CHAPTER 15
THE DOCTOR COMES OUT
AND EVERYONE
IS STUNNED!
ADRIAN
We were in the waiting room at Royaume Northwestern Hospital. It was 10:00 and we’d been here two hours.
The information had been choppy. Apparently, Annabel had been trespassing, climbing into a window, and the resident of the property shot her. The bullet had gone into her shoulder and the injury wasn’t life- threatening. She was in surgery to close the wound and then Vanessa, Brent, and Gerald could see her.
Besides the quick info dump that Vanessa had gotten from the officer who called her, no one had been out to talk to us. As far as I knew, no charges had been brought—yet. In addition to the B and E, they’d found Annabel with several bottles of narcotics in her possession. None was in her name. Where she’d gotten them was anyone’s guess, but if she was breaking into this house, she might have broken into others.
Gerald and Sonja were talking quietly. Brent and Joel were on their phones. Vanessa was curled up next to me, sitting in a chair with her head
on my shoulder. I had an arm around her and my jacket draped over her. I had to fight the urge to kiss the top of her head.
I had to fight the urge to do a lot of things.
I’d like to say that I’d rather be home in my bed, but if Vanessa wasn’t going to be there with me, I was perfectly happy to sit in this chair and hold
her here instead.
She’d come to me and not her dad.
She’d retreated into my arms like I was the only safe haven in the world —and I wanted to be that. I realized today that I always wanted to be there to receive her. I wanted every opportunity to be useful to her. I craved it.
Waited for it. Watched her to see when she might need me to catch her. See her beautiful eyes search a room and zero in on me, a sign to pluck her from her whirling tornado and keep her still.
I was glad to see Gerald was getting his shit together. I was glad for Vanessa’s sake. But the thing I realized tonight was that even if he didn’t, there was no amount of crazy that she or her family could throw at me to make me change my mind about her.
The doors opened and the doctor came out. As soon as she saw him, Vanessa bolted to her feet and the family crowded him.
The doctor made it brief. “I’m Dr. Rasmussen. She’s in recovery. She’s stable,” he said, his tone flat. “I don’t think we’ll need to keep her more than a day.”
Vanessa looked relieved. “Can we see her?”
He looked down at Vanessa like the question irritated him. “No, you cannot. She’s under arrest.”
Vanessa’s face fell. “What?” she breathed.
Gerald blanched next to me. “Arrested? On what grounds?”
The doctor ignored him. “No visitors, and she’ll be released into the Hennepin County jail system,” he said, not even trying to hide his disapproval.
My jaw flexed. I didn’t like his tone—and I knew exactly why he had it.
To him, Annabel was a criminal and a drug addict. And neither thing was his damn business. She was Vanessa’s sister and Grace’s mother, and he’d better pray to God his prejudices didn’t translate into poor care because I’d drag his ass through a malpractice suit the likes of which he’d never seen.
“I’m her attorney,” I said, my voice clipped. “She has a Sixth
Amendment right to counsel. I’ll need to speak with her.” I looked at him levelly. “And I sincerely hope when I do, I find she’s receiving nothing but
exemplary medical care.”
I watched his eyes narrow.
I’d seen it all. Every sort of subtle cruelty subjected on criminal patients.
Making them wait on pain meds, using the largest needle possible for blood draws so they hurt more, treating and streeting them—discharging them early and to the patient’s detriment just to get them off their floor. I knew all
the shit they pulled.
And now he knew I knew.
“Fine,” the doctor said stiffly. “Show your ID at the nurses’ station. Give her another twenty minutes to come out of anesthesia or she won’t be much of a conversationalist,” he added. And then he left.
Vanessa looked up at me. She was starting to cry.
I put my hands on her shoulders. “Hey, don’t do that.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “This is my fault. I turned off her phone. She was probably cold and hungry. She went back to her old house to climb into a window because it was negative five outside and she couldn’t even call me for help, and now she’s going to prison with a bullet wound.”
