A Girl by Any Other Name (36 page)

youth, vibrant and exciting, was a thing of wonder, rarely recaptured in adulthood. As usual, our

conversation had lasted long into the night until we’d both fallen asleep.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now,” I grumbled. “Jesus, girl, you know I have to leave in a little bit to get home before

my daddy wakes up. Why won’t you let a man get any sleep?”

“I have something I need to tell you. It’s important.”

“Can’t you wait until morning?”

“I’m afraid I’ll chicken out in the morning. I’m going to say it and then we’ll never have to talk

about it again. Will you listen?”

“Shoot.”

She was quiet for a minute, and I almost wondered if she had fallen asleep again. I hadn’t

opened my eyes at all, so part of me thought I might be dreaming. “If I ever go away or leave

unexpectedly, you can find me in Portland.”

Sudden panic gripped me, vacating the possibility of sleep. “Huh? Why would you go away?” I

tightened my arm around her.

“That’s not important. The important part is where I’ll be. Will you come find me?”

“Why the hell would I want to go to Portland?”

“Because I’ll be there.” The anxiety in her usually confident voice worried me. She whispered

the next part to me. “I think I’m your Lenore.”

“Are you smoking crack or something?”

“No, I just had to tell you that. Sorry.” She sounded disappointed in my response. I embraced

her.

“Portland, Oregon or Portland, Maine?” I asked.

She laughed with relief. “I’m glad you’re paying attention. Portland, Oregon.”

“It would be just like you to send me to the wrong state.”

She giggled, patting my chest, “Goodnight, Tex.”

I was almost asleep again, but a question seized me, fighting against my need to rest. “Why

Portland?”

“I’ve researched it. It’s nice there. Sometimes the sky is blue and sometimes it’s gray. It’s a city

big enough that it’ll be difficult to find me, but small enough that I won’t get lost.”

“How the hell am I supposed to find you then?”

“I’ll find you. You just have to come there. Will you promise?”

“I think you’re crazy.”

“I know.”

“I’ll promise you anything if you go to sleep.”

“’Kay.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sylvie

I heard the two voices, talking quietly in the room with me. Cal and Joe. Joe and Cal. I loved

them both, but in different ways. Joe was my friend and he’d been there for me. I would always love

him for that, but Cal… Cal owned my heart.

I called out to them, but no sound escaped my lips. It was exhausting just trying, so I stopped and

concentrated on what they were saying, but that was difficult too. I just got bits and pieces. One called

me Sophie and the other Sylvie. I was glad neither called me Gabby. Gabby was dead, but I was

alive…wasn’t I?

Then darkness fell.

I heard him. Cal’s deep voice, sexy and soothing at the same time, spoke quietly, barely louder

than a whisper. His slow Southern twang with the hint of gravel broke through my clouded mind like

sunshine. He was reading to me. After a while, I recognized the text as Steinbeck’s
Of Mice and Men
.

It was close to the end. Had he read the whole book? Then I heard him shuffle closer to me. I felt his

warm breath against my ear. I wanted to turn toward him, but my body betrayed me. “Hey, Sleeping

Beauty, I know you’re not a fan, but that’s exactly why I’m reading it. You’re so stubborn that I

wouldn’t put it past you to wake up and tell me to stop.” The next sentence, he said slower, each

word dripping with anguish. “Please wake up, baby. Please fight.”

Then darkness fell.

I heard him again, but someone else’s voice too. “I can’t believe this, son. I feel so guilty for

doubting you. For what this girl’s been through.”

“It’s okay, Momma, it wouldn’t have turned out any different if you had believed me. I’m just

glad I can tell you now.”

It was Cal and his mother?

“What can we do?”

Mandy?

“The doctors say she might be able to hear us. I’ve been reading to her and talking to her. They

say it can help. Why don’t you sing to her, princess? She’d like that.”

I heard the riff of a guitar. Mandy was playing the guitar?

