What Echoes Render Read online

  Dazed for a moment, David watched his teammate head toward the door, then leapt up to follow him out to his car. Without a word he climbed into the passenger seat. Dominic revved the engine and backed out.

  “What do you know?” he asked, his voice shaky. He fumbled with the radio dial, hoping to find some news.

  “Not much. SWAT was deployed, the police, and first responders,” Dominic replied, turning onto the road that would take them to the highway, the fastest route down to Riverside.

  “Why would they need first responders at a hospital?” He asked the question and then felt sick because he knew the answer. Depending on how many people were shot and who they were, they’d need all the help they could get. “Oh, god,” he choked out.

  He kept his face turned to the passenger window, away from Dominic’s concerned glances, for most of the drive, praying the entire time that when they got there he’d see her. Fifteen minutes away from the hospital, his chief called with an update. Two people had been shot, one bystander and the shooter himself. That increased the odds that Jesse wasn’t a victim, but there was no way he was going to relax until he actually knew she was okay.

  They pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and it was a zoo. Cops and media were everywhere. He scanned the police line and wondered whether or not they’d let him through. He wasn’t a responder and he wasn’t law enforcement, they’d have every right to keep him out. But that wasn’t going to happen.

  “David!” Dominic tugged his sleeve. “That’s her, isn’t it?” he asked, pointing to a hospital entrance.

  At that moment, the moment he saw Jesse standing by the doors talking to a police officer, he felt something he had never in his life felt before: the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees and thank god, or whoever it was who had been listening to his prayers.

  “Jesse!” he shouted. He was smart enough not to break through the police line and go running across the parking lot when they’d just had a shooting, but it was hard to hold himself back. She didn’t seem to hear him so he called again. And then, slowly, she turned.

  Her eyes met his and he saw her hand come to her mouth, as if she was fighting off the urge to cry. She started walking toward him and he ducked under the tape. An officer made a move toward him, but she called to the officer and waved him off.

  He was incapable of words when she walked straight into his arms. He pulled her against him, holding her tight. His cheek came down on her head and he closed his eyes and breathed her in, feeling her heartbeat, absorbing her vitality. He didn’t ever want to let her go.

  “I’m okay, David,” she finally managed to say. Then her arms tightened around him and she let out a small, choked sob. “But Abigail, Dr. Martinez, she’s been shot. She’s in surgery.” She paused, unable to go on for a minute. “We don’t know if she’s going to make it. I was standing right next to her.”

  If he hadn’t been holding her when he’d heard that, he wasn’t sure he would have remained standing. He felt himself start to shake at the thought of her so close to death, and with a sense of desperation he’d never felt so strongly before, he needed to get her out there, away from it all.

  “Dominic is here. He can drive us home.” His hand slipped down to hers and he started to pull her with him toward his friend’s car. It took him a second to realize she wasn’t moving. He turned back and looked into her eyes.

  “I can’t, David.” Her voice was small, but certain. “It’s my hospital. I can’t leave my people.”

  He blinked, unsure he was hearing her correctly. “You were almost shot, your friend is lying in surgery, no one expects you to do your job right now.”

  She gave him a small smile. “But they do. I’m the head of the hospital, we’re in the middle of a crisis; I’m not abandoning my staff.”

  Intellectually, he understood what she was saying, but everything in him rebelled against it.

  “Joe is here, Abigail’s husband. Matt is bringing Danielle, her daughter, back from Boston and they should be here in less than hour—I want to be here for them. I also have staff I need to settle, a hospital I need to get back in functioning order, police to work with, and a nurse, the sister of the shooter, we need to find. Not to mention handling the media. Of all the times to leave, this isn’t it. And I know you know that.” She added the last bit so softly that any anger or frustration he felt dissolved and all that was left was his need to protect her.

  “Jesse, don’t ask me to walk away.”

  “I’m not,” she shook her head. “But I have a job to do. I don’t know how long it will take or when I’ll be done, but I need to do it.”

  He took a deep breath. “Okay, I hate it. I hate leaving you.” She smiled at his petulance. “But I get it.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “Promise me you’ll stay close to the police and with groups of people. Promise me you’ll be as safe as you can be?”

  She nodded against his hand then kissed his palm. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m able to take a break,” she said.

  He cupped her face and stared into her eyes, memorizing every detail. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.

  “If I don’t hear from you by the end of my shift tonight, I’m coming back and dragging you away.”

  She gave him another soft smile, then nodded. He didn’t want to let her go, but she took a step back. His fingers still held hers, but no other part of them touched.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  He managed a nod and then she turned and slipped away. He stood, watching her back, as she walked toward the hospital. A police officer joined her just outside the door and the two disappeared from sight.