Brent cleared his throat. “Actually, this is my fault.” He sucked air through his teeth. “She was sorta staying with me and Joel after you said she couldn’t be at Dad’s. I kicked her out this morning after my Tiffany bracelet went missing.”
Vanessa blinked at him. “She’s been with you this whole time?”
“She called me after she crashed the car.” He made a face.
Vanessa’s jaw dropped open. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“You know how you get! And anyway, I gave her very firm boundaries and enforced them when she fucked up—and you know what? No.” He crossed his arms. “This isn’t my fault. It’s not your fault or Dad’s fault.
She’s a hot fucking mess and that’s on her. Maybe her dumb ass needs to go to prison.”
“Brent!” Vanessa blanched. “She needs help! Not to be incarcerated!”
I put my hand up. “And she’ll get help. She’s not going to prison. I’ll make sure of it.”
Vanessa looked back at me with a sniffle. “How?”
“The house she was breaking into—you said she lived there once? It was
her old house?”
She nodded.
“Did they evict her? Or did she just leave?”
Vanessa shook her head. “I think she just left.”
“How long ago?”
She wiped under her eyes. “Three? Maybe four weeks?”
“Okay. Then she’s still a resident of the property and she had a legal right to be on the premises. She wasn’t trespassing—in fact, I’d venture to say the shooter has more to worry about than she does. She’ll be the one dropping charges.”
“But what about the pills? She had all those stolen pills on her. Won’t they say she was selling or something? Say she was a dealer?”
“If anything else sticks, I have a favor I can call in. I’ll get the prosecution to agree on a treatment program in lieu of time. I’ll have her arraigned bedside. She’ll never step foot in a police station, I promise you.
She’s in the best place for her right now. She’s safe, and she’s going to get help. I’ll take care of this. You don’t have to worry about it.”
I saw the stress drain away from her beautiful expression. The relief.
She trusted me. She believed me when I said I’d make things okay—and I would.
I was good at my job. But seeing that she knew I was capable of what I said I would do made me prouder of my law degree than any court case I’d ever won, or any article ever written about it. Her opinion of me meant more to me than anything. And her advice did too.
I’d never in a million years have agreed to Christmas at Mom and Richard’s if it weren’t because Vanessa said I should. I trusted her implicitly. Especially when it came to things that would make me happy. I was beginning to realize that I couldn’t even think outside of my own limited world views to know what those things were.
I was unmovable. I didn’t like change. I didn’t like to adapt. It was easier to decide to hate something or someone and stick with it, because the other option would be to expose myself to the unknown or open myself up to be hurt. And she was right. Why hate Richard? What was the point? It was making everyone unhappy. Including me. And I don’t think I ever would have landed on this realization if she hadn’t taken me there.
She peered up at me with wet eyes, and I put a hand on her smooth
cheek and brushed a tear off her face with my thumb. “I’ll go speak with Annabel, wrap this up so we can get you home.”
Gerald looked pleased with himself. “I told you it was nice to have a
lawyer in the family—”
“Dad!” Vanessa glared at him.
“It’s ridiculous,” he said, going on unfazed. “Trying to lock up an innocent nineteen-year-old girl, shot for climbing into a window in her own house. This government has nothing better to do than mess with tax-paying citizens simply living their lives. I’m going to write the governor a strongly worded letter and tell him where he can shove it.”
Brent sighed dramatically. “Of course. Great idea. Right up there with cutting your own bangs. Well, I’ll be in the parking lot smoking stray cigarette butts if anyone needs me.” He hoisted his backpack, grabbed Joel by the hand, and left.
Vanessa looked back at me, exasperated, and I smiled at her.
I liked Brent. And his flaws and eccentricities aside, Gerald was starting to grow on me too.
He loved his family. He loved his daughters and he loved Grace, and I found it very hard to dislike him, no matter how off the wall his opinions were—at dinner he had announced that the moon landing was a hoax.
I gave Vanessa’s arm a squeeze and headed to the nurses’ station.
