Beautifully Broken

“Good. I need something.”

“Anything.” She sounds desperate, fearful she’ll lose the fractured relationship she believes we have. At least it's something, better than the emotionless robot I had a minute ago.

“I need you to pay all of Piper’s medical bills. She doesn’t have insurance and I don’t want her to wipe me clean.”

Mother sits back in her chair, one eyebrow raised. “You really care for this girl, don’t you?”

“I love her mom. And if you love me, you’ll do this for us.”

“Us?”

How fucking dense is my she? “Yeah, us. If Piper pulls through, I plan on marrying her.”

Mother wipes a tear from her eye. She’s got this proud parent look, that she doesn’t deserve. “I’ll stop by the insurance office before I leave and put my card on file for her. She’ll probably need rehabilitation services to. Call me when your girlfriend is ready and I’ll get her into the best facility.”

I set my hand on the table, palm up. A peace offering. Mother smiles and squeezes it, then stands. “I should get going. My flight’s in a few hours.”

As pissed as I was to see my mother, we were having a moment. Our first one in I don’t know how many years. I’m kind of disappointed she’s leaving so fast. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah. You don’t need me here. Gretchen’s at the house. She’ll take care of you.” With a quick hug, Mother turns away. I watch her follow the signs to the payment area then make my way back to the ICU waiting room. There’s no change in Piper’

s condition. So, under the insistence of Mamma T, I head home.

31

Rex

The house smells like spiced meat, peppers, and onions when I walk in. I drop my keys on the counter and saunter over to sit at the kitchen island. I rest my head on my arms amidst the bowls of sliced peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, and cheese. Today was a disaster of epic proportions. My girlfriend is fighting for her life and I’ve been disowned by my father because I’m not actually his kid. I want a drink but refrain from making a Jack and Coke because I need to be clear headed. I can’t drive to the hospital if I’m drunk, even if it does make the pain go away.

“Ay, Dios Mio, my love. You look like death has become you.”

I lift my head. Gretchen—who only started learning Spanish last year—crosses the room and wraps her arms around me. Her tiny arms envelope me until the tears I’ve fought all day break free. She holds me until they dry up, and she keeps holding me until I finally pull away.

“It’s weird hearing you speak Spanish” I say wiping my nose with the corner of my shirt sleeve.

“And it’s weird seeing you so torn up. Are you hungry?” Her tired eyes search my face. I don’t know what she sees but she pulls me in for another hug. “I missed you after you left. That big house isn’t the same without you making messes in it.”

I try to laugh, but it’s choked on a sob. I did make messes. Huge messes with my friends. We ate everything in sight, partied like there was no tomorrow and never cleaned up. I knew Gretchen would take care of it but didn’t realize until now how fucked that was. Gretchen’s pretty much my mom, not my maid. “Sorry about all that.”

She pushes me upright and walks around the counter, fixing me two hard tacos. “Don’t be. Kids are supposed to make messes and have fun. When you get to my age, fun is watching a movie at home with a glass of wine then going to bed early.”

A memory of curling up on the couch with Piper, her falling asleep on my lap during the first movie we watched together, pops into my head. I bite my lip, forcing the tears to stay hidden, and swallow the knot in my throat. I’d trade everything, the money, my career, hell even my life to do that again with her. The thought of moving on is crippling. I don’t think I can do it. “That sounds like a good night to me.”

Gretchen slides the plate across the island to me. “She’ll be fine, Rex. Piper’s doctors know what they’re doing. She. Will. Be. Okay.”

I nod and reach for a taco. I’m not hungry anymore. Mother’s announcement was the icing on the shit cake that is today. But Gretchen has a rule, if she went through the effort to make it, then you're eating it. The shell crunches in my mouth. Tacos may seem simple, but right now, they’re the best damn tacos I’ve ever had. Hungry or not, these suckers taste amazing.

My phone dings, then dings again, and again.

Cooper: Found Bane. His dad did a number on him but he’s alive.

Cooper: Barely.

Cooper: Following the ambulance to tell the nurses everything I can.

Mamma T: Piper’s through the worst of it. They’re pulling her out of the coma soon.

I drop my taco and stand. Without saying anything I turn, crossing the kitchen in three long strides to grab my keys.