  ***

  At six thirty that evening, David stood at the door to Jesse’s house. She’d called him when she’d left the hospital so he knew she was inside. He also knew Abigail hadn’t pulled through surgery, and that despite the loss of one of her closest friends, Jesse had forged her way through the day. He had no doubt, judging from her actions and the tone of her voice when they’d spoken on the phone, that she had stuffed her emotions way down deep in order to get through the day. She’d even snapped at him when he’d asked, for the second time, how she was holding up. He didn’t take it personally, people had to do what they had to do to get through times like this. Not only had she lost a friend, but she’d had to run the hospital and stay strong for Abigail’s family, and her own two sons, too.

  But enough was enough and he was going to make sure that she had what she really needed, not just what she thought she wanted, to deal with the events of that day.

  “Can I help you?” Matt stepped through the door, holding it close behind him. “Aren’t you that arson investigator?”

  He nodded. “I’m here to see your mother.”

  Matt’s eyes were red rimmed and his expression blank.

  “Matt, who is it?” James’s head popped around the door behind his brother.

  “Mr. Hathaway, right?” Matt asked, still obviously confused as to why he was there. David nodded and looked at both the boys. They weren’t about to let him in, let him invade their space. Or their mother’s space. He didn’t think it was because they didn’t like him, but more because they were protecting their mother, trying to give her some of the peace she hadn’t had all day.

  “I’m sorry about Dr. Martinez,” he said.

  Both boys nodded and James looked away, blinking.

  “Is your mother here?”

  “Matt? James? What are you doing? Oh, David.” And there she stood. Shielded by her sons, wearing a robe and holding a glass of wine. It looked like she’d just finished a bath and he was glad to see she was doing something for herself. He felt himself relax for the first time all day.

  “Jesse.”

  The boys moved aside as she stepped forward. He could feel the change in their expressions, curiosity creeping into their minds.

  “I didn’t know you were going to stop by,” she said.

  He looked at her in disbeli
ef. She’d almost been shot less than ten hours ago and she thought he was just going to let it go. His eyes flickered to the boys standing behind her. Maybe she was still trying to keep her relationship with him a secret, but as far as he was concerned, there were bigger things to worry about right now.

  “Matt, James,” he spoke, addressing the boys. Both sets of eyes met his. “Your mother and I have been seeing each other for over three months. I have a tremendous amount of respect for her, and if you are wondering, yes, I do love her. But we can talk about that later, because right now, your mom and I need to have a chat.”

  Jesse looked stunned and he seized the opportunity. Taking hold of her hand, he moved past the boys and pulled her into the house.

  “Mom?” Matt called.

  “It’s fine,” she managed to say as he dragged her behind him, not stopping until they got to her bedroom and he’d shut the door behind him.

  For a moment, she just stood there, glass in hand, looking at him. Then she burst.

  “What the hell was that about?”

  “Have you cried today?” he asked.

  “What? Of course I have,” she brushed him off. “I thought we agreed that I was going to tell the boys? I can’t believe you just said that to them! Without talking to me first or even giving me any warning. What were you thinking?” she demanded.

  “I’m sorry about Abigail.” Her voice had risen, but he kept his quiet.

  “What?” she demanded.

  He’d seen this before, too. It was hard for her to hear anyone through her own pain.

  “I said, I’m sorry about Abigail,” he repeated.

  “You have a funny way of showing it. Things are already getting complicated between us and now you’ve complicated them even more. David, I care about you, you know I do. I even love you, too, although I’m not really feeling it right now. But you’ve just made my life monumentally—hey, stop! What are you doing?”

  He cut her off by gathering her in his arms and sitting them on the bed, with her in his lap. He took the glass of wine and placed it on the bedside table and then just held her.

  “What are you doing?” She demanded again, sitting rigid in his arms.

  “Holding you.”

  “I’m fine. I think you should go.” She was wooden in his arms, staring straight ahead.

  He ignored her and just held on. She was a strong woman but she’d break eventually. Not because he wanted her too, but because she needed to. But he also knew it was a place she wouldn’t let herself go without a fight. There were a hundred and one reasons for her to stay strong and stoic and only one to let go. He wanted her to take that reason, to value herself as much as she did everyone around her. So he just sat, his arms looped around her, his cheek resting against her shoulder.

  He watched ten minutes click by on the clock before he felt her start to relax. Ten minutes after that, she was crying silently against his chest. Crying for her friend, for herself, for Abigail’s family, and for the tragedy of the day. Easing them back onto her bed, he lay beside her, never letting her go as she clung to him and finally let herself go.

  ***

  It was dark when David slid from her side and made his way to the kitchen. Matt was sitting at the breakfast bar when he walked in. They nodded to each other silently and David watched the young man’s eyes search his before they dropped down to his shirt, still wet with Jesse’s tears.

  “She cried,” Matt stated, sounding a bit surprised. David nodded, making his way to the coffee maker.

  “She never cries.”

  He raised the carafe, silently asking Matt if he wanted coffee. When Matt nodded, David filled it with water and started the pot.

  “Everyone cries sometimes,” David said.

  “Even you?” Matt challenged.

  David thought of the night he’d come to Jesse desperately trying to escape the reality of the little brother and sister. “Even me,” he conceded. “But only when I know I don’t have to be strong anymore.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, sometimes it’s hard to let yourself cry when you know you need to be strong for other people. When you have other people relying on you.”

