Cutting Ties Read online

  I knew my time was coming, though.

  Which was why I was cleaning up the afternoon bingo session as if I were wading through a pool of Jell-O.

  I heard someone approach just as I was picking up the last card. Connie appeared, pushing a wheelchair. She was a tiny thing, barely more than five feet tall, with hair so long and thick that I wondered how she didn’t get a neck ache from lugging all of that around.

  Violet, a longtime resident of Oasis Ridge who was seated in the wheelchair Connie was guiding, was already scanning the room.

  “Looking for something?” I asked.

  Violet nodded, her springy curls bobbing. “My knitting bag.” Her voice, full of croaks and warbles, was one I was sure I would never get tired of hearing.

  “Did you have it with you at bingo?”

  “Yes. I’m never without it,” she said. “Never know when I’ll have a minute to knit.”

  I bent down to search the floor and then the seats of the chairs already pushed under the tables. I spotted something on one of them, a black bag decorated with a bright red cherry pattern.

  “Is this it?” I asked, holding the bag up.

  Violet smiled. “There it is!”

  I handed it to her. The bag was surprisingly heavy, considering it supposedly just held yarn and knitting needles.

  Violet poked her head inside the bag. It looked like she was checking to make sure everything was still there.

  Connie looked around the room. “You’re still cleaning up in here?”

  “I’m just about finished.”

  “You need help?”

  “No,” I said quickly. It was a nice offer, but it was the last thing I wanted.

  “You sure?” she pressed. “I can take Violet to her room and then come back.”

  “I’m almost done,” I said. “Just need to put away the popcorn machine and get the bingo cage put back in the cupboard.”

  “Okay,” Connie said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “Are there any other activities for today? I didn’t notice anything on the calendar.”

  I moved to the popcorn machine and unplugged the cord. “Nope.”

  She raised her pencil-thin eyebrows. “So you’ll have a relaxing day from here on out.”

  I stifled a laugh. “Not quite. I have to meet with Anne at some point.”

  “How?”

  That wasn’t the question I’d been expecting. “What do you mean how?”

  “She left.”

  “She did?” I perked up. “Like for the rest of the day?”

  Connie shrugged. “I have no idea. I just know that I saw her leaving a little bit ago. I figured she had a meeting or something.”

  I couldn’t fight the smile forming on my lips. I knew I’d have to sit down with her eventually, but it looked like I’d been granted a brief reprieve.

  I was all in favor of that.

  “Well, maybe I won’t be meeting with her today, then.” I hefted the popcorn machine off the counter and carried it to the back corner of the room.

  Connie returned to Violet’s wheelchair. The elderly woman appeared satisfied that everything was still in her knitting bag.

  “Maybe you will have that relaxing day after all,” Connie said.

  “Maybe.”

  I truly didn’t think Anne had left for the day. More likely than not, she would have told me if she didn’t have plans to return, as she often defaulted to putting me in charge during her absence. But then I remembered that Bryce was here. He was technically training for her position, albeit at a different location, so if she had indeed cut out early, he would be the one she would tell. Not me.

  I crossed my fingers and hoped she really was gone for the day. I knew it was just putting off the inevitable showdown, but in this case, procrastination felt like a good thing, even if it was just for a day.

  I finished putting away the remnants of the activity, letting my mind wander. It was easy to imagine Bryce managing Oasis Ridge instead of Anne. I was convinced my job would be a heck of a lot easier if he were my supervisor. He was so agreeable, so enthusiastic, so willing to listen and to learn. I knew part of that was his job right now: he was learning. But I just got the sense from him that he would consider himself more of a partner than a boss, which was something Anne definitely did not do.

  I closed up the activity room and headed back downstairs. Sunlight streamed in through the entry door, almost blinding me as my foot left the last step. I tried to blink away the black spots dotting my vision. Outside, a police siren howled as it raced by. It was soon followed by another, this one sounding more like an ambulance.

  There was probably an accident nearby. Maybe a fire.

  For some reason, my thoughts turned to Anne. What if she’d gotten in a car accident on the way to wherever she was going? What if that was where the sirens were headed?

  Fear did not grip me at the thought of this. Not in the slightest. In fact, the only thing I felt when thinking about this imagined scenario was…relief.

  I didn’t want to see her injured, of course, but if some kind of accident kept her from reporting back to work?

  Yeah, I was pretty sure I’d be okay with that.

  The sirens faded off in the distance and I heading toward my office. I took a quick look at the Gathering Room to see what residents were visiting with each other there, and as I did my eyes swept over the receptionist area. Kelly Zerwas, our old receptionist, had obviously been let go after her involvement with June’s situation, and, after a couple of false starts, we’d finally secured a new receptionist. Lindsay was probably just a couple of years older than me—and decades younger than her predecessor—and spoke with a Southern accent that sounded as sweet as a glass of sweet tea.

  I watched as she answered the phone while smiling as a resident passed by her desk. She’d fit in immediately, and everyone, both employees and residents, treated her as if she’d always worked at Oasis Ridge.

