Yearnings: A Paranormal Romance Box Set (59 page)

He was using that tone again, the concerned therapist rather than the injured fiancé. Come to think of it, had she ever heard him really injured?

Had she ever heard that pained tone like Tyr had used last night? Had she ever seen Richard struggle to express himself?

This wasn’t about last night, though, or even Tyr. It was about her needing to be alone. Her look was sympathetic, but her tone firm.

“
I need some alone time. To process. To grieve. I would think that if anyone would understand my desire, it would be you.”

Sal could see the annoyance on Richard’s face. She had just given him the type of situation he hated the most. A no-win scenario. He always encouraged her to speak her feelings and assert her needs. Richard couldn’t argue with her without violating his own advice. And Lord knew he didn’t want to be cast in any other light but considerate.

“
Fine.” The word came out way more terse than usual. She could see him cringe. Again, the shrug as he walked to the kitchen. “I guess if you’re paying the apartment’s rent, you might as well get some benefit out of it.”

“
Thanks for being so understanding,” she said sincerely.

But he didn’t answer, only a little wave over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway.

Sal ran her fingers through her hair. She thought that after telling Richard she had to be alone for a while, she would feel better. Liberated, or at the least relieved, but she wasn’t. Instead it just felt crappy to have wounded his ego like that. Had she lost the ability to make a right decision?

However, as she packed a few things in her overnight bag, her foul mood began to lift. She was sorry to hurt Richard, but her tiny, cramped apartment was sounding better and better. The toilet that needed an extra jiggle to flush. The bed with so many lumps that were perfectly molded to her body. It might not be much, but it was hers and hers alone.

Ready to go, she had only one decision left to make. Pink or green? For the briefest instant, Sal wondered if Praxis might be applied here. Could she will the shirt to change color into a muted gray or navy blue? Or was the more logical option just to throw on her sweat jacket and run into Marshall’s and buy something more appropriate?

“
I’d recommend the pink,” Richard suggested from the doorway.

Sal looked the thin fabric up and down. The pink ruffle down the middle seemed way over the top. “I don’t know. It doesn’t look at all ‘funeral-y.’”

“
No, but you can’t get more Hello Kitty than that.”

As he walked away, Sal realized that maybe Richard understood Maria more than she thought.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 51

Sal regretted her choice of heels as she ran down the street, flagging down the cable car. From the distinct, three long bell rings, two shorter notes, and then finishing off with a last warbling note, she knew that the car’s gripman was Lyle. Given that it was his seventh year running as the winner of the annual cable car bell-ringing contest, every stop was a musical interlude.

“
Top of the morning!” he shouted from the rear of the vehicle.

She waved hello as she stepped up onto the running board. An elderly couple scooted over on the bench. “There’s plenty of room.”

Sal smiled, but shook her head. “I’m good out here.”

As she gripped the handle, the car lurched forward and picked up speed as they descended Nob Hill. It was selfish, but Sal hoped there weren’t any more pickups. She loved the feel of the wind in her hair as the car sped down the steep California Street. Where else could you ride on the outside of a moving vehicle?

So unless it was pounding rain, and even sometimes then, Sal rode on the sideboard, letting the city pour over her. The tip of the Transamerica Pyramid peeking through the skyscrapers. The Bay glistening in snatches down the intersections. Each ride served as a reminder of why she loved this City so much.

How many times had she and Maria hopped on the first car passing by? They never planned where to have dinner. They just let the cable car sweep them away, and when something caught their eye, they’d hop off and try out a new place. It was how they found the best chicken satay on Powell.

Granted, it was also how they got food poisoning at the sushi restaurant on Market Street, but hey, you couldn’t win them all.

Under the cloudless morning with the city bustling, the last few days, and especially nights, seemed unreal. Then her shoulder wound twinged as the car braked. No matter the city’s pristine façade this summer day, the beast still lurked. Could he sense her out of the dozens packed into the cable car? Could he be stalking her as she blithely traveled the city?

Shivering in the warm summer sun, Sal shoved any thoughts of the beast from her mind. She had a single intent today—to honor her friend. The beast, the Park, and even Tyr paled in comparison.

Sal pulled down on the cord to signal to the gripman that she needed off. A single chime acknowledged her request. If only her life were so orderly. The car stopped as Sal hopped off, giving a wave to Lyle. The wind kicked up her pink ruffles. The material fluttered, as if recognizing a moment of joy and taking full advantage of it. As she walked down the street, preparing to eulogize her best friend, Sal couldn’t help but smile.

The pink blouse was definitely the right choice.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 52

Sal headed down the long corridor toward the chapel. It wasn’t like she’d never been to the room before, but she honestly couldn’t remember what it looked like. Once in a great while, she might have to find a family member down there, but usually the circumstances were so stressful that she didn’t have time to note the interior design.

Heels clicking on the tile floor, Sal found whatever goodwill she had gained on the cable car evaporating. The antiseptic smell that she normally found soothing bit into her nostrils. The recycled, conditioned air felt heavy and stale. After the refreshing breeze outside, this place was akin to a crypt.

Sal slowed. At the end of the corridor were two wooden doors that stood in stark contrast to the sterile wash of gray all around. Two small crosses were cut out of the doors, and warm light streamed from the chapel into the cooler fluorescent hallway.

There should be no reason, no reason at all, that she was reluctant to enter the chapel. Just the same, she found her hand resting on the doorknob, reluctant to turn it.

