19. Jesse

JESSE

I drovearound for what seemed like forever to find a damn spot in the hospital parking lot. I finally found one so far away from the entrance, I had to jog what felt like a mile to get to the emergency room doors.

"Sir, can I help you?"

The clerk lifted her glasses from the chain dangling around her neck and slid them on.

"Yes, I'm here to see Carmela Patterson. She was brought in by ambulance."

She nodded, sifting through the papers on the desk before turning back to me.

"She's still undergoing tests. No one can be back there right now, but you could have a seat." She pointed a bright-pink fingernail toward the waiting room behind me.

I was about to argue when I spotted Emily, hunched over her tablet in the corner of the empty waiting room.

"Thank you," I muttered as I rushed over.

As I approached, I found a sleeping Emily, her eyes shut as her head rested against her hand. She'd texted me this morning that her mother had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night and that she couldn't make the game today, but I didn't know how long she'd been here.

I wished she would have called me right when it happened, but she probably didn't because she knew I had Maddie and couldn't leave without someone to watch her—or at least, I wanted to believe that.

As excruciating as it was, I'd given Emily space after she'd left my house last weekend. When I'd thought I finally had her back, she'd left. She'd said she didn't blame me for how I'd broken up with her, but when I trudged back inside after she'd driven away, alone with remnants of Emily still all over me, I couldn't help thinking I'd finally gotten what I'd deserved.

I still spoke to her every day, but we hadn't known how to act around each other at soccer practice this week. She hadn't avoided me, but neither of us could make eye contact. Every time I'd looked her way, I'd thought of her in my arms, in my bed, the taste of her as she came on my tongue. My mind and body would react to the memories if I stared too long, so I'd tried to focus on the rest of the field instead of the woman I'd always loved.

But if I wanted her, I had no option other than to wait, and I couldn't push, even if the paralyzing helplessness made me want to jump out of my skin.

It would take her a while to trust me enough to rely on me, but knowing she didn't—at least not all the way yet—stung.

I put a gentle hand on her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

"Jesse?" she whispered, squinting at me as she jerked her head up. "What are you doing here? Maddie has a game."

"I didn't want you to be here alone." I slid into the seat next to her. "How long have you been here?"

"Since three, maybe? Mom was able to call for help after the fall but lost consciousness right after. I haven't even seen her yet. All they've told me is that they're running tests." She dropped her head against my shoulder. "I feel like I've been here forever."

I was more familiar than I wanted to be with how time could basically stop in a hospital and how hours and days could go by without realizing it.

"But I'm fine. We only have a few games left. I don't want Maddie to miss it."

"She's not missing it. Caden is taking her today, and he'll bring her home later."

"Oh, that's good. Maybe he can help Sabrina today too." The corner of her mouth lifted in a tired smile. "I think she's used to the kids, but it's a lot easier when there're two of us."

"They'll be fine." I kneaded the back of her neck. "I wish you would have called me."

"You wanted me to call you at two in the morning?" She rolled her eyes at me.

"If something is wrong, yes, I do."

She shook her head. "You have a kid to worry about."

"I have you to worry about."

She rubbed her eyelids, her silence making me feel even worse, but I'd wait to argue that point until after she found out her mother was—hopefully—okay.

"Is there anyone you need me to call?"

She shut her eyes and shook her head.

"Nope. My cousins all live in Vegas now, and we hardly speak other than a Christmas card."

"What about your mom's friend? Ann, I think her name was?—"

"Anna. She passed away a couple of years ago. That was part of why I moved back and found a place so close. Mom wouldn't admit it, but I could tell she was lonely." She fell back against the vinyl cushion of the chair and crossed her arms. "So, we are pretty much alone. It's not news, but it hit much different after sitting here for the past few hours."

Her gaze floated to the back of the room.

"I used to think it was easier that way. Too many people in your life means too many expectations and too many ways they can disappoint you."

Her eyes clenched shut for a second when they met mine.

