Jaden Baker (68 page)

Jaden stuffed the phone in a pocket and crossed his arms, surveying the room as his mind replayed events. To stop himself from seeing Libby again and again, Jaden instead tried thinking about Christine.

She was just like him.

It had been ridiculous to assume he was completely unique, though for years he had. He never wondered about other people with PK. Life had always been about getting away and staying free, not ever considering that his ability was a shared one.

In their conversation, prior to him learning Libby was actually Molly Dalton, she had mentioned a Christine that her parents took in. That information meant something now. Chad Dalton found another person with PK, this one older than the nine year old Jaden. Rather than lock her away in an underground facility, Dalton took her into his home. Libby said Christine was crazy, and the coup de grace for her departure. Libby could not have known Christine was there for study, not to replace her.

Jaden hated Christine. Only now that Libby was here, being worked on, did he wish he could go back to the crime scene and kill her. If only there had been a brick, not a boot, on the road.

Dalton. Would he recognize Jaden? It had been ten years since they had seen each other, and Jaden had been a teenager then, held down by Madrid’s forceful, oppressive rules. Jaden was a little taller now, his voice had changed, his face transformed.

It didn’t matter if he was recognized. Things were different now, no one could control him. If Dalton wanted to report that Jaden was in a Seattle hospital, he could. What did it matter? He couldn’t be forced to do anything he didn’t want to. There was one job Dalton had: help his daughter recover, save her life if necessary. That’s what fathers were for.

Hours had gone by since he’d brought Libby in, and there was no word on her condition. He had never sat so long and worried so much. No matter how hard he tried to think of something else, to find distraction in wondering who Christine was or when Dalton would arrive, his mind always snapped back to Libby.

His cheeks and eyes were sore from wiping them of the steady flow of tears. Jaden wanted to get a damp paper towel from the bathroom, but he didn’t want to leave. He used his sleeve instead.

Around eight o’clock, when they should have been at the game, a doctor in pink scrubs entered the lobby and talked briefly with the nurse at reception; the nurse hovered out of her chair and pointed at Jaden.

The drumming in his ears wouldn’t be silenced. He watched how the doctor moved: steady, confident. Her face was blank but not somber.

“You brought in Elizabeth?” the doctor asked. She had a soothing voice and blonde hair.

Jaden nodded.

“She did well,” said the doctor, allowing herself an easy smile. “We were able to stop the bleeding, and we got to it fast enough to save her spleen. She has a few broken ribs, so the next six weeks are going to be painful. Her skull was fractured, but we think her brain is fine. There’s a lot of swelling around her head and face, so her head looks worse than it is. We’re expecting a full recovery.”

Libby was going to be okay.

He sighed and felt his eyes burning again, another tide of tears coming.

“Can I see her?” his voice quaked.

“Sure,” the doctor said.

Jaden followed her through double doors into a hallway. The doctor engaged Jaden in post-surgery small talk.

“Her chart said you knew she had internal bleeding and broken ribs. You saved her life. Do you have a medical background?”

“I’ve read some anatomy books,” he said, wiping his eyes with his damp sleeve.

“That’s impressive. Her room is here,” the doctor said, opening a large door for him, showing him inside.

Libby was asleep, hooked up to beeping monitors and machines, an IV line running into her arm. Face puffy and bruised, her head wrapped in thick, white bandages, Libby lay motionless with both arms above a folded blanket that was pulled up to her neck. She didn’t look like Libby at all.

“When will she wake up?” Jaden asked.

“In a little while. The anesthesia is wearing off, but she’s on a lot of pain medication, so she’ll be drowsy. You can take a seat over there and wait for her.”

“Thank you,” Jaden mumbled, then walked around the bed to a chair. He dropped the railing of her hospital bed so he could hold her hand. Looking at her didn’t help his crying problem. A fresh wave of hot tears streamed down his face, and he sniffled. His vision was blurry and his sore sinuses throbbed.

If Jaden had chosen a different drugstore, or entered it five minutes sooner or later, Libby would not have met or helped him. She’d be at home now, or at the soccer game with a friend: healthy, happy, whole. Jaden would’ve left the city in search of a new place to live. She lay here in this state because of him.

He bent over her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it, then wept again. Crying had never come in such floods like this. Seeing Libby lying there, so broken and hurt, sent spasms of pain and grief through his insides, like someone had cut him open and ripped out his organs for divination purposes.

After a time, Jaden wasn’t sure how long, Libby stirred. She moaned and turned her head toward him before opening her eyes.

Jaden wiped his face and sniffled, peering at her with puffy eyes.

“Hi,” he said, and squeezed her hand.

She moaned in response. Her eyes roamed the hospital room, taking in the ceiling mounted television, the overly large door, the IV line in her hand. She closed her eyes for a while then moaned again.

In a slow, deep voice she asked: “Who are you?”

Jaden sat up, his insides which twisted with guilt and pain moments ago, disappeared. The doctor said she would be fine, no brain damage. How could that be if she couldn’t remember him?

“You don’t recognize me?” he asked, hysteria in his voice.

She closed her eyes again and shook her head.

“I’ve been living in your house for the past few days. We met in a drugstore.”

Libby watched him. “I have a house? Is it nice?”

Jaden jumped out of his chair. He was going to get the doctor, tell her something was wrong. Libby couldn’t remember anything.

Then she tugged at his hand. She was smiling.

“I’m just screwing with you,” she said lazily, her eyelids drooping shut, then opening again. “You should have seen your face.”

Jaden slumped into his chair. “That’s not funny,” he said, fighting a strong urge to kiss her.

Libby thought it over. “You’re right, it was inappropriate. They must have me on some really good shit. So what happened? Why am I in a hospital?”