This was the second time I’d met Annabel, and even after half an hour of getting her groggy side of the story, I still hadn’t met her. She was coming out of anesthesia and she was drugged up—either by her own hand, or by the hospital. Either way, I think she barely registered the encounter. I was glad Vanessa didn’t get to see her. It would have upset her. Her sister was handcuffed to the bed.
I spoke with the head nurse and informed her that the patient had a high tolerance to narcotics, which should be taken into account when managing her pain. I also made it very clear that I expected her to be made comfortable and that I would be closely monitoring her care.
After I was done, I drove Vanessa home. Gerald and Sonja had their own car and left with Joel and Brent when we did. Vanessa looked spent. We got Grace from Yoga Lady and I carried her to Vanessa’s place and came inside on the premise that I’d help put the baby down for the night, but the truth was I didn’t want to leave her.
I hated the walls between us. The physical ones and ones you couldn’t see.
I wanted to ask Vanessa to stay the night at my place—which was ridiculous because I didn’t have a guest bedroom. But I wanted to ask her.
And I knew if I did, she would. She was always about distraction and fun.
She’d probably squeal about sleepovers and accept my invitation and make me paint my nails and do mud masks—and I didn’t even care. I’d do it. I’d put her in my bedroom with Grace and I’d take the couch… But it was a bad idea for me.
This wasn’t a woman I was just friends with—even if she was just friends with me. Everything with Vanessa meant something. And every time she gave me more of herself, I found it difficult to give it back. If I got to wake up tomorrow morning and see her there, every day that I couldn’t would be that much emptier than before.
That’s why I couldn’t ask her to stay over. It would just make this harder on me, blur lines. Lines that she’d placed there for a reason. Lines she’d made clear she didn’t want moved.
Vanessa went to the bathroom to get into her pajamas while I changed Grace’s diaper. When she came out, she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and washed her face. She had on a maroon Vance Refrigeration shirt and some polka-dot pajama pants, and she smelled like toothpaste and some sort of flowery soap or lotion.
It felt like I should be getting changed too. Getting ready to go to bed with her. The feeling was so casual and natural I almost had to remind myself that I didn’t live here—even if it felt like I did.
I wondered what it would be like to be with her in the middle of the night. To sleep next to her, even if we never touched. Waking up with Grace to let Vanessa sleep, hearing Vanessa softly breathing and being able to see her as I opened my eyes, tuck a blanket around her. Know that she and Grace were safe and protected because I would never let anything happen to them… Those late hours were forbidden to me. They were as forbidden to me as kissing her. And I wanted them. I wanted the privilege of them.
I was starting to feel a building desperation. Like I knew in my soul we were supposed to be more than this and I didn’t know how to make her know it too.
The longing was beginning to feel all consuming. And it was only going to get worse, because every day I spent with her it already did.
I laid Grace down in her crib and Vanessa came up beside me and sighed quietly. “You know, most people who see a train wreck a mile ahead have the sense to get off the train,” she said tiredly. “Not you. Now you have a Price for a client.”
“I don’t mind helping,” I said, straightening and turning to her.
She peered up at me. “I wish there was something I could do to thank
you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“I like doing things for you.”
Her face went a little soft. “Because you’re a fixer. It’s your way of being in control. But you know, not everything can be fixed. You can’t always make everything better, Adrian.”
When I didn’t reply, she changed the subject. “How was she? When you saw her. Was Annabel okay?”
I crossed my arms. “Disoriented. A little scared maybe. But she’ll be fine.”
She shook her head. “Will she? What if this wasn’t the wake-up call we’re hoping it is? What if being shot isn’t actually her rock bottom?”
“There’s nothing you can do to get her there. Just take care of Grace and focus on you.”
She bit her lip and paused for a long moment. “I saw the adoption
attorney yesterday morning.”
I smiled. “Oh yeah? What did she say?”
She looked away from me. “She said if I can get Annabel to sign over her rights, I could have Grace placed with a family in the next few months.”
This news hit me like a slug to the chest.
“What?” I breathed. “I thought you were adopting her.”
She shook her head and turned back to me. “Adrian, I might not be around in a year.” Her chin quivered again. “I can’t be her mommy.” She choked on the last word.