  For all of Anne’s mistakes and missteps, hiring Lindsay as the new receptionist was one thing she’d actually gotten right.

  Lindsay slowly hung up the phone and I made sure to catch her eye as I turned to head toward my office. But something in her expression made me stop.

  I looked at her, a little more closely this time. Her blue eyes were wide with shock and the color was slowly draining from her face.

  Something was definitely wrong.

  I just didn’t know what.

  I hurried toward her desk. “Is everything okay?”

  Silently, she shook her head.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked in an alarmed voice. I had no idea if she’d gotten some bad personal news or if it was something about one of the residents or what. But her reaction was scaring me.

  “That was the hospital.”

  I swallowed, my thoughts immediately turning to the residents.

  I hadn’t heard about anyone in the hospital but that kind of news often traveled slowly, especially if other residents were unaware or if employees weren’t discussing it amongst themselves.

  “Who were they calling about?”

  Lindsay took a minute to find her voice.

  “Anne.”

  I leaned closer. “Anne?”

  She nodded. Her color hadn’t improved.

  “Is…is she okay?”

  “She’s…I don’t know.”

  “Lindsay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  The woman behind the desk swallowed. “She was in a car accident.”

  FIVE

  “A car accident?” I repeated.

  Lindsay nodded.

  “What did they say?” I suddenly felt a little lightheaded. “Who did you talk to?”

  “She’s at the hospital. St. Luke’s.” Her voice shook. “A sprained wrist and a concussion, they think.”

  Guilt flooded me. Not moments ago, I’d actually been wishing for something to happen to Anne. The thought of her being in a car accident had literally crossed my mind.

  And now it had hap
pened.

  A small part of me worried that I had some weird supernatural power; that I somehow had the ability to make bad things happen. Maybe I was the new Carrie. I tried to remember what Sissy Spacek did in that movie…had she caused any car accidents? But my memories were fuzzy, and mostly centered on her in her prom dress being dumped with blood.

  “She sounded a little out of it,” Lindsay said.

  “Wait. You actually talked to her?”

  She nodded.

  For some reason, this made me feel marginally better. If Anne had felt well enough to call, it probably meant she wasn’t too badly injured.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. Just sort of…fuzzy.”

  Hmm. Sort of like my memories of the Carrie movie.

  “Did she say anything else?” I asked.

  Lindsay shook her head.

  “Is this a party?” Aidan said from behind me.

  He and Connie were approaching the receptionist area.

  He was smiling but it soon disappeared when he saw the expression on my and Lindsay’s faces.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Anne was in an accident,” I blurted out.

  Connie’s eyes widened. “An accident? What kind?”

  “Car,” I said. “We don’t have a ton of details. Lindsay just got off the phone with her.”

  “She was able to call?” Connie asked. “That’s a good sign, right?”

  She was clearly thinking similarly to me.

  “I think so,” I said.

  Connie let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  Aidan was listening, not saying anything. I couldn’t tell whether he was concerned or not.

  “What do you think we should do?” Connie asked.

  Aidan finally spoke up. “About what?”

  She glared at him. “About Anne.”

  “What about Anne?” a new voice asked.

  Bryce had strolled up behind us. “Hello, folks.”

  I filled him in, watching as his expression changed from friendliness to shock to outright horror.

  “A car accident?” he gasped. “That’s terrible!”

  A fresh pang of guilt pinged through me.

  “Someone should go see her,” he declared. “Make sure she’s doing okay.”

  His suggestion was greeted with silence.

  “Does she have family in the area?” Lindsay asked.

  We all looked at each other. No one responded.

  Probably because no one knew the answer.

  “I’m not sure.” I finally said.

  “So that means one of us should go,” Bryce said firmly.

  When no one volunteered, he looked at me. “I nominate you.”

  “Me?” I squeaked.

  Connie and Lindsay both looked relieved by his suggestion. Aidan looked…indifferent.

  Bryce nodded. “Yes. You.”

  “But…but…” I sputtered. “I think you should be the one to go.”

  It was his turn to say, “Me?”

  “You’ve been working side-by-side with her for over a week now,” I said. “You’ve spent the most time with her.”

  “This last week, sure,” Bryce agreed. “But everyone knows you’re the person she’s closest to here.”

  I opened my mouth to object but he held up a hand, effectively cutting off my words.

  “Besides, someone needs to stay here and manage Oasis Ridge, especially now that Anne is gone.” He blinked. “I mean, gone for the time being. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

  I was barely listening.

  Because everyone around me was nodding emphatically, agreeing with Bryce.

  Which meant one thing.

  I was heading to the hospital to see Anne.

  Whether I wanted to or not.

  SIX

  I wasn’t a fan of hospitals.

  I also wasn’t a fan of being forced to visit my boss in the hospital.

  But that’s exactly what I was doing.

  St. Luke’s was a hospital within Niceville’s city limits, located about five miles from Oasis Ridge. The building was three stories, made of white stucco, with a trio of medical office buildings surrounding it that housed their specialized care doctors. There was a cancer center, a cardiovascular center, and a building that focused on orthopedic care.

