The Summer I Fell (The Six Series) Read online

  My phone had rang a couple of times while I’d been armpit deep in a cow while helping Dr. Anderson, and I wasn’t able to answer it. By midday, I’d missed four calls from the same unknown number that had called me a few days before. When we got back to the clinic, I scrubbed my hands again with antimicrobial soap and changed my cow shit-stained shirt with a T-shirt Dr. Anderson gave me. When I stepped out of the bathroom, my phone went off again.

  “Riley?” Dr. Anderson called to me from the back where he kept all his overnight patients. “I need your help.”

  I dismissed the phone call and ran towards the sound of his concerned voice.

  We were a flurry of activity over the next hour, trying to save the twelve-year-old Australian Shepard that belonged to a little boy named Sam. Nothing we did worked. It was as if the dog was ready. It was his time. We had to let him go with a little peace and a whole lot of tears.

  I swiped at my face and bit my lip to keep from sounding like a blubbering baby.

  “I wish I could say it gets easier, Riley. But it really doesn’t. We just have to comfort ourselves in knowing that we did everything we could. It was just his time. Why don’t you head on home and get some rest while I talk to the family? You’ve worked your ass off these last few days with me. Now I need you to rest. Okay?”

  I nodded and backed out of the room. Could I really handle a job where no matter what I did, I could never save them all?

  I left out the back door, more like escaped, and drove home, not remembering even getting in my truck, let alone starting it. Letting myself into the house, I made my way to the stairs, and my phone rang. It was that unknown number again, and whoever it was—they were persistent. I slid my finger across the screen and answered.

  “Ms. Clifton?” I’d never heard the person on the other end of the line before.

  “Yes, this is Riley Clifton.” My mind raced as I waited for what he said next.

  “This is Dr. Steiner. I’m the head Cardiologist at Houston General. I’m calling because your father was a patient of mine for the last couple of weeks.”

  I lowered myself to sit on the stairs. My hand gripped the phone, as dread settled into my stomach.

  “Miss, are you still there?” The soft-spoken voice he used made me break into a cold sweat.

  “Is everything okay with my dad?” I gripped the phone in my hands until I heard the plastic crack.

  “I’m very sorry to have to do this over the phone, Ms. Clifton, but it was your dad’s last instructions.”

  “Last instructions?” There had to be some sort of mistake.

  “Your father was admitted into Houston General after coming in with the compliant of having chest pains. Upon his admittance, he had a mild heart attack. He underwent surgery to clear the blockage we’d found in an MRI. Unfortunately, his heart became weakened, and we were unable to save him on the operating table.”

  My hand clamped over my mouth, as my keening cries ripped from my throat. How could my dad have not told me? Why would he keep it from me? I could have been there. I could have…

  “Ms. Clifton? Once again, I’m very sorry to have to tell you like this. However, I need to inform you of the rest before we hang up.” He never paused, probably knowing he’d shocked me and wrecked me all at the same time. “Your father insisted on a Living Will before he underwent surgery. In his will, it asked us to only contact you in the chance he did not survive the surgery. All of the medical costs have been covered by his insurance provider. If you receive any bills, please contact the insurance company and they can help you sort it out. I know this is a lot to take in. Please understand he only wanted to make this process as easy as possible for you. I just need you to know that before I tell you what his last and final instructions were.”

  I swallowed the acid crawling up my throat and pushed myself to say something in reply. “I under—I understand.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Clifton. In his last instructions, he has listed the following. I am to remind you of the locked box in his closet. In it will be all the paperwork you’ll need for the house and his life insurance policies. Your father chose to be cremated. His remains have been sent off, and I’m waiting for the cremains to be shipped back here to the hospital, or to you if you prefer.”

  I bit my cheek until I tasted blood. “Me… I want him sent to me.”

  “Of course. I’ll get the paperwork submitted and have your father’s cremains sent to you. Please know that I personally wish you the best. I had the honor of speaking with your father before his surgery. He was a very nice man who loved you very much.”