I looked down at Grace and felt an ache in my heart that I had no right feeling.
When my eyes came back to Vanessa’s, they were anguished. “Adrian, I have to give her the best chance at stability. I hope Annabel gets clean. I hope she stays clean. But if she can’t…my life isn’t conducive to
motherhood. Especially single motherhood. I have to do what’s best for her.”
I never thought about what being a parent might mean for Vanessa’s career. She’d have to get back to the road eventually. I knew what she was doing wasn’t sustainable, and it wasn’t realistic to drag an infant all over the globe while Vanessa made videos. It was hard enough taking the baby to the store. I couldn’t imagine putting Grace on international flights and trying to keep her on a routine while Vanessa traveled. But give her up?
I dragged a hand down my mouth.
What could I even say? I wasn’t a member of the family. I wasn’t Grace’s dad. I wasn’t even Vanessa’s boyfriend. I was just the neighbor— some guy she’d met a few weeks ago who babysat sometimes. This was none of my business.
So why did it feel like something was being taken from me without my permission?
She wiped at the tears on her face and I saw the switch coming. The effort to redirect and think or do something that didn’t make her sad.
Looking away from the sun.
“Hey,” she said. “What do you think of a sleepover?”
I drew my brows down. “What?”
“Here. Tonight. My sofa has a pullout bed. It could be fun. We could stay up late watching The Office and do mud masks.”
I almost had to laugh at the irony.
I shook my head. “I wish I could. But that really wouldn’t be appropriate.”
Her face fell. “Oh. Right.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I get it.”
We stood there a moment, a weird heaviness between us. It lingered like steam from a shower.
I didn’t want to go home. But being in her apartment with the lights dimmed and her barefoot and braless and asking me to stay the night was dangerous ground.
I was keenly aware of the potential to get hurt here. I knew I was falling for a woman who didn’t want to be pursued. And continuing to put myself in intimate situations that made me wish she did wasn’t good for me. But at the same time, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to miss anything. She
made me never want to close my eyes around her. I didn’t even want to blink. I realized it at my office and on that ladder yesterday, her perfume dancing around me like lightning bugs flickering in the summer. I realized it laughing with her after her robe malfunction and sitting there next to her at her dad’s where I could feel her there like a raging bonfire, she was so warm.
She looked up at me with those big, vulnerable brown eyes and I thought again about kissing her. A part of me wanted to say fuck it and just do it, take the risk, break the rules, forget about the consequences, the possibility of losing her, and just lean in.
I let my gaze fall to her mouth. Her lips looked soft and warm. I could imagine running my hands up her shirt, around her waist, pulling her into me. I wanted to put my nose into her neck, rake fingers in her hair, taste her mouth. I wanted her to touch me.
I stared for only a second before looking anywhere but at her.
She had no idea the power she had over me—and I don’t think even I realized it until tonight. It was almost comical, Gerald declaring they had a lawyer in the family—because they did. I’d do anything she needed. She’d wrapped me around her little finger without even trying.
I’d had clients go to prison for doing something stupid at the behest of some woman and I always shook my head at their gullibility. But now I understood it. I had a feeling Vanessa could call me and ask me to help her move a body and I’d show up five minutes later with rubber gloves and
bleach.
I cleared my throat. “I should go.”
I grabbed my jacket and let myself out before I said, or worse, did, something stupid.
At midnight I lay in my own bed, a foot away from where she was probably lying in hers. It was officially her birthday. I sent her a text I’d had ready all day. A picture of a salted caramel Nadia Cakes torte that I’d gotten her with a candle in it and a text that read “Hey girl, you up?”
I heard her laugh through the wall.
She texted me, “Fuck yeah, I’m up. Come over.”
I sat up and stared at the plaster and brick between us. I wanted to come over. I wanted her to really want me to. And not for a sleepover either.
I replied with a laughing emoji. Then I rolled over and spent the next hour tossing and turning, missing her, trying to fall asleep in the wrong bed.