"I didn't mean you. Well…" She laughed to herself. "I didn't mean only you. It's weird how life gets smaller as you get older, you know? When my grandparents were alive, our house was bursting at the seams with family and friends. Not just on holidays, but Sundays too. You remember."

"I do." I nodded and stretched my arm along the back of her chair. "I've never eaten more at one meal like I used to at your house."

"Right?" Her eyes were bloodshot and tired, but I wondered how much of the exhaustion I spied in her gaze was from lack of sleep. "Then grandparents pass away, friends move, and everything you thought would last forever dwindles."

She uttered a humorless laugh when her eyes found mine.

"I had my friends at work and in the city and always had Sabrina. But being with someone, that I was never good at." She flashed me a wry grin. "I can only blame you so much."

I chuckled but didn't reply so she'd continue.

"I always felt like things were decided for me before I had a say in any of it. I liked soccer and I was good at it, so my mother pushed me into making that a way to pay for school. Then the only college that would give me a full scholarship was six hours away from everyone I cared about, but I had no choice but to go. Then…We don't need to rehash that when I'm on two hours of sleep." She pressed her palm to her forehead and let out a yawn.

"The first real choice I ever made about my own life was the day I told my coach to take me out of the running for the draft into a professional league. I said I'd play out the rest of my time in school and work hard, but that wasn't what I wanted to do once I graduated." She shrugged. "Felt good."

"I'm sure it did," I squeezed her knee and drifted my thumb back and forth on her thigh. I never thought I could feel worse about hurting Emily when we were young, but the lost look in her eyes cut me so deep I couldn't look at her for a moment.

"I dated. For fun, since I didn't have time for anything else in college. I was even engaged once. I made it all the way to the last deposit on the wedding venue before I broke it off."

"What happened?" I asked more out of curiosity than jealousy, although the thought of another man's ring on her finger turned my stomach.

"He told me he'd changed his mind about having kids. But it shouldn't matter to me if I really wanted to marry him. That it shouldn't be a deal-breaker because if I loved him, he should be enough."

She lifted her gaze from the floor and shook her head.

"He wasn't. If we tried and it didn't happen, that was one thing. But if I went ahead and married him, knowing that something I'd always wanted was automatically off the table, it would feel like another concession. And I'd had enough of those." She sniffled before exhaling a long gust of air. "Alone felt better than settling. And that's what it had seemed like I'd be doing if I married him."

"Do you still speak to him?"

"Oh no," she scoffed, her chest rumbling with a laugh. "He called me a cold bitch and told me good luck being anyone's mother."

"I'll kick his ass if you tell me where he lives."

She patted my hand where it still rested on her thigh.

"It's not worth it, and he was right. We were together for a couple of years, and while that's something he should have been up front about earlier, it shouldn't have been the reason for me to walk away and not even be that sad over it. Maybe there is something wrong with me."

"There is not one fucking thing wrong with you."

"I told you I had baggage." She smiled, lifting a shoulder. "You remember high school Emily. She was a lot less complicated than this one is, Jess."

"No, she wasn't." I cupped her neck. "She's still beautiful from the inside out. I see you with Maddie and with all the kids on the team, and you loved my sister. Your heart is too big for you not to be an amazing mother if that's what you want."

I peeled her hand off her leg and brought it to my lips.

"It's big enough for you to take care of your pathetic ex-boyfriend when he was so drunk he still doesn't remember everything that happened that night. You're the complete opposite of a cold bitch, and I never want to hear you say that again."

"Either way," she said, her hand limp against mine, "I'm alone. It's what I wanted, right? I work alone, I live alone. And if anything happens to that ornery lady back there," she said, her voice cracking, "I'll really be alone. I guess I'm just now realizing how lonely alone is."

"You're not alone." I crouched in front of her so she'd have nowhere to look but at me. "You have me. Since that first day and, whatever you decide, for the rest of my life. As long as I'm alive, you aren't alone."

Big tears snaked down her cheeks, but her expression didn't change. Our eyes stayed locked until we turned to the buzz of her cell phone on the seat next to her.

