23. Remi

"The lifespan of tastebuds is ten days." ~ Tim Rhodes

My eyes fluttered open,and it took me a moment to acclimate to my surroundings. When I adjusted, I was overwhelmed with a sense of déjà vu. Just like a week before, when I woke up in the hotel room, I immediately knew I was alone. I felt the same void I had in the Best Western in Chicago, except now I was at ‘Ana's' house.

Last night had been…inevitable. We'd made love three times. The first time in the kitchen. The second was in the hallway as I carried her back to her bedroom. The third and final time had been in this bed. After our second encore, Taylor had fallen asleep in my arms, just like she had the first night we'd spent together. And just like the first night, she'd snuck out like a thief in the night.

I sat up and shifted so my legs were off the bed. My feet hit the hardwood floor as I scrubbed my hands over my face. I lowered my arms and saw the clock beside the table. It read 10:00 a.m.

Shit. I hadn't meant to sleep that long. I hadn't meant to sleep at all. My plan had been to wake Taylor up with kisses and have round four in the shower before she left for work. I'd never been a heavy sleeper. All my life, the slightest sound or movement would wake me up. But with Taylor, I passed go and went directly to REM sleep.

I wasn't sure what that meant, but I decided not to read too much into it since she seemed resolved to keep ‘us' a secret. If I lived here, I'd definitely challenge her on that. But since I was leaving, I didn't really see the point. At least not now.

I'd decided last night at the wedding that I'd go home today; deal with everything there, and then I didn't see anything stopping me from moving back to Wishing Well. My sister lived here now, and something was going on with my mom that I still had no clue about.

Once I wrapped up things in California, I'd be back to stay. By then, Taylor would have some time to miss me. She'd have some time to wrap her head around our situation. My hope was that once I lived here, officially, we could date. Getting past her strikes would not be easy, but I was confident that I was up for the challenge.

Our story was not over; it was just to be continued…

When I stood, I noticed my clothes were neatly folded on a chair in the corner of the room. Sitting on top of them was a handwritten note. I stalked across her bedroom, naked, and picked it up.

Remi,

I don't really know how to put into words the past week. It has been unlike anything I have ever experienced. Thank you for respecting my decision not to let anyone know about us. I appreciate your discretion more than you know. It is just one more piece of evidence that you are a good egg…a good man.

I know that I'll think of you and the time we've shared often. I'll dream of you when I'm asleep and when I'm awake. In my dreams, there is an alternate reality where we are Kyle and Ana. A reality where you're not the best friend of the father of my baby, or the brother of his new wife, or my cousin's childhood sweetheart. In that reality, Kyle and Ana live happily ever after…

Have a safe trip home.

Always your Ana,

Taylor

She would always be my Ana. What she didn't know was that she was also my Taylor. But I was a patient man.

After getting dressed, I headed out of the house, taking one more look at the kitchen table as the memories we'd made on it filled my head. When I did, I noticed that Taylor had left me a to-go cup of coffee with a smiley face post-it on it. As much as I appreciated the gesture and was tempted to drink it, I decided not to. I could still taste her. Even if it was just for the ride home until I brushed my teeth, I wanted to enjoy the flavor just a little bit longer.

I left the house with a grin on my face, making sure to lock it behind me. When I reached my mom's truck, a text came through. I pulled out my phone and saw that it was from Ruby, letting me know they'd landed in Mexico. I appreciated her humoring me and always keeping me updated when she traveled. Although, now that she was with Kane, I didn't worry nearly as much.

I also saw I'd missed a call from Misty. She'd been calling every day, but I had been sending her to voicemail. I would see her tonight, and we could work out logistics. We owned the home we shared together, so I figured we would sell the house and split the profits.

As I drove through town on the way to the trailer park my mom lived in, I saw Wishing Well through a completely different lens than I ever had before. Well, that's not true. Before my dad died, I'd loved this town. The first nine years of my life—my childhood there—had been idyllic. But after he was gone and my mom fell into depression, there was just so much pain here.

After my dad died, everywhere I looked, I saw moments I'd shared with him and with my mom and him as a family. But now, as I drove through town, I saw people walking their dogs, kids riding their bikes, teenagers making TikToks, couples pushing strollers, and The Senior Striders, a walking group for people over eighty. I saw community. That was something I missed in California. Sure, the guys on my crew were like family. But I didn't live near them. We were scattered all over.

Moving back here just made sense. It was home.

