Storm Lines Page 2

  “I was closer,” Audrey said with a shrug. She worked downtown at a swanky investment firm. Audrey’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she grinned. “And she was mad, so she sent me.”

  “Scared mad?”

  Audrey nodded. “Oh, yeah. With a little Mama Bear mad thrown in.”

  She and Audrey and their two younger brothers, Caleb and Jamie, had categorized their mother’s versions of mad over the years. There was disappointed mad, I-raised-you-better mad, scared mad, protective mad. Grace Marlowe was a strict, loving matriarch. And she was a force to be reckoned with.

  “How long?” Marley said.

  “Ten minutes. She was already on her way down when I texted. I couldn’t hold her off any longer.”

  Marley said nothing and closed her eyes. Shit. Fucking shit god damn. The enormity of her last two days felt like a weight sitting on her chest. She pushed against it, trying to breathe, but her thoughts pushed her back to the alley, humid and hazy at six in the morning.

  Rain had been in the air, and Marley was hoping to be back at her apartment by the time it hit. It had been her day off but she’d promised to deliver a few days of groceries and was winding her way back to her car, parked this time behind the twenty-four-hour grocery store a few blocks away. She thought she was being careful. Not careful enough. They blocked her at the mouth of the alley, two figures dressed in jeans and beer logo T-shirts. They were silent, which unnerved Marley more than anything. She took two steps back as they advanced, and she caught their pale, light grey eyes. Warren brothers. Marley had helped put away their older brother two years ago for gang-related activity. The Warren brothers were exactly why she shouldn’t be in this part of town when she wasn’t on duty.

  Marley had run. She was fit and fast and unarmed. Marley never saw who had tripped her, then hauled her up by her throat and held her as the Warren brothers had punched and kicked her. Marley had fought, taking some of the sting out of their blows. But she started to weaken. That’s when she felt the knife in her side, a piercing, ripping pain.

  “Bridget? You okay?”

  Audrey’s voice startled Marley, and she opened her eyes. The hospital. Late afternoon. Stitches. Sergeant Crawford’s questions. Her mother. Her responsibility.

  “Yeah,” Marley whispered.

  Audrey stood and put herself in Marley’s line of vision.

  “You’re such a bullshitter. What happened?”

  Marley indicated she wanted more water. She took a sip, and even the room-temperature tap water felt glorious on her throat.

  “I was thinking about getting stabbed.”

  Audrey winced but held eye contact. “I don’t even know what to say to that.” Audrey’s voice sounded shaky, and Marley immediately felt bad for speaking the truth.

  “It’s just pain. I’m okay.” Marley tried to reassure her big sister. “You know I hate hospitals.” She smiled a little, the action easing a little of the memory of the morning.

  Audrey looked like she was going to take the bait. But she didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

  “They’ll make you see someone, right? A counselor or something.”

  Marley sighed again. She wanted to close her eyes, but that hadn’t ended well a few minutes ago.

  “Yes, probably.”

  They sat in silence, the noise and smell of the hospital seeming to press in on them and fill the space with a mixture of relief and worry that made Marley itch.

  Then her mother was in the room, grey hair swept back off her face and behind her ears. She managed to look serious and summery and fierce and sweet, a combination Marley knew she would never master in her lifetime.

  “Hi, Mama,” Marley said, pretending tears weren’t trying to surface. “I’m okay.”

  “Of course you are,” Grace Marlowe said. Her eyes snapped to the monitors and IV poles, the former nurse taking in the readouts with practiced precision. Her expression softened as she leaned in to kiss Marley’s forehead. “Stubborn child.”

  Marley was glad no one else was around to witness this moment. It was private, nothing to do with her job, her badge. Or her mistakes.

  “Your nurse has been in since you woke up?”

  Grace would care more about a nurse’s evaluation of Marley’s status than a doctor’s.

  “Not since I’ve been here, Mama,” Audrey answered.

  “Hmm. I know Sgt. Crawford has been in, though he was a little hazy on the details of why you were in an area of town you’ve been told to stay out of at six in the morning on your day off.”

