When You Were Mine Read online

  "Cathy's back in the hospital."

  She shakes her head, as if she doesn't want to hear what she thinks might be coming next.

  "Oh, no, I'm not crying about that. Emily said she doesn't know how Cathy is, since they're still in the ER."

  I feel bad now, since Cathy definitely deserves as much tears as my personal drama. If she can't talk, what does that say about the stroke? Did she have another one, or did they let her go home from the hospital too early?

  "I caught the Emily part, but would really like to know why she was the one calling you."

  She didn't explain that part, but all I can figure is that Michael was going to be with his mom and dad, but didn't want to keep me out of the loop. Emily, who is as sweet and understanding as anyone's fiancée could be, offered to call.

  I don't think I could do that in her shoes.

  "Not sure, but she was really nice about it. I hate to say it, but I'm glad that if he's with anyone but me, it's with someone like her."

  It sounds a little convoluted to my ears, but my sister understands. She just doesn't agree.

  "That's stupid. Wait, listen."

  I'm shaking my head, laughing a little as the tears keep coming, slowly but steadily.

  She doesn't let me answer her accusation.

  "You two belong together. Believe me, I know. I grew up watching you, like watching some sort of fairytale. You were perfect together, and if you think he doesn't agree, you're wrong. He looks at you the same way he always has, as if you haven't been gone for nearly a year."

  I sigh and suck in a breath, forcing myself to stop crying and listen to her. After all, she had a front and center seat to my emotional breakdown when I wouldn't let anyone else in last year, and if anyone knows more about me or my relationship with Michael, I can't think of who that might be.

  "It's not that simple, Sydney. There are other people involved now, and I don't want to hurt Emily. She doesn't deserve that."

  "Oh," she shakes her head as she walks over to the stove, grabbing a fork from the silverware drawer and using it to poke around at the lasagna noodles in the pot. "It's much better if she marries a man who is in love with another woman."

  Her sarcasm is almost unkind, but I know she doesn't mean it that way. Just a huge dose of reality, one that reinforces my thought that this isn't a simple situation of revisiting the past and righting an old wrong.

  "I want to go to the hospital, but Emily's there, and I don't want to cause any problems."

  It's only when I speak the words that I realize what I want, and it's not to stay here building a lasagna. Would Michael want me to be with him right now, when he has Emily at his side?

  "You'll be sorry if you don't."

  Sydney dumps the water out of the pot into the sink, then pulls the partially cooked noodles out, shaking the water from them and tossing them into the trash in the cabinet beneath.

  "Why are you so smart, when I'm supposed to be the big sister?"

  "You are the big sister, but I've never been crazy in love like you, so I have a more clear picture of what's going on. Unclouded by love, you could say."

  I can only hope that one day her vision will be overwhelmingly blurry with a love of her own, but with the sense to handle it much better than I ever have.

  "Get out of here. I'll finish this, since I don't have distractions and actually, I need some time away from the lovey dovey stuff going on between Mom and Dad. I wonder if they were like this when she was pregnant with us."

  The affection between our parents is obvious but sweet, but I don't argue with her.

  "You'll be a great big sister."

  I kiss her on the cheek, then peek into the living room to tell our parents where I'm going. They ask me to pass on an offer to help with anything Michael and Mark need, and I hurry to shove my feet into my shoes and leave the house, sure if I stop to think about what I'm doing for the briefest moment I'll question it.

  Emily doesn't know that I'm coming, and Michael doesn't know about our conversation. What am I walking into?

  Chapter Twenty Six

  My hair is still damp from my shower, clinging to my head just barely by a plastic clip that is too small. It worked fine while I was at home, but since I've been rushing and at one point, hit the top of my pile of hair on the car as I was getting into it, the whole stack is wobbly.

  It's the least of my worries after I park my car in the hospital visitor's lot and make the trek to the emergency room.

  For a small town, we're lucky to have an actual hospital, and not just an urgent care. Sure, it's on the border and nearly in the next town, so it serves a larger population, but it saves a lot of time when something goes wrong.

  Like now.

  Before I reach the front desk, I hear a familiar voice call my name.

  Michael.

  I turn to find him standing beside Emily, who is sitting in one of the red plastic chairs lined up in neat rows in the waiting area. She's watching him, her expression wistful.

  What does she see?

  When I walk quickly over to them both, I fight the urge to throw myself in Michael's arms. He, however, has no trouble drawing me into a quick hug, and I long to lean into him and hold tighter.

  "I wasn't expecting to see you here. I thought you'd be hard at work on that lasagna."

  His laugh is a little forced, but he does sound surprised.

  "I knew you would come."

  Emily's voice captures both of our attentions, but she's wearing a tiny smile that makes her look like a little girl. A little sad, a little tired.

  Her usual glow is dimmed, and I hope I'm not the reason for it. She's only ever been nice to me, and I can't imagine how difficult that must be in light of our circumstances.

  "How's your mom?"

  He takes my hand and leads me to the chair beside him, so Emily and I are sitting with him between us.

  This is as awkward as I imagined it would be.