My chest ached as I pulled into the trailer park at the thought of leaving Wishing Well and Taylor, even if it was just for a few months. For a brief moment, I considered the possibility that I was projecting my feelings from my breakup with Misty onto Taylor. Since that, objectively, would be a much more important, and significant relationship in my life. I supposed it was a possibility, but I knew it wasn't the case. I loved Taylor. I'd loved her since the first time I saw her.

Shaking off all thoughts of Misty, of Taylor, and of heartbreak, I exhaled and walked up to the trailer. As I did, I mentally prepared myself for the talk I was going to have with my mom. Something was going on with her. She was disappearing before my eyes. I wasn't sure if her weight loss had to do with her mental or physical health, but there was definitely an issue. She'd always been on the thin side, but I remember that the year after my dad died, she lost a significant amount of weight. Even when she was pregnant with my sister. I remember going to doctor's appointments with her and her being told that she was underweight.

It was hard for me to imagine that her breakup with Randall, an unemployed gamer/DJ who was twenty-six years younger than her, could possibly affect her the same way losing my father, the love of her life, had, but I couldn't be sure. I'd never even seen the two of them together. Maybe she'd loved him. Or maybe the breakup had just triggered the same emotions that my father's death had.

Or maybe she was sick. Physically sick. My mom and I had always had a good relationship, so I wanted to believe that she would tell me if anything was wrong. But then again, I hadn't told her about Misty. Whatever it was, I planned on getting to the bottom of it—or at least trying. I didn't feel quite as much pressure since I'd decided to move home.

I turned the knob and pushed the stuck door with my shoulder. When it opened, the first thing I noticed was that all the curtains were drawn, which was strange. All week, I'd woken up to all the shades being pulled open and a ton of natural light flooding in. Right before I stepped inside, a warning bell went off in my head that something was wrong. That premonition did not prepare me for what I saw when I entered the trailer and found Mom lying face-up on the floor, unconscious.

"Mom!" I called out and rushed to her, taking her pulse to see if I needed to start CPR. She was breathing. I checked for any external injuries and didn't see any. Her skin was shockingly white, so I pressed my hand to her cheek. When I did, I was shocked by how hot she was to the touch. She was burning up.

"Mom!" I called out again.

After the third time I said her name, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911.

"Nine one one, what is your emergency?"

"I found my mom on the floor, passed out. She's not responsive. She has a fever." Part of the requirement for my job was to complete EMT training, and it kicked in now.

"Is she breathing?"

"Yes."

"What is your address?"

"Tumbleweed Trailer Park, number twenty-seven."

I did my best to remain calm and professional as I answered the dispatcher's questions. Unfortunately, I had no clue if my mom had ingested any drugs, prescription or otherwise. Or if she'd had too much to drink.

At the wedding yesterday, she'd nursed a single glass of champagne. I'd known it was one because of the unique lipstick stain on the brim that looked like a butterfly, which Kenna had commented on.

"Okay, paramedics are on their way. I'll stay on the line with you."

"Okay, okay, okay." I did my best to stay calm as I crouched beside my mom and kept my eyes glued to her chest to make sure it was rising and falling. If I wasn't sure, even for a second, I lowered my cheek to her mouth to listen for breaths and feel them.

It felt like an eternity passed before I heard the distant sounds of sirens.

"They should be close," the dispatcher relayed.

"I can hear them."

The sound got louder until it stopped outside the trailer. When I heard steps coming up the metal stairs, I informed the dispatcher they were there and hung up. The door opened, and I looked up and saw Milo Hale, Kenna's brother, who was a firefighter/paramedic with the Wishing Well Fire Department.

I explained how I'd found her and moved out of the way as he and his partner, that I didn't know, took her vitals and began to treat her. I stood by the sink in the tiny kitchenette, feeling completely helpless, as they examined her.

The decision was quickly made that they were going to transport her. The entire scene was somewhat of a blur, but as they put her on the gurney, her eyes began to flutter open.

"Mom!" I called out as they began to load her into the ambulance. She looked at me but didn't respond.

I started to climb in the back of the ambulance, but my mom shouted through the oxygen mask, "No! Go back to California. Don't come with me."

"Mom, I'm coming with you." That was not up for discussion.

"No!" she shouted even louder.

Milo turned and looked at me, and I knew what he was going to say before he said it. It didn't matter that she was my mom; I was upsetting his patient. His first responsibility was to her, and he wasn't going to allow me to ride along.

"I'll meet you guys there." I backed out of the ambulance, confused and scared.

On the way to the hospital, I considered calling Ruby but decided to wait until I had something concrete to tell her. Right now, I had no clue what was going on. All I knew was how relieved I was that it hadn't happened tomorrow, because I would have been back in California.

This was just one more sign that I belonged here. I needed to come home.