  Only three decades of practice allowed Marley to maintain eye contact with her mother. “We’ll have a full debrief when I’m released,” she said.

  “Of course you will.” Grace closed her eyes and pinched her nose. Marley glanced at Audrey, who widened her eyes comically. Marley tried not to laugh. This was not-in-my-control mad.

  “I should be released tomorrow,” Marley said, trying to steer her mother clear of the stabbing and back to the safer subject of her recovery. “I wouldn’t mind some of your lasagna in my freezer when I get back.”

  Her mother opened her eyes and glared at Marley.

  “Bridget Vivian Doris Marlowe, don’t you push it,” Grace snapped. But her eyes were bright with humour. “You girls have been ten times the trouble of your brothers.”

  “That’s what you get for raising strong women,” Audrey said as she stood. “Here, you sit. I’m going to go grab some tea for us.”

  Once Audrey had left, Marley scratched at the bandage on her side, some of the tape pulling uncomfortably at her skin.

  “How many stitches?” Grace indicated Marley’s injury with a nod of her head.

  “Eleven,” Marley said. Grace raised her eyebrows, and Marley sighed. “Eleven epidermal and ten deep dermal.” Her mother winced and Marley’s stomach dropped. She hated doing this. But her mom would not relent until she had all the information. “It was a mess, but nothing got past the muscle layer. They’re watching me for signs of infection.”

  “And for those contusions on your neck, I imagine.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  The shared discomfort of each other’s pain filled the silence until Grace cleared her throat. “I imagine you can’t give me the details of what got you into that alley, but maybe you can share how you got out.”

  Marley wished she could. She had only been in the alley about twenty minutes, leaning against the brick wall, trying to stem the flow of blood and searching for the energy to find her phone, when the woman had showed up. Devon. Marley remembered her eyes, warm and brown. She had been so calm amidst the rain and blood and grit. Marley remembered feeling embarrassed, wanting to apologize to this professional and put together woman. I’m sorry you’re kneeling in a dirty puddle, I’m sorry my blood is on your hands. I’m sorry I can’t help myself. I’m sorry I got this wrong, again. All she’d managed to give was her name.

  “A woman walking by found me,” Marley said. “She said she worked here at the hospital, I think. Devon. She called EMS and stayed with me until the paramedics arrived.” Marley started to shrug but the tight, aching muscles in her neck stopped her. “I didn’t see her again after that.”

  “We’ll have to find her and thank her,” Grace said.

  Marley was conflicted. She very much wanted to say thank you to the woman who had helped her this morning. But the embarrassment surfaced as well, the awkward and vulnerable need to apologize. Marley closed her eyes.

  “I’m going to rest for a bit, I think,” she said to her mother. “Don’t stay here all night, okay?”

  “Sleep, love,” Grace said.

  Marley slept.

  Chapter Two

  Devon was shaking by the time her meeting at the hospital was done. She couldn’t expect much else given how this day had unfolded. She walked to the Tim Hortons kiosk outside the entry to the hospital. It was mostly frequented by patients and family, rarely by staff. Devon wasn’t hungry, but she needed something to occupy her hands
while she sorted through the chaos.

  After the cop, Marley, had been taken away by ambulance, Devon had stayed to answer the questions of two Hamilton Police officers. They had been on edge, demanding accuracy and honesty with an underlying vague threat if she didn’t comply. This was hardly surprising, given one of their own had just been rushed off to hospital. Once she’d been released from the street-side interrogation, Devon felt a sense of loss or disconnect. As she walked home to change, she evaluated this sense of loss. Perhaps she had felt so disconnected for so long, this brief and somewhat traumatic connection to Marley in the alley had made Devon feel centred and grounded—two aspects missing from her life of late.

  Devon crumbled the too dry cheese biscuit she was holding, annoyance surfacing in the flick of her fingers. Perfect. More evidence that the only time I’m centred is when I’m reaching out, when I’m taking my energy and supporting others. Devon took a sip of her green tea and cursed. Too hot. She put her tea down with a little too much force and some splashed over her hand. Enough. Pull yourself together.