Then the familiar lyrics of a song. I tried to place it, but it wasn’t until Cal joined her that I

could. It was
Who Says You Can’t Go Home.

Mandy stopped suddenly. “Cal, don’t sing with me. You’re no Bon Jovi.”

“What? It’s a duet, and besides, you’re no Jennifer Nettles either.”

I wanted to laugh at their amusing sibling banter, but no sounds formed.

“I’m closer than you. Besides, you know you’re tone deaf. Do you want this girl to wake up with

a headache?”

“As long as she wakes up,” he said in a quiet, sad voice.

“She will.”

“Mandy, I’m a good man, right? God wouldn’t let me find her again only to take her away from

me, would he? I know I’m the reason she’s here.”

“You’re not, Cal. He’s the reason. And I don’t know what God’s plans are for our Sylvie, but I

do know that my big brother is the best kind of man there is.”

I tried my hardest fighting the darkness this time. I wanted to see him. To touch him. I felt my

eyes flutter awake. He was hovering above me, bloodshot eyes and a few days’ worth of stubble on

his face. The relieved, hopeful smile he gave me broke my heart. “Baby, don’t try to talk. Mandy, get

the nurse.” I saw long auburn spirals and heard the click of heels as she ran out of the room. She was

grown up.

He stared at me, a tear forming at the corner of his eye. I wanted to wipe it away, but he clutched

one of my hands and the other wouldn’t move.

Then darkness came.

I woke up, more alert this time. It was dark in the room, except for the dim lighting coming from

the hallway. I searched for him until I saw his sleeping form on the chair beside me. I blinked my eyes

until he came into focus. His strong jaw, covered in stubble, and wrinkled shirt did nothing to detract

from his striking good looks. His sandy blond hair, longer than I remembered, flopped seductively

against the chiseled planes of his face. He was an incredibly handsome man. I wouldn’t think twice of

describing him as beautiful, although his masculine conscious wouldn’t have appreciated that

description. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, where his legs stretched out so far that I feared he

might fall. The seating definitely wasn’t the right fit for his tall frame.

He must have sensed I was awake because he opened his eyes. They looked blue tonight, but

bloodshot and tired. He let out a long relieved sigh that quickly turned into a happy grin. “Hi,

gorgeous girl, how was your nap?”

“Are you all right?” I didn’t even recognize my own voice. It sounded strained and harsh, like

I’d smoked a million cigarettes.

He chuckled, but there was an ache in it like it reverberated from his gut. “You would ask me

that before I could ask you. I’m just fine. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

I thought about it for a moment. My body felt stiff, like lifting a limb would require major effort,

and my face felt tight for some reason, but other than that, I felt good. “I think I’m good.” I tried to

shift, but my body wouldn’t let me move. “What…what’s happened?”

“Don’t try to move. You’ve been in a coma. It was from head trauma.” He winced, grasping my

hand as if the explanation was difficult for him. “He hit you in the head really hard and knocked you

into an iron table. I couldn’t stop it.”

“How long?”

“Almost two weeks.” Two weeks? How was that possible? “I’m going to get you some water.”

He held a cup with a straw out to me. I took a sip, but it burned a little going down. “They had a tube

in your throat. It’s going to hurt for a little while.” He set the cup down, stroking my hair.

The last thing I remembered was Joe being shot. I gasped, “Joe?”

“He’s okay. He had to have surgery, but he recuperated just fine. It turns out Eddie’s aim wasn’t

as accurate as he proclaimed after all.”

I took a deep breath, relieved that Joe was alive. “Where is he?”

“He had to go back to work, but I called him earlier to tell him you were awake.”

“Did he say anything?”

Cal smirked. “Yeah, he said if I fuck this up with you, he’ll be waiting.” My mouth dropped

open, but Cal put me at ease by brushing his fingers against my cheek. “It’s okay, baby. We have an

understanding. I shook his hand before he left. I’ll always be indebted to him.”

“Why?”