Jaden told her what had happened with Christine, how he’d rushed her into an ambulance, what the doctors had done for her.

“But everything is good?” she asked, frowning. Her speech was slow. “All the plumbing checks out? I’ll be able to do the normal woman things? All my girl parts are okay?” she asked.

Jaden swallowed. “She said you would have a full recovery. Most of the damage was to your upper body, nothing lower than that.”

Libby shut her eyes, sighed, and nodded. “Oh good,” she mumbled. “But I still hate that bitch.”

Jaden laughed nervously, and kissed the top of her hand. He’d never heard her swear as much as she had in the past five minutes. The drugs removed the thin filter over her speech. She would probably answer truthfully to anything he asked.

“It’s the same Christine who lived with your parents?” Jaden asked.

She nodded. Then she opened her eyes. “My animals,” she said, the heart monitor reflecting the rise in her pulse. “Someone has to take care of them.”

Jaden pulled her phone out of his pocket. “Who shall I call?” he asked.

“Tabitha,” she said.

It took Jaden a while to figure out the phone, but he found Tabitha’s name and soon the phone was ringing. When Tabitha answered, Jaden explained he was a friend of Libby’s, then told her an abridged version of events. Tabitha said of course she’d look after the animals and prayed that Libby would be okay. After asking what hospital she was in, Tabitha promised to come and visit the following day.

“I’ll tell her,” Jaden said. “Goodbye.” End call. Jaden set the phone on a table. “She’s praying for you and will come by tomorrow. She’ll watch over the animals for you.”

Libby moaned in response, her eyes closed. She was tired, falling back asleep. In seconds her breathing was deep and rhythmic. Jaden kept her hand in his and reclined his chair back. A nap would be good.

Jaden woke when he heard someone fiddling with something. He opened his eyes and tried adjusting them to the semi-darkness of the room. This was a hospital, he remembered. Someone fussed with Libby’s chart at the foot of her bed. As his eyes came into focus, Jaden saw a tall man, and he wasn’t wearing scrubs or a white coat, but a suit. He put Libby’s chart back and walked to the bedside. The glow from the many monitors illuminated his face: Chad Dalton.

Jaden was glad it was Libby’s heart being monitored, not his own. He didn’t change his position, but squinted at Dalton.

More gray streaked through Dalton’s auburn hair, and his tanned face was etched with more winkles than when Jaden last saw him, but it was the same Dalton. He watched his daughter with fondness and sadness, evident in his electric blue eyes. Like Jaden, Dalton took Libby’s hand into his, kissed the back of it, and his eyes glistened.

“Oh sweetie,” Dalton whispered, touching her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

She moaned and turned toward him, and Jaden knew she’d wake soon, aware that someone touched her.

“Daddy?” she asked.

“Hi sweetie,” he said, putting a hand to her face, smiling sadly at her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was called. I’m sorry I couldn’t get her sooner, I was at a conference in Denver.”

Jaden stirred and squeezed her hand, hoping she would remember Jaden was there, put the pieces together without asking Dalton.

“Who called you?” she asked.

Jaden saw Dalton look at him, but if there was recognition, it didn’t show on Dalton’s face. “I think it was your friend over there.”

Don’t say my name, don’t say my name, Jaden thought, squeezing Libby’s hand. She turned her head to face him. He opened his eyes to connect with her.

“Oh,” Libby said. She thought about something, then faced her father. “You came for me.”

Dalton grinned. “Yes, as soon as I could get here. Oh Molly, honey, we’ve wondered where you were. I’m so sorry this is how I found you.”

Jaden kept his opinion to himself, though he wanted to ask how hard could she have been to find? What, was there no record of a name change? It was the digital age, anyone could be found. Was a private detective never in their budget?

“Didn’t you look for me?” Libby asked. Jaden was glad her thoughts matched his.

Dalton hesitated. “We didn’t think you wanted to be found.”

“Bullshit,” Jaden muttered before he could stop himself.

Dalton looked up, and Libby turned her head to Jaden.

Silence dominated. After several uncomfortable moments, Jaden cleared his throat and shrugged. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he grumbled. He shut his eyes, but he knew his cover was blown.

“What’s important is I’m here now. I read over your chart and spoke with your doctors. They say you’re going to be fine.”

Ten years and the only thing that changed was his appearance. Dalton was the same self-absorbed, arrogant, piece of crap he’d always been. Jaden fought to keep his face even and not smirk at the obvious lie and false sentiment he gave to his daughter. She deserved better than him for a father.

Despite her being pumped full of pain medication, Libby was still lucid enough to detect his pompousness. When she next groaned, Jaden heard irritation. He wanted to apologize for calling, but the hospital needed her vital information, which Jaden didn’t know.

“I’m tired,” Libby said, and that wasn’t a lie. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning,” she mumbled, already drifting to sleep again. “Kiss me goodnight,” she sighed, and Dalton pecked her on the cheek, smiling.

Jaden’s face burned, and he wanted to kick Dalton.

“No,” Libby muttered faintly. “I meant Jaden.”

Dalton and Jaden locked gazes simultaneously, as if their eyes were on a trigger. Dalton stared in shock, Jaden in confidence. The proverbial ball was in his court now. The tables had turned. The tides had changed.

Libby hadn’t recognized her error, but Jaden didn’t care. He was happy she wanted his goodnight kiss, not her father’s. He bent over, cupped her face in his hand and gently kissed her lips, smiling as she did.

“Goodnight,” he whispered.

“G’night,” she breathed.

Dalton pushed away from the bed and left the room clumsily. Jaden kissed Libby’s swollen cheek then pat her shoulder and followed Dalton out.