  I parked in the attached garage and forced my feet forward, toward the entrance to the emergency room. The whole time, guilt circulated through me as if an IV was pumping it directly into my veins.

  I knew the accident wasn’t my fault, but that still didn’t stop me from feeling responsible. I’d gotten past the whole telekinesis thing, but that didn’t mean I was off the hook. There was plenty of evidence—okay, plenty of supposed evidence—that thinking and speaking your intentions could shape reality. Maybe I had done exactly that with my thoughts about Anne earlier in the day.

  Either way, a small part of me felt like this was all my fault.

  Which made it that much harder to continue my march toward the entrance to the ER.

  Eventually, though, I made it to the automatic doors that led into the hospital. As soon as the doors slid open, my phone buzzed. Someone was calling me from Oasis Ridge.

  “Sunny?” Lindsay’s voice was breathless.

  My heart jumped into my throat. Had Anne taken a turn for the worse?

  “Are you there yet?” she asked.

  “I just got here.”

  “Okay, good,” Lindsay said. “Anne was moved out of ER. She’s in a regular room now. 3rd floor. Room 335.”

  I forced myself to take slow breaths, trying to steady my racing pulse. She wasn’t calling with bad news.

  “Thanks for the head’s up,” I told her. “I’m on my way there now.”

  “Keep us posted on how she is,” Lindsay said. “We’re all worried about her.”

  I wasn’t sure how much truth there was to that statement, but I kept those thoughts to myself.

  “Will do.”

  I ended the call and headed to the bank of elevators. A man carrying a bouquet of balloons was struggling to get inside. I held the door open for him as he wrangled the collection of pink balloons.

  “Thanks,” he said with a weak smile. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed with dark circles, and a generous growth of stubble covered his cheeks and chin. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Congratulations,” I said, nodding to the bouquet of ‘It’s A Girl’ balloons.

  His smile widened. “Thanks. 48 hours of labor and she finally made it.”

  The elevator slowly rose, then dinged as the doors opened.

  I nodded a goodbye and exited onto the third floor.

  Finding Anne’s room wasn’t difficult. I could hear grumbling the minute I approached the door.

  I pasted on what I hoped was a passable smile.

  “Anne,” I said as I walked into the room.

  She squinted, then glared at me. “What are you doing here?”

  Her appearance took me by surprise. Dressed in a hospital gown, splayed out in a hospital bed with a brace on her left wrist, she looked vulnerable.

  And scared.

  “I came to see how you were doing,” I said.

  Her glare intensified. “How does it look like I’m doing?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that.

  Physically, she looked terrible. Her short hair was matted to her head, her complexion sallow. She didn’t have her glasses on and the way she was squinting at me made her eyes look five times too small for her face.

  I answered with a question of my own. “How is your wrist?” I asked, nodding at the brace.

  She wrinkled her nose. “It’s heavy. I can’t believe I have to wear this stupid thing.” She shifted in the hospital bed, rustling the sheets as she did so. “And I can’t believe I’m still in this stupid hospital. They should have released me hours ago.”

  “Why are they keeping you?”

  “For obse
rvation,” she said, using the fingers on her right hand to simulate air quotes.

  “For the concussion?”

  “I do not have a concussion.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with her. “I’m sure they won’t keep you too long,” I said instead.

  “Why wouldn’t they?” she asked. “I have good insurance. They know I’ll pay up for all the tests they want to run.”

  I frowned. I didn’t hold the healthcare industry in the highest esteem, but I highly doubted the doctors and nurses in charge of Anne’s care were secretly conspiring to bilk her insurance company for unnecessary tests.

  I approached the side of her bed, lowering myself uneasily into the armchair nearby. “We just wanted to make sure you are okay.”

  “We?” Anne repeated. She looked toward the door. “Who else is here?”

  “Well, no one. It’s just me.”

  But Anne was still squinting at the door. “Is that Bryce?”

  I turned around. A doctor was standing in the hall, consulting a chart. A doctor who was definitely not Bryce.

  “I don’t see him,” I said.

  Anne rubbed her eyes and sighed.

  “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?” I asked.

  She refocused on me. Or at least she tried to.

  “Should I get the doctor?” I asked, concerned.

  Slowly, Anne shook her head. “I’m fine. I just…I feel a little out of sorts.”

  I felt a tug of sympathy. It was an admission that I knew must have been hard for her.

  “I’m sure you do,” I said, with what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

  “Why are you smiling?” She gave me a disapproving look. “Are you happy I was in an accident? Are you happy I’m laid up in this hospital room?”

  “N-no. Of course not,” I stammered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Everyone was worried about you when we heard what happened. That's why I came by. To check on you.”

  She huffed out a breath.

  I folded my hands in my lap and sat awkwardly for a minute.

  I had nothing to say to this woman, and she clearly did not want me visiting her. Someone else should have come; someone she was closer to.

  Except there wasn’t anybody.

  Even I knew this.

  “Do you have any idea how long they want to keep you here?” I ventured.