"Sabrina is FaceTiming me," she said, squinting at her phone. She swiped her cheeks with the back of her hand before she tapped the screen. "Hey, everything okay?"

"We are all okay." Sabrina's voice was garbled as she moved the phone around. "The kids just wanted to say hi."

I took a seat next to Emily to see the screen. Maddie and all the other kids on the team waved their hands and screamed their hellos at once.

"Don't worry, Coach Emily," Maddie said after she pulled the phone toward herself. "We're going to win for you."

Emily snuck me a smile.

"Thank you, Maddie. That means a lot to me, but I just want you to do your best and have a good time today."

The camera dropped to the grass before Caden's face filled the screen.

"Don't worry about a thing, Em. Sabrina and I have this covered. And listen," he whispered as he brought the phone closer. "I've been watching the other team practice, and if we just trip the big kid, I think we can clear the way?—"

"No!" Emily yelled. "Jesus, Caden, they're kids."

"This one looks like he's got a five-o'clock shadow. Does anyone check their birth certificates?"

"Caden," I growled, taking the phone from Emily. "Just have them kick the ball back and forth and give them snacks in between. No need for sabotage."

"Fine," he sighed. "But we got this. Just take care of your mom."

"Thank you," Emily said before jabbing the screen to end the call.

"I really hope he doesn't tell the kids to trip anyone." She pressed her hands to her cheeks.

"I think he was kidding. Mostly. But Sabrina will keep him in check."

She nodded, her eyes roaming my face as another heavy silence fell over us.

"Ms. Patterson?"

Emily jumped up from the seat as a doctor came up to us.

"Yes. How's my mother?"

Emily's chest deflated when he smiled.

"Lucky. Her hip has a minor fracture, so I don't think she needs a replacement. But she will need surgery. Orthopedics will be by this afternoon to look and come up with a plan moving forward. She has a nice bump on her head but just a minor concussion."

Emily leaned against me as the tension melted from her shoulders.

"Can I see her?"

"She's up and awake and asking whatever nurse stops in when she can eat."

She pressed a hand to her chest.

"That means she's going to be okay," she said, turning to me with a watery smile.

"I'd say so," I said, chuckling as I wrapped my arms around her waist.

"You can go see her now," the doctor said, motioning to the double doors behind her. "She's in curtain three."

"Thank you," Emily croaked out.

She cried into my chest, her shoulders shaking as she let out a soft sob.

"Don't cry," I crooned as I rubbed her back. "It's going to be fine. She's okay. And if we don't find her a muffin or something, she's probably going to raise some hell back there."

She backed away with a soggy chuckle, her face still in her hands.

"Come with me," she said, grabbing my hand.

"It's okay, Em. I'll wait out here for you."

She shook her head. "She needs to get used to you again."

The beautiful and easy smile spreading across her lips, along with her assumption I'd be sticking around, ignited a glimmer of hope in my chest.

"Hey, Mom," Emily whispered after she pulled the curtain open.

"Why are you whispering?" Mrs. Patterson crinkled her nose. "It's morning, isn't it? Everyone's awake."

Mrs. Patterson had always been a petite woman, but she seemed even tinier in the hospital bed. Her cropped blond hair was now white and shorter, sticking up as she ran an IV-covered hand through it in frustration.

"They told me you had a concussion, so I didn't want to make your headache worse. Thanks for the scare, Mom." Emily kissed her cheek and took a seat next to the bed.

"I didn't plan on the new blood pressure pills making me dizzy enough to fall. Thank God I keep my phone in my pocket." She turned her head and tapped Emily's chin. "You've been up all night, haven't you? Sorry I scared you, cookie."

"It's fine, as long as you're okay."

I was about to step out, feeling all kinds of intrusive watching them when Mrs. Patterson scowled at me over Emily's shoulder.

"Are you going to come say hello or what?"

I laughed at the hint of a smirk on her face.

"Good to see you, Mrs. Patterson." I came up to the bed and squeezed her hand. "Not here, of course, but happy to see you again."