In all that had happened, it had become almost easy to forget that Maria was gone. Swept up in heart-pounding crisis after crisis, Sal could pretend her friend was still alive. To enter this chapel and give a eulogy proved exactly the opposite.

Maria would be gone. Forever.

Unfortunately, standing out in this clammy hallway couldn’t bring her friend back. Taking a deep sigh, Sal entered the chapel.

Oh dear God
, was all she could think.

Before her, the chapel was packed. Not just standing room only, but
crammed
. People stood along the wall. They sat on the small steps leading up to the dais. There wasn’t a square inch of the sanctuary that didn’t have a body filling it.

The room turned as a whole upon her entry. Smiles greeted her, but Sal could only feel panic. She had expected a good turnout, but this was unheard of. Sal couldn’t think of a single staff member who wasn’t in attendance. All three shifts. All seven days. All of them here. All of them looking to her to give voice to their grief.

The Badger had been standing at the pulpit, but stepped down. “I will turn this over to Dr. Calon.”

More because everyone expected it of her, rather than her wanting to, Sal walked up the narrow aisle. Paul caught her eye and gave a reassuring nod. But it didn’t feel like enough. Before she had felt a little overwhelmed at the prospect of trying to encapsulate all that Maria had meant to her in a few meager words, but now—in front of this sea of people? How could she ever hope to do right by her best friend?

The beige carpet muffled her footsteps as she mounted the steps to the dais. For the first time, Sal noticed the stained glass windows behind the pulpit. The sunlight streamed, fracturing into a thousand colors, like a kaleidoscope. Red, blue, and green fell over her body as she made her way to the podium.

Turning to face the crowd, Sal’s throat constricted. She fished around in her pocket for the piece of paper she had scribbled her eulogy on, but found it missing. Terror gripped her. What was she going to do?

What was she going to say?

Sal stood there looking out over the hundred or so assembled party. All eyes were upon her. She went to open her mouth, but found her jaw wouldn’t cooperate. Her mind felt blank. Everything that Maria had meant to her was suddenly beyond her grasp.

“
I have absolutely no idea what to say,” Sal heard herself pronounce.

To her surprise, Sal watched heads nod up and down in agreement. She had thought the room would be filled with condemnation. Instead, there was a murmur of respect. It gave her the strength to find the next words.

“
How can you sum up a person, especially one as special and precious as Maria, in a few sentences?” Sal chuckled. “And given the fact she defied description. Took such pride in not being boxed in by labels.”

This time, Sal surveyed the room with a sense of calm. Some of the mourners were wiping away tears. Others were bent over, commiserating with their neighbors. All, however, seemed touched by her words.

“
But I think the one thing Maria wouldn’t have minded me generalizing about her, was her ability to be there for you. For anyone, really…” Sal choked as a tear streamed down her cheek. “To me, she was the perfect friend. Because she was so perfectly flawed. You never felt embarrassed or ashamed to talk to her about your problems, because she’d been there. Boy trouble? Hell, girl trouble? Maria was your go-to gal.”

Laughter rose from the crowd. Each remembered a time that they had sought out the head nurse, not as a supervisor but as a confidante.

Sal soaked in the moment. The chapel was beautiful and peaceful, but so somber. The laughter felt incongruent. As did her pink shirt. Like the stained glass and neutral carpet refused to be amused. For a moment, Sal regretted putting the garish garment on, then realized it wasn’t the shirt that felt out of place.

“
You know what? I really appreciate Dr. Bersher’s efforts to put this together, but I feel like Maria would see this ceremony as a ‘total buzz kill.’ ”

Again, laughter. Even the Badger chuckled.

“
And I really don’t think we can do Maria’s memory right without pints of lager in our hands. So unless anyone objects, how about we adjourn to the pub and throw a wake to end all wakes?”

The crowd’s response was rousing. While Bersher looked a little more uncertain, he finally gave the nod. To her surprise, people flooded the dais, hugging her, shaking her hand, kissing her cheek.

Sal guessed she did know what to say after all.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 53

“
Now, this is more like it!” Paul exclaimed as he lifted his mug. Glasses clinked together in a symphony. Sal found herself chuckling as the nurses tried to glug the beer down in one swallow. They all came out of it with foam on their lips.

Yeah, Maria would have liked this kind of memorial.

Behind her, Sal could hear other nurses remembering how Maria had helped them fix their credit. Another cluster of mourners talked of how she went online and researched the perfect cat for one of their allergic children.

Yet another group laughed at Maria’s high jinks with an intern in the laundry room that resulted in flooding the entire sub-basement.

That was Maria’s true legacy. Over a hundred people could remember her in their own individual ways. Sal was so engrossed in the perfection of the scene that she didn’t hear Bersher approach.

“
I know this might not be the most sensitive time to ask …”

She turned to find the large man seeming more humble than normal.

“
Ask?”

“
As you know, Dr. Yeshato has been confined to bed rest.”

“
Yes …” she answered slowly. Did he really expect her to pull a shift tonight? She honestly wasn’t sure how she was still standing.

“
Well, she and her husband were going to attend the Better Tomorrows fund-raiser tonight to represent the hospital, but obviously, they have had to cancel.”

Sal groaned inwardly. This request was worse than work. Granted, for San Francisco’s elites, the benefit was one of the social highlights of the year. When else could they attend a gala with the dramatic backdrop of Alcatraz to add a bit of danger to their evening?

The rest of the guests weren’t so lucky, however, since they were City employees sent there to beg for donations. The invitations were issued to department heads of any and all of San Francisco’s myriad of city services.