My head snapped up when Dax pawed at the door, and when I pulled it open, he danced around, needing to be let out.
I sniffed and then rubbed my face with both hands. “Give me a minute, okay?”
I padded to the bedroom and hurried to get dressed. I passed the kitchen, barely giving it a second glance. My stomach growled in protest, but I couldn’t imagine sitting down to a leisurely meal knowing Avery was still in the hospital.
Exhaustion and skipping meals were beginning to take their toll. My body felt weighted by sand as I dragged myself around our small home. I patted my pockets and turned on my heels to search the bedroom for my wallet. I passed Penny’s nursery on the way and froze in her doorway. A sinking feeling overwhelmed me. My selfishness had hurt her, too.
I backed out into the hallway and trudged down the hall. After finding my wallet, I made my way back to the front door. Dax panted as I latched his leash to his collar. His nails tapped against the wooden flooring as he walked with me outside.
I stood in the grass, waiting for Dax to do his business. Cinda had been coming over to help out with him, but he was alone in the apartment all day. I looked down at him. “I called Cinda, buddy. You’re going to stay with her for a while. How does that sound?” The sound of my voice was even more depressing. I couldn’t even pretend for the dog.
With his back legs, Dax scratched at the grass and then shook his entire body.
“Good boy,” I said, reaching down to pat his back.
My cell rang in my pocket and I pulled it out, fumbling to answer Quinn’s call.
“Is she awake?” I blurted out, prepared for disappointment.
“You need to get back here, man.”
“What happened?” I said, sounding more accusatory than I meant.
“She’s awake … I just … Get back here, Josh. Leave now.”
I could hear voices in the background. Crying. Shouting.
“I’m sorry, Avery. You’re too upset,” a voice called out in the background.
“Is that Doc Rose?” I asked. “What’s going on?
“You’re damn right I’m upset! Don’t do this! Please! Please!” Avery begged. My heart hammered against the wall of my chest at the sound of her voice in the distance.
“She’s awake. Thank God,” I choked out in relief. I held the phone to my ear, raking back my hair with the other hand.
“He just needs a little more time. Just a little more time.” Her fear was palpable.
“Is she … is she okay?” I asked Quinn, tugging Dax up the steps to our front door. “Did she wake up confused?”
I scrambled to find the right key and then shoved it in the lock, opening the door just long enough for Dax to run in, still attached to his leash.
I ran to the garage, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder while I twisted the ignition. “You still there, Quinn?”
“Yeah. Yeah, but …”
“But what? I’m in the car. Does she not want me there?”
“Yeah,” he breathed out. “She definitely wants you here. That’s the only sense she’s making.”
“Tell her I’m on my way.”
“I can’t.”
I dropped the phone into my lap, tapping speakerphone. The SUV revved as I backed out of the drive and onto the street. “What do you mean you can’t?”
“She’s not listening to anyone. She’s combative. She’s saying weird shit.”
“Like what?” I asked, pressing on the gas. My eyebrows pulled together. I had feared so much that she wouldn’t wake up or wouldn’t come home if she did. It hadn’t occurred to me the millions of other problems she could have. “Has the doc ordered a CT? Maybe there’s swelling,” I said, swallowing hard. “It could be a brain bleed. He needs to run tests. Now.”
“He’s not going to take orders from me, Josh. You know that,” Quinn said, sounding half worried, half frustrated. “She’s … she keeps asking you to wake up.”
“What?”
“She keeps saying it over and over. She wants you to wake up.” He began imitating her. “‘Wake up, Josh. Listen to my voice. Come back to me. I need you to wake up.’ Her eyes are wide open, man. It’s like she’s talking to you, but you ain’t here. It’s … you just need to get here.”
“Wake up?” I asked. “She’s asking me to wake up?”
“Wake up,” Quinn said, over and over. “It’s time for you to wake up.”
I clicked my nails on the table, staring out the window at the street outside. A Buick was parked in place of Josh’s SUV. Quinn said Josh wouldn’t be able to drive the Barracuda. It was bent and crumpled in a salvage yard next to the Prius.
There were a few lucky, blissful nights I dreamed of Josh, but it was nothing like before. His face was blurred, his voice not quite as comforting as I remembered.
“Avery?” Deb called from the kitchen. She brought me a bowl of steaming soup, setting it on the table. “Avery,” she chided, “if you get like this every time I bring news about Josh, I can’t keep doing it. It’s not good for you.”
“No,” I said, snapping out of my stare. “It’s okay. I want to know.”
“I thought you’d be happy. Helping people is what he does. His dad donating his organs just makes sense out of all this.”
I swallowed. “Planning for his death before he’s dead is wrong. He’s not dead. However you look at it, Josh protected me. Now he’s spare parts.” I thought about my Prius and shivered.