  Michael's hand is in his hair and the familiar gesture makes me smile even as I worry about him.

  Would it have been better if I kept away, and left him to Emily's very capable assistance?

  Coming here was for both of us, and I can't deny that I'm by his side now as much as for my sake as his.

  If he can't see it, Emily definitely can.

  "A stroke, and yesterday's might have been one, too. They said sometimes it's hard to tell one from a mini-stroke."

  He's still holding my hand, but he's also holding Emily's, too. She glances over at me and blinks a few times, and I see her chest move in a silent sigh.

  "Don't worry, you'll still get your lasagna tomorrow. Sydney's working on it now, and I guarantee it will be better than I could ever make. I couldn't even cook the noodles right."

  I start babbling to fill the silence that grows between us, and Michael laughs again, shaking his head.

  "My dad and I appreciate that. Both that we're getting a lasagna, and that your sister is making it instead of you."

  "Hey," I protest, smiling and shoving him a little with our joined hands. Emily sits back in her chair and turns her attention to the television mounted to the wall, the sound turned down all the way so I didn't even notice it was on until now.

  Michael stands up suddenly, letting both my hand and Emily's go, and I follow his gaze to find his dad standing in the open area that leads down a hallway. His face is so pale and blank that I wonder if something awful has happened, something worse that he will have to share with Michael.

  "Wow, you certainly are getting a lot of attention, aren't you?"

  Mark walks towards us as if he's exhausted, slowly with uneven steps, but he's teasing Michael like he doesn't want him to worry.

  How can either of them not?

  "What's going on?"

  He doesn't respond to his father's teasing observation, and his fingers tighten around mine. I've never seen him so stressed, so upset, and even if it feels right for me to be here to support him, I'm worried about prob
lems it may cause for him with Emily.

  She knows how I feel, even if he doesn't.

  "Definitely going to admit her, and we'll go from there. She's asleep now, so you can go home and try to get some rest yourself."

  Michael looks first at me, then at Emily.

  "I'm staying here with my parents, so as much as I like having you here, it's getting late and I know how busy you both are."

  I don't think he's ever had a reason to accuse me of being busy, and it feels good to hear him say it now. Before Emily or I can respond, Mark holds up a hand in front of him, shaking his head.

  "Oh, no. She's sleeping, and I'll be right beside her. You need to be home and in your own bed, or if I know you, you won't get any sleep at all."

  Michael takes a step forward, and I let go of his hand. Once he's closer to his father, pushing his father's hand away, I see that Emily has done the same.

  But she's not saying anything. She isn't offering to drive Michael home, or to stay with him.

  The idea of her doing so, of spending the night with him . . .

  "Girls, can you help, please? One of you can bring him home, can't you? And convince him to go in the first place, since he isn't listening to me."

  I stand and force myself to smile.

  "I should get going, too. Sydney's making that lasagna, so at least I could show up to wash the dishes, right?"

  Mark nods to me, and I'm not sure if he's in agreement, or glad that I might be leading the way for Michael to follow suit.

  But I don't offer to drive him home. That's Emily's prerogative, as the woman he intends to marry.

  I don't look at Michael or Emily, and only smile at Mark quickly before walking away. I'm nearly at the automatic doors to the entrance when Emily, of all people, grabs my arm and turns me around. I stumble a little and she lets go.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so rough. You were pretty abrupt back there, and I wanted to talk to you tonight, since you showed up."

  I stare at her, surprised that she's followed me, and unable to find an answer. What does she want to talk to me about? I think her question on the phone earlier was answered honestly and simply, so she knows where I stand.

  And that I won't get in her way.

  "I love him, but I'm not so sure he loves me enough to get married. I don't want a man who can't give me his whole heart."

  The automatic doors slide open and hold, and I realize that I'm so close to them that they won't shut. I step a little closer to Emily, and see that her eyes are a little bloodshot. Has she been losing sleep over this?

  "I don't know what to say. I gave you an honest answer on the phone earlier, but that doesn't have anything to do with how Michael feels. I promise you that he hasn't said anything to me. Not about this. About you, or me."

  I sound really stupid now, like I don't know what I'm saying or how to express my thoughts. Probably because I don't.

  She shakes her head, her big blonde curls bouncing just a little, and tucks a thick lock behind her ear.

  "He's committed to me, and I don't think he's the kind of man to break a promise like that. Do you?"

  She's right. I was the one who gave up on us over one unexplained kiss. He was the one who persisted in trying to contact me and make things right.

  He's always taken his word very seriously, and there's no reason to think he would go back on his proposal to Emily.

  Which he wouldn't have made if he didn't love her.

  "No, I don't, but I don't think he would have asked you to marry him if he didn't want to. Or if he didn't love you."

  I catch sight of Michael in the distance, walking towards us.

  "There are different kinds of love, Jenny. I don't think what's between Michael and me could ever compare to what he shared with you."

  Michael is right behind her now, but he doesn't seem to have heard her words.

  Thankfully.