  That angered me a little. How dare he tell me how my father felt? How dare he be the one that spent my father’s final days with him? It should have been me. Not him. “Don’t act like you knew anything about him. Don’t tell me how good he was when he couldn’t even bother telling me what was going on. He kept himself from me. He kept me from being able to tell him I loved him… from being able to say goodbye!”

  I hurled my phone across the room and it hit the wall, flying apart in pieces.

  I shot off the stairs. Oh God… Oh God… I shouldn’t have done that! Why did I do that? I slammed my hands against my head as I buckled to the floor, rocking my body as I let go and wrapped my arms around my legs. How was I supposed to know when they’d ship what was left of my dad? How would I get back in touch with the doctor? My phone was shattered. Would they be able to retrieve the number he’d called from? I had to get to the store I’d bought my phone from. I needed a new phone. I needed the doctor’s number. I needed to get up off the floor and stand up. I just couldn’t. My arms wouldn’t unlock from my legs, because if they did, and I stood up and grabbed my keys, it meant I had to buy a new phone because I’d smashed my old one. I’d smashed it because the doctor on the other end of the phone had said my dad was dead. My dad couldn’t be dead. He was all I had left of my family.

  My sobs strangled me. I couldn’t breathe past them. It had to be a bad dream. I’d just fallen asleep. I’d wake up, and it would all have just been a nightmare brought on from losing a patient. A beautiful Australian Sheppard that belonged to a little boy named Sam.

  “RILEY!” MY SHOULDER WOBBLED, AND I lifted my head. Mary, Ace’s mom, looked down at me. Concern etched the corners of her eye and bracketed her mouth, as she slipped her hand under my chin. “What happened?”

  My arms were locked around my legs. My back ached, and my ass was numb all the way to my feet. My eyes darted around as I tried to figure out why I was sitting on the floor. Pieces of my phone were strewn across the tile as if it had exploded. In that moment, it all rushed back at me. My dad was dead.

  Ace’s mom pulled me into her arms and ran her hands along my hair, as she used her other hand to pull my locked fingers apart. When my arms dropped into her lap, she picked one hand up and rubbed the circulation back into it. “Talk to me, Riley. What’s wrong?”

  I pushed the explanation out between hitched breaths and what felt like a closed-off windpipe. “…dad. His doctor called… heart attack. Shipping his remains.”

  I broke, and she held on to me. My arms and legs were useless until the circulation came back. When it did, pinpoints of pain raced along almost the entire length of my body, making breathing in and out send live wires through me, until the blood flowed through my veins properly.

  Ace’s mom stayed right there with me, moving me to the couch when she knew I could stand up with her assistance. She draped a blanket over me to help with the chill that wracked my body and slid a pillow under my head to give me some sort of comfort. I could see her every so often as she floated in and out of my fixed stare. The worry on her face made me feel even worse. I just didn’t have the inner strength to convey to her that I’d be okay. I had to be okay. My dad would be coming home… coming home in a box soon, and I needed to be able to meet him at the door.

  I heard her hushed tone as she made phone calls from another room. The sound of her moving around in the kitchen. The do
orbell when it rang and she opened it for whoever was on the other side. It wouldn’t be my dad yet.

  I felt Paige’s hand on my shoulder, saw her hovering in front of me. Staring at me, willing me to say something. Anything. I just couldn’t. If I did, it would make me force myself back to reality. I wasn’t ready for reality; I needed the numbness I’d wrapped around me.

  My eyes closed and opened. Each long blink blended one day into the next, blissfully cutting me off from the sorrow and hurt that had taken me in its talons and ripped me open.

  Paige and Mary stayed by my side. I heard them talk to pass the time. Ace’s graduation had come and gone. Where was he? He’d said he had leave after he graduated, but he hadn’t shown up. And I hadn’t asked. Was he mad that I didn’t make it to his graduation? Was he angry with me because his mom had stayed to watch over my still form, while everyone else around me carried on about their days?