  Leaving her tea until her hands had stopped shaking, Devon pulled out her phone, opened a news app at random, and started scrolling. She breathed, pulling air deeply into her lungs, expanding her diaphragm with slow, measured breaths. It was a technique she often taught to others to manage anxiety or stress when out in public. Controlling Your Nervous System 101, Devon thought. She felt a little calmer in a few moments, and her hands didn’t seem to be shaking quite so much.

  Devon glanced outside as an ambulance, silent but with its lights flashing, pulled into the lane and disappeared from view. It was raining lightly now, and the afternoon sun pushed its way in filmy swaths through the clouds. It would be nice to get a little sun on the walk home. More than anything, Devon wanted to be home and out of these clothes and away from people, comments, and questions. She had one more month of leave to learn how to stop hating being out of her house.

  “Devon? Hey, Tiger! Haven’t seen you in ages.”

  Devon flinched at the sound of her nickname, her muscles tensing so much her stomach hurt. She looked up to see Leo, a nurse from the trauma unit.

  “Hey, Leo.” Devon thought she sounded calm, even managing a smile. “It’s good to see you.”

  Devon could feel herself gathering the energy to build a wall of wellness around her, an illusion of calm and competence, ready to absorb whatever she needed to help others feel more comfortable.

  Leo tugged at the bike helmet swinging from the strap on his backpack and ran a hand through his hair. Devon had been off work for five weeks now and hadn’t been in once to see her colleagues. This first, accidental meeting was awkward. Devon breathed through the impulse to allay his discomfort. Sweet Jesus, this is hard.

  “You’re good?” Leo said. “I mean, even the Zen Tiger needs some time, I guess.”

  Integrating a workplace wellness plan into a busy city ER had not been easy. After the staff had begun to accept her, though, they’d nicknamed her Zen Tiger. Chill but with a hint of no bullshit, as one of the nurses had described her.

  Devon smiled at Leo, a real smile this time. She appreciated his bringing up her absence instead of dancing around it.

  “I’m working on being good. I’m getting there.” Devon chose to believe this was an expression of hope rather than a lie about how well she was coping.

  Leo’s smart watch beeped and he checked it. “I gotta go. Stop by and see the gang when you’re up to it. We miss having you around.”

  Devon waved as he walked away, the metal of his cycling shoes clinking down the hallway. Ash would be happy with this day, Devon thought. Successfully leaving the house, coming to the hospital, navigating an interaction with a colleague.

  There was something left, though. She hadn’t gone directly home after meeting with HR about her leave of absence because Marley was somewhere in the hospital. And Devon wanted to see her.

  Devon grabbed her still hot tea and began walking. The reddish brown takeout cup with the familiar Tim Hortons logo was camouflage more than anything. Devon needed a concrete reminder of who she was in this space. A visitor at the hospital. She had a purpose and a goal, and she looked just like everyone else. Even if she didn’t feel it.

  One of the officers had left a voice mail with Devon while she’d been in the meeting with HR. He said he’d need her to sign some paperwork in the next few days and had mentioned Constable Marlowe was doing well and was being admitted overnight. He also mentioned the constable would like to thank her in person. Devon thought now seemed like the right time. Put all the hard stuff in one day, then she could go home. Devon had a dark suspicion she wouldn’t be leaving home for a few days after this. She shook her head, wiping sudden sweat from her forehead. Maybe a call to Ash wouldn’t be the worst idea.

  General Admitting was a maze, but Marley had come to know almost every corner of this hospital in the last five years. She was attached to the trauma unit but also consulted and connected to other teams, especially those who worked closely with the ER. It was a part of the mandate she’d pushed for, to move beyond the silos of health care specialties and try to make the units more cohesive and functional. This not only eased the burden on individual units but also added to the sense of hospital unity Devon was working so hard to achieve.

  The third floor was quieter than Devon had expected. Nurses pushed med carts with practiced efficiency and singular focus. Devon waited for a nurse behind the desk to look up from her computer, a process that required patience and remembering her needs were not more important than the nurse’s current focus.

