ruined any chance of reconciliation with her sister. Trista kept these thoughts to herself, and every time Riker tried to talk to her, she shut him out. Until one morning something inside of her just broke.

“I can’t keep going like this, Riker.” Trista pushed scrambled eggs around the plate with her plastic spork. The cafeteria food in the hospital was surprisingly good, but no one seemed to have much of an appetite.

He looked up surprised. Trista hadn’t said much in the days following her sister’s accident. “What do you mean?”

“This is not going to work. I need to be here for my sister. Even if she pulls out of it, we have a long hard road ahead.”

“We can do this together.” Riker reached for her hand. “I love you and—”

Trista pulled her hand away and interrupted him. “No, we can’t. I’m responsible for my sister’s accident. She’s in that room because of me. Because of what we did. If…when wakes up, then I need to be there for her. And I can’t do that if you and I are still seeing each other. ” She stirred a pack of sugar into her coffee, not meeting his eye. “I’m afraid I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Riker asked. “Love is not like a light switch. You can’t just turn it on and off. Either you love me or you don’t.”

“I do love you, Riker. But I don’t think this is the right time for us. My family needs me now. It’s time we said goodbye.”

He scooted his chair back, standing up. “I’m not going to fight you on this, Trista. I know you need some time. I get that.” He came around to her side and kissed her on the top of her head. “You know that I will always be here for you. Always.”

She looked up from her coffee and watched the love of her life walk out of the hospital cafeteria.