"You're almost forty, for Christ's sake. Call me Carmela."

"I'm sorry to interrupt." A nurse peeked inside the curtain. "Your insurance card says there is a secondary plan, but we can't find the number."

"I can help with that." Emily rose from the seat to follow the nurse, stilling for a moment before turning to her mother. "Be nice."

A chuckle escaped me as I took a seat on the opposite side of the bed.

"I was wondering when I'd see you." She raised a brow at me as she shifted on the mattress.

"You were?" I leaned closer, not sure if it was her concussion talking.

"As soon as Emily said she ran into you at the reunion and that she was coaching your niece, I figured it was a matter of time." She hissed as she leaned toward the bed rail. "Can you fix this pillow for me, please?"

"Of course." I held her hand as she bent forward, and I adjusted the two pillows at her back. "Better?"

"Yes, much. The pain medicine they gave me has me nice and loopy, but it's hard to get comfortable." She settled back on the bed, frowning as sadness flashed across her face. "I'm so sorry about your sister. What a doll she was. I called your mother when Emily told me."

"Thank you. Mom never said she spoke to you."

"We used to talk all the time back then. You two never knew that either. You used to worry us, being so intense." She clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head. "Believe it or not, I always liked you. You were a good kid then and now, taking care of your sister's baby and making a good life for her."

Pride swelled in my chest at her warm and easy smile. After years of trying so hard to be on her good side, I never would have guessed I was already there.

"When you're a single parent, you have to be a little scary. Comes with the job. If you haven't learned that yet—" she pointed a finger at me "—you will very soon."

"I haven't had to be scary yet, but I'm ready. Having learned from the best." I smiled and patted her knee.

In all the years I'd known Emily's mother, this was the first time I ever witnessed her truly laugh. When her face lit up, she reminded me a lot of her daughter.

"What choice did I have? Who was going to keep you in line? My father?" She waved a hand, her nose turned up in disgust. "He was more in love with you than my daughter was. And my mother fed you until I was sure you'd throw up one day, and you never told her no. I was on my own."

"I never faulted you for that." I shook my head. "In fact, I told Emily that I admired you for it. She was special and deserved the best." I eased forward and raised a brow. "You were right to never let me forget it."

She nodded, studying my face. I'd bet if she sat up and punched me for hurting her daughter, IVs attached to her arms or not, it would still really hurt.

"I promise that I will never hurt her again. I love your daughter very much."

"I know that. I knew that. Why do you think I hovered so much? Kids in love don't exactly think too clearly. Adults too." She looked away. "I'm glad you were here for her today. Although I'm sure she didn't call you to come, and you just showed up."

"You'd be right."

She shut her eyes and nodded.

"She grew up to be a tough nut to crack, but I have no doubt you will. You just have to prove that you're not going anywhere."

"I'm not, Mrs.—Carmela." God, that felt weird. "I'm hers for the rest of my life, and if it takes that long to prove it to her, I will."

"Oh, don't be dramatic. It won't take that long. I should still be alive by the time it happens."

I burst out laughing before I could help it.

"Hey there." Another nurse drew back the curtain. "The food cart is outside if you'd like to get anything. I know you've been saying you're hungry."

"I'll grab you some breakfast." I stood and motioned to the cart. "What would you like?"

"I doubt the selection is big, but coffee and some kind of pastry would be great, thank you." She grabbed my arm before I headed out. "Two things before I forget. Don't let her be alone tonight." Her mouth flattened. "She's shaken up, even if she won't admit it. So, don't leave her, okay?"

"I had no intention of it. What else?"

"I'm old and traditional and will expect you to ask my permission before you propose to my daughter."

I blinked a few times as I tried to figure out how to reply.

"It's only been a few months since we've?—"

"It's been eons, trust me. I knew if you ever came back into her life, that would be it. And here you are. Now go to the cart before they leave and I have to wait until lunch."

I had no reply as my jaw went slack.

"Go." She pointed to the cart. "And if you get me a cheese Danish" —a smile curved her lips— "I may even tell you yes."