  He doesn't need this stress right now, but if Emily is going to continue to question their relationship, he will hear about it at some point. Unless she decides to take what she can get, which seems like a lot the way he takes her hand and smiles at her now.

  "Dad convinced me that he'd worry more about me here than if I left. Guilt tactics learned from my mom, I'm sure."

  When he turns to me, I stand up a little straighter and smile.

  "Let me know how she is when you get a chance tomorrow, okay?"

  Cathy is more important than any of this drama between Emily and me, so I resolve to focus on her.

  "I will. Thanks, Jenny, for coming."

  Michael takes a step forward, but I step back, watching him frown, and I hear the doors slide open behind me.

  "Of course. See you later, Emily."

  The image of the two of them, side by side with their hands held between them, clouds my mind as I walk quickly through the parking lot, holding back tears.

  Crying all the way home won't do me any good, and it will only make Sydney, and my parents, ask questions.

  I have an early morning and another long day ahead in about six hours, so I'm pleasantly surprised to find the kitchen clean with no dishes or pans in the sink.

  My sister has outdone herself.

  The foil-wrapped lasagna is visible in its glass dish, taking up a good half of a shelf in our refrigerator, and it looks perfect.

  I can hear the television, the sound much lower than usual, and walk through the living room to find my parents on the sofa, my mom's head on my dad's shoulder and a blanket pulled up around her shoulders.

  My dad's arm is around her, his cheek resting against the top of her head, and he doesn't notice me standing, watching them, until I clear my throat unnecessarily.

  Although not loud enough to disturb my mom.

  "How's Cathy?"

  When I left earlier, I gave all the information I had to my parents as well as Sydney, but hadn't texted or called any of them from the hospital, which I should have.

  "She was admitted. Seems like another stroke, but I don't know more than that."

  He looks down into my mom's face.

  "Michael's fortunate to have a good friend in you, although I don't understand why you aren't more than friends. Whatever happened between you two last year must have been terrible. It's not any of my business, but I have to say we were all shocked. I was shocked."

  This is more than he's ever said on the subject.

  "Like I said, none of my business, but it's a shame to give up a good thing. Love doesn't come along every day, and a love that lasts as long as yours did is even more rare."

  He kisses the top of my mom's head, and I wonder if he's talking about Michael and me or him and my mom.

  Or both.

  "That lasagna looks really good. You're lucky I already had my dinner or I would have chased Sydney out of the kitchen after she finished making it so I could have a piece."

  There's no doubt that piece would have been a good third of the dish, but I don't think he really would have done it, knowing who it was intended for.

  "Thanks for not tasting it. Michael and Mark are expecting it, made by me or Sydney, it doesn't matter."

  "I'm sure it doesn't, but if he's willing to eat something you cook, that says something about his feelings for you. No, wait, I'm serious."

  I toss a small pillow from the recliner beside me towards him, careful to avoid hitting my mom, and head to my room, the meaning behind his teasing words becoming clear as I move away.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Four-thirty comes way too early, and I nearly fall out of bed when the alarm on my phone rings like bells chiming.

  I have no idea how long I'll be working today, but I promise myself to get to bed early tonight to make up for lost sleep. As long as I'm busy during the day, I won't get sleepy, but once I take a break, I'll be down for the count.

  Hopefully Michael and Mark both got some rest, but I'm not going to speculate whether or not Michael slept alone.

  It's none of my business.


  Emily wouldn't bring any of our conversation up now, I hope, not with Cathy's medical problems, but how long will she wait before pressuring him to explain, or quantify, his feelings?

  She won't settle for anything less than his whole heart.

  I shake my head as I head into the bathroom to take a quick shower, just to wake up. I've never thought of marriage like that, and maybe this shows how much more mature Emily is than I am.

  If Michael had proposed to me at any point in our relationship, I would have said yes without a second thought, without considering that neither of us had shared our life goals, or long term dreams, or even talked about having children.

  After talking to Emily only a few times, I know that they've had those conversations.

  The idea of Emily pregnant with Michael's baby makes me turn off the hot water and drench myself in a numbing blast of cold.

  Shivering, I nearly trip over the side of the bathtub to grab a towel once I've turned the taps off. I have to stop letting my mind go off in all directions, when I should prioritize and focus on what's important right now.

  My family. Michael's family. Being present and helpful.

  I think that my future plans will work themselves out if I can keep my attention on the here and now, since instead of a five hour a day morning job, and endless hours open for musing over my own life, I have other people counting on me more than I ever expected.

  My smile in the mirror surprises me. Being needed is satisfying, if tiring.

  Instead of making coffee at home, I've been waiting until I get to the diner. No sense in having a bunch of cold coffee left over for everyone when they wake up in a couple of hours.

  My mom is sitting at the kitchen table, an unexpected addition to the emptiness I expect at this time of the morning.

  "Hey, are you okay?"

  She's staring down into a tiny glass of orange juice, her head propped up on one hand. When she startles at the sound of my voice, I realize that she had been falling asleep.

  "Oh, yes, sorry. I've been having trouble staying asleep for very long. An hour here, another there, but then I have to get up and move around in-between."