  Matt got up, walked around the counter, then leaned up against it. “Who does she need to be strong for?”

  “You, your brother, Abigail’s family, the hospital. A whole shitload of people.”

  It crossed his mind that maybe he should be watching his language. But he’d spoken the truth and the situation wasn’t exactly normal anyway.

  “She doesn’t need to be strong for us,” James said, joining them.

  “You’re her kids, of course she needs to be strong for you.”

  “You sound like you speak from experience?” Matt asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I have a daughter. She’s a year older than you, a sophomore in college in Rhode Island.”

  Both the boys seemed to take this in.

  “And you’re dating our mother?” Matt asked.

  He nodded. He wasn’t fooled by the mock-easy way Matt spoke. This was the moment—the moment when they could reject him, get angry with him, or worse, get angry with their mother. He didn’t know which way it was going to go.

  “And you love her?” James asked.

  Again, he nodded, feeling tension creep into his body.

  And then Matt gave a small smile. “So, she’s been sneaking around for what, three months? Really? Our mom?”

  “Ooh, I think I’m going to be able to get away with a lot from now on,” James added with a laugh.

  For the first time all day, David smiled. “I wouldn’t count on it, James.”

  ***

  For a moment, when Jesse woke up, she wondered if she was alone. The house was silent—no voices, no one moving about. And then she remembered.

  David.

  She buried herself under the covers for a little longer, thinking about what had happened. She’d told him she was fine, he hadn’t believed her. She’d been rude to him, yelled at him, he’d ignored it. She’d told him to leave and he’d gathered her in his arms and held on. And let her fall apart.

  Thinking about it again brought another set of tears to her eyes. For Abigail yes, but also tears of loss and of hope. When she’d had two miscarriages between giving birth to Matt and getting pregnant with James, Mark had left her to mourn on her own. Not that he hadn’t loved her or checked in on her or taken care of her, he had. He had doted and tried to fix things that couldn’t be fixed. But when Mark had asked how she was and she had answered “fine,” he had left it at that. When she’d been anything but fine.

  She always worked through things and sorted them out. But she always did it on her own, in her own time. She thought Mark was being respectful by leaving her to her own process. But after what David had done earlier, she was starting to wonder if maybe she and Mark had had it wrong all those years.

  David hadn’t pushed or tried to fix things, he just hadn’t let her run away from them. And he hadn’t freaked out or offered her platitudes when she’d cried. The memory of his physical body holding her, keeping her still, was a new sort of comfort. And the way he’d just held on while she cried, letting her break into a million pieces, even knowing he couldn’t put her back together, wasn’t embarrassing or frustrating at all. Unlike how she had always felt with Mark.

  She had hated crying in front of Mark because he would immediately try to make it right. She knew he responded that way out of love for her, but sometimes things just can’t be made right, or sometimes she knew she had it in her to make them right herself but needed a moment before she did so. And when Mark tried to fix things or point out how she could fix them—as if she didn’t know—it would make her angry. And then he would get hurt and she would have to deal with his pain as well as hers. So, over the years, she’d just stopped showing him that side of her.

  But David had just let her be herself. Or, more precisely, he’d let her be more than who she had become over
the last several years. He hadn’t let her get away with ignoring herself, and because he had stayed rock steady with her the whole time, she felt a new solidity and strength about their relationship. Oh, it was always good, and she’d told the truth when she’d said she loved him. But this was different. This was more. This was feeling like their relationship had taken root and no matter what way the wind blew, it wasn’t going anywhere.

  She knew she had a long few days and months ahead of her as she mourned the loss of her friend, but she felt a renewed sense of energy knowing she wouldn’t be alone as she pushed through the coming weeks. And when she heard a muted chuckle coming from down the hall, she knew she wasn’t alone now, not by a long shot.

  As she walked into the kitchen, three sets of eyes turned toward her. David was sitting at the breakfast bar playing penny poker with her sons. Matt and David each had cups of coffee in front them and James had a glass of juice.

  “Mom,” Matt said, rising from his chair. He enveloped her in a huge hug. She held on to him for a moment, burying her face against him.

  “How are you?” she asked, stepping back. “Have you talked to Danielle?”

  He shrugged in answer to the first question. “I told her I’d come over after you woke up.” He glanced at the clock. “Do you mind?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’d say take something with you, but from experience I know they aren’t going to want to eat tonight. So just go and be with her.” Matt gave her a long, steady look then squeezed her hand and let go.

  “I’m not sure how late I’ll be,” he said, gathering his keys.

  She waved him off. “Go, stay as long as you want or as long as she needs you. We’ll be here.”

  When he was gone, she turned her eyes to David and James. Both were watching her. She offered a small smile and brushed a hand over David’s hair as she walked past to get herself her own cup of coffee. He reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

  “Can I get you anything, Mom?” James asked.

  She stopped short, sat down beside David, slid her empty mug over, and let her son help her. “A cup of coffee?”