“Because he took care of you when I couldn’t.”

I tried to wrap my head around the idea of Cal and Joe being friends or even friendly, but it was

difficult to grasp. “What I had with him was different than what I feel for you.”

“I know that. You don’t have to justify it to me. I never thought I’d say this, but in the end, I’m

glad you had both of us.”

Then a cold dread filled me. “Eddie?”

“He’s dead. Joe says all indications are that you’re safe.”

It felt like a heavy weight had finally been lifted off my chest. I didn’t have to worry anymore

about myself or Cal. It was the most amazing gift I could have received. “How did he die?”

“I shot him.”

I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his words against the freedom of their meaning.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, sweetheart. I need to know.”

“I’m relieved that he’s dead.”

“My only regret is that I didn’t do it ten years ago.”

“No regrets, Cal. Just relief. We don’t have to hide anymore.”

He took my hand and kissed it. “No, we don’t. I can’t wait to scream how much I love you to

anyone who’ll listen.”

I laughed, but it came out a choked raspy sound. “Don’t do it too much, Tex. They’ll think you’re

crazy.”

I saw the guilt in his eyes, but I had no idea how to take it away, so I asked another question.

“Are Mandy and your mom here? I thought I heard them.”

“Yes, I called them. I figured since there was no danger, they could know. I hope that’s okay. I

really needed their support.”

“Of course it is. I want to see them. Are they here?”

“No, they’re at my place. It’s very late and visiting hours are over, but they’ll be back in the

morning.”

“Then why are you here?”

He was thoughtful for a moment. I reached out and tousled his sandy blond hair and trailed my

fingers down the stubble on his cheek, grateful my muscles were finally working. He leaned into my

hand as if it was a great source of comfort. “Your nurse happens to be a friend of mine, and she

convinced the staff to look the other way. I’ve been staying here.”

“The whole time?”

“Pretty much. Momma said I should go home and clean up for you, but I couldn’t stand the

thought of you waking up all alone.”

Just then, a pretty, blonde woman appeared next to me. I hadn’t seen her come in.

“Good, our patient is awake,” she said cheerfully.

“Sylvie, this is Molly,” Cal introduced.

Molly? This was awkward and definitely not the impression I wanted to make with Cal’s ex.

She smiled at me sweetly, though, and it put me at ease. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.

You’re a very lucky girl.”

I didn’t think she was just talking about me being alive, but I had no response to that so I just

nodded. She took my blood pressure and got me some water. Cal took it from her, holding the straw

to my mouth. I drew the liquid quickly, not realizing how thirsty I was. Then I choked on it. He rubbed

my back in slow circles. “Take it easy.”

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

Molly helped me up. She made quick work of unhooking me from the tubes and machinery

connected to my body. He took one of my arms while she took the other. My legs felt like stiff lead

weights. Finally, Cal just lifted me and carried me in there, but I managed to shoo him away before I

performed the act. He was already seeing me at my worst. I really didn’t want him in the audience

while I peed. Molly helped me, which wasn’t much better, but she was very professional about it.

“Are y’all done in there?” Cal asked as soon as the toilet flushed.

“Yes,” Molly answered. She helped me to the sink as Cal rushed in. He sat on the small vanity,

practically washing my hands for me then drying them.

Before I could protest, he swept me up again, carrying me out. I thought it was a bit odd, but

right now, I wasn’t about to complain.

Molly straightened the sheets around me. “Your doctor and the plastic surgeon will be in

tomorrow.”

“Plastic surgeon?” I asked.

She looked between Cal and me. Cal shook his head at her in frustration. Her expression became

contrite. “I’m sorry, I thought she knew.”

“Can you bring a mirror, Molly?”

She walked out quickly.

“Baby, just relax. It looks worse than it is. This plastic surgeon is brilliant from what I hear, and

he thinks he can make it so you only have a minor scar.”

I suddenly got why he’d been so vigilant with the bathroom. He was covering the mirror so I