  The doorbell rang, and I knew who it was before Paige or Mary could announce them. I shoved the blankets off me and stood up on shaky legs. They fell in behind me, ready to catch me should I lose my balance. I’d be damned if I couldn’t make it to the door to greet my dad.

  I turned the doorknob and jerked the door open, not looking at the man standing there, only at the box he held in his hands with a clipboard resting on top of it. “If I could get you to sign here, ma’am?” He went to set the box down, and I grabbed his arm.

  He stopped and shifted uncomfortably.

  Paige reached past me, grabbed the clipboard, and handed it, and the pen, to me. I scribbled my name and she took it back, so that I could take the box from the stranger’s hands. It was heavy as I wrapped my arm around it and carried it to the couch. When I sat down, I placed the box beside me and put my hand over the top of it. My dad was finally home where he belonged.

  Paige slid a wooden TV table in front of me and set a glass of orange juice down on it. “I’ll bring you some soup.”

  I looked up at her when she stepped back. I wasn’t sick. I didn’t need orange juice or soup. I needed my dad. Not a box of what remained of him.

  “Please, Riley. Drink the juice,” Mary said as she handed Paige some crackers and walked back to the kitchen.

  I picked the glass up. It was the least I could do for all she’d done for me.

  Sweetness exploded on my taste buds, and my mouth watered from the small sip I’d taken.

  Paige sat down across from me in the recliner my dad always sat in when he watched the news. I put the glass back down and pressed my hands together in my lap.

  “I talked to the guys,” Paige said. I darted a look at her, and she gave me a pained smile. “They said they’d come home if you want them too.”

  My shoulder hitched up in an attempt at a shrug.

  “Don’t do that, Riley.” Paige’s voice came out as a hiss, and I shrank back against the couch. “No, don’t you dare sink back into whatever had a hold of you until the doorbell rang. Do you hear me? I won’t let you do this to yourself! Cry, yell, throw things, but damn it, don’t you dare slip off to some place I can’t reach you.”

  Paige had moved the table from in front of me and fell to her knees, grabbing my hands. She squeezed our hands together and pulled me towards her. Warmth crept into my fingertips as she anchored me in the present. Anchored me to her. A low, keening wail worked its way through me, and I fell against her.

  I have no idea how long I cried. It seemed like the tears were endless until they were just gone.

  My body shuddered in spasms that made my chest heave as I caught my breath. When Paige got up, I saw a pained look on her face as she stood and stretched her legs and back.

  “How about some soup?” she asked me.

  I rubbed my thumb under my swollen eyes to wipe what was left of my tears away. Blowing out a ragged breath, I straightened my shoulders. “Sure.”

  Paige propped pillows behind me, sliding the wooden TV table in front of me as Mary set down a bowl with steam rising from it.

  “It’s my homemade chicken soup,” she said as she stretched out her hand and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Eat some of that and then you can go take a shower and change into more comfortable clothes.”

  I did as she asked and put a spoonful of broth in my mouth, swallowing and repeating until the spoon scraped against the bottom of the empty bowl. I’d been hungrier than I thought.

  Paige helped me up the stairs and led me into the bathroom. She turned the shower on and stepped back. “I’m gonna get you some clean clothes. Leave the door unlocked. Okay?”

  “I’m fine, Paige.”

  She scowled at me. “Don’t push it with me right now, Riley. I’m on two hours of sleep, and I’m about to break myself. Just get in the damn shower, and I’ll be back with your clothes.”

  I grumbled as I pulled my T-shirt off and tossed it at her. “I hope your bedside manner was better with your patients.”

  Tears fell from her eyes, and she put her hand to her mouth to muffle her sob. “There you are. I thought I’d never reach you. You scared the hell out of me, Riley.”

  I looked down and shuffled my feet against the worn linoleum. “I’m sorry.”

  “You shouldn’t be sorry. I’m just glad you found your way back to me.” She wiped her eyes and waved her hand at her face to stem off the flow of tears as she backed out of the bathroom, closing the door.