  “I’m looking for Bridget Marlowe?”

  “Room 208, love,” the nurse said, then went back to typing.

  “Thank you.”

  Devon’s stomach churned with anxiety as she checked the room numbers down the hallway. She stopped and took a sip of her tea, working on a mantra in her head. Five minutes, check in, say you’re welcome, act okay, act okay, act okay. Maybe not the best mantra, but she needed something.

  Devon stepped cautiously into room 208. An officer stood beside the bed of a pale but alert Marley. Devon prepared herself to take a step back, not wanting to interrupt.

  “Hey,” Marley said, her eyes brightening as she saw Devon. “My rescuer.”

  Devon smiled. “I wanted to check in on you. But I don’t want to interrupt.”

  “No, no,” Marley said, motioning for Devon to come in. She winced and leaned back into the pillows at her back. “Oof. Okay, so add waving to the list of things I can’t do right now.”

  The officer laughed. He was a young guy, generically handsome in a way that often made Devon suspicious. “That list is getting long.”

  Marley lifted one hand off her side and gave him the finger. “Oh good,” she said. “That still works.” Marley looked back to Devon. “Come in. It’s Devon, right? My memory is a little hazy from this morning.”

  Devon walked to the other side of the bed, feeling awkward, like she was taking up too much space. “Yes, it’s Devon. Devon Wolfe.”

  Marley looked up at Devon, her grey eyes direct. “Thank you, Devon. You really saved my butt this morning.”

  “You’re welcome, Marley,” Devon said quietly. The moment felt intimate again, like this morning. They were total strangers with too many intimate moments between them already. Devon needed distance. “You look like you’re on the mend.”

  “Stitched and pumped full of antibiotics and pain meds. And ready to get out of here.”

  The officer snorted. “Rushing home for bed rest. Sounds thrilling.”

  “Ugh,” Marley groaned. “Bed rest.” She motioned at the officer. “Devon, this is Constable Stills. We mostly call him Superman.”

  Devon and Constable Stills exchanged polite nods and hellos. Stills turned back to Marley, who was trying unsuccessfully to adjust her sitting position.

  “Oh yeah, you’re off duty for a good few weeks,” he said.

  Marley seemed to stiffe
n. “Fuck, that’s a long time,” Marley said, staring down at her bandages.

  “What, you’ve got something to do in the next few weeks?”

  “No, I just…I hate being forced out of commission.”

  Devon knew what that felt like, but she held her silence. She was also intrigued by her suspicion that Marley was hiding something. But it didn’t matter. This wasn’t her job.

  “I don’t want to interrupt your visit,” Devon said, stepping away from the bed. “I just wanted to see you were okay.”

  “Wait,” Marley said, with a hint of panic in her voice. Devon held still and waited. “If you could stay for a few minutes? I know I’ve already pretty much messed up your day.” She looked down at Devon’s clothes. Devon had showered and changed after Marley had been taken away in the ambulance. “And your pants. I must have ruined those. I can pay for those.”

  Devon held up a hand. “Hey, no. You’re fine, really. And yes, I can stay for a bit longer if you like.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d completely thought them through. She waited for the spear of panic, but all she felt was a waver in her belly, nothing more.

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s my cue,” Stills said, pulling on his Hamilton PD ball cap. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.” He tipped his head toward Devon. “Thanks for saving her bacon today. She’s a pain in the ass but she’s one of us.”

  Marley tried to swat the officer but seemed to think better of it. He laughed and walked to the door. “Wait, one more thing,” he said, before leaving the room. “What the hell were you doing out in the east end? Crawford never said.”

  Marley blinked twice. “I was dropping off food to the Mission.”

  The officer cocked his head. “At six in the morning?”

  Marley shrugged. “I was awake. And their breakfast program starts at seven.”

  The officer nodded like he understood. He gave a lazy salute. “Marley Saves the World, my favourite show. Catch you later.”

  They were alone again. Devon studied the perfectly made up, empty bed in the next cubicle. She wondered how long until Marley had a roommate. She wondered what she was still doing here. She wondered why Marley had just lied to her fellow officer.