  I stripped the rest of my clothes off and stood underneath the hot water, letting in run down my face as I absorbed the heat. When I finally felt warm, I scrubbed my skin red and washed my hair twice. Anything to clean off whatever heaviness pulled at me, wanting to weigh me down.

  The bathroom door opened, and Paige called out to me. “Your clean clothes are on the sink counter. I’ll be downstairs with Mary. Yell if you need me.”

  I pulled a corner of the shower curtain back. “Thanks. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  My muscles protested when I moved too fast. I guess that was what happened when you lost yourself so entirely that you didn’t even have it in you to move for days at a time.

  Paige had found me my comfiest sweatpants and a soft, cotton T-shirt. I pulled on my clothes, ran a comb through my hair, and then brushed my teeth. When I opened the bathroom door, the doorbell rang. As I made my way down the stairs, I noticed a deliveryman holding a flower arrangement. Mary signed for it and closed the door. When she turned, she saw me. “More flowers. Where would you like them?”

  “More?” I allowed myself to look further past her and around the living room. Every available open spot had a vase or basket. “What am I supposed to do with all of these?”

  “If you don’t want all of them, you could send them to the hospital. There are lots of people there that might get some enjoyment out of them,” Paige said as she swept her hand in an arch at the floral shop that had taken over my living room.

  I made my way down the last two steps and went over to the first arrangement on my left. “Yeah, that would be great.”

  “I left the cards on them so that we can send thank-you notes to everyone. If you want, we can mark what they sent on the back of the cards before you donate the flowers.”

  Paige grabbed a pen and I pulled each card out, to read who the flowers came from, and then handed it to her, so she could make a small note of what it came off. Aiden, Mark, Josh, Eli, and Jared’s parents all sent beautiful plants. They knew me well enough to send something I could keep.

  “Paige?” I rubbed the petal of a white carnation between my fingers, focusing on the satiny feel of it.

  Paige’s hand stilled mid-scribble, and she turned to look at me. “Yeah?”

  I let go of the flower petal, moved to the next arrangement, and plucked the card from its holder. I handed it to her, not really reading it. “Can you tell the guys… tell ’em I’m okay and that I appreciate them wanting to come, but it’s not necessary?”

  She tried to scoff at me. “No, really, that’s the way I want it. Dad wasn’t i
nto funerals, so I don’t plan on doing anything. Besides, they all have things they’re doing right now. Knowing they’d drop everything to be here is enough.”

  Paige reached out, putting her hand on my arm. “Are you sure, Riley?”

  I gave a sharp nod. I’d made my decision, and I’d stick by it. Paige knew it too, because she pulled her hand away and went back to filling out the back of each card I handed her.

  When we were finished, a majority of the flower arrangements were loaded into Paige’s car, minus the beautiful wreath of white roses with gold ribbon from Dr. Anderson. I hung that on the outside of the front door, as Paige grabbed her keys.

  Something tugged at the back of my mind—something having to do with Paige and the hospital. I rubbed my temple, trying to remember what it was.

  “Riley, don’t worry about it. Going back there doesn’t bother me anymore.”

  When she pulled out of the driveway, I remembered why. Paige no longer worked there because they hired someone else. I felt awful that she’d just driven away with a carload of flowers to a place she probably never wanted to see again.

  Mary came up beside me and wrapped her arm around my waist. I leaned into her, taking the comfort she gave. “I’m really sorry you missed Ace’s graduation.”

  She squeezed me tighter and stepped back, so we could go inside the house. “You needed me here.”

  “And Ace needed you there.”

  “Jake understands, Riley. He was so upset when he found out and couldn’t be here for you. He asked me to stay here.”

  I walked over, pulled a cup down from the cupboard, and filled it with water. “What happened to him coming here on leave?”

  Mary followed me into the living room and sat down on the couch, next to the box that hadn’t been moved since I’d set it there. “His team received some sort of orders. He couldn’t talk about it with me, but he promised he’d call us as soon as he could. I don’t even know how long he’ll be away for.” Her lips curved into a smile. The sort of smile you fake when you were trying your hardest not to cry.