“Harvard to Rescue F?” Before I could call back to the guys that I was all clear, a loud crackling sound cut me off. My head shot upwards, and just before I was struck, I made out the second-floor roof of the warehouse collapsing directly on top of me.
****
Angela
“Hey, you okay?” Stephanie asked while I wiped down a spill at the bar.
I blinked, taking a second to realize she was addressing me. “Yeah, sure. Why?”
“Because that customer’s been trying to get your attention for some time now.” She nodded her head in the direction of a man waving, obviously wanting to order a drink.
“Shit.” I hurried over to the man, apologizing and taking his order. Once I passed him the lager he ordered, I went back to wiping up the counter.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Steph asked again.
I gave a half shrug. The truth was, I wasn’t. Over the last hour, a sense of dread had settled in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn’t shake it. It weighed my mood down like a twenty-pound boulder. Though I tried not to think about it, the only other time in my life I felt like this was when my parents went away for their anniversary. Within a few hours of that feeling, I got the call telling me they died. But I wasn’t about to share that with Stephanie.
“I’m fine, it’s just that Eric’s mom has been so insistent on these bouquets as place settings for the wedding, and I don’t like them that much,” I lied.
Thankfully, Stephanie was none the wiser. “Oh, see that’s why I’m eloping when I get married.”
“Eloping?” I asked, laughing a little.
“Yeah, wham, bam, thank you ma’am type of thing. We’ll go to a little chapel in Vegas or maybe Reno and do it there.”
“That’s so cheesy, Steph.”
My phone, which I placed on the counter behind the bar, buzzed and I picked it up seeing that I’d received a text message. I opened it to see it was from Eric’s mother.
How about these?
The question was accompanied by a picture of an all-white bouquet of lilies. I rolled my eyes.
“See what I mean?” I held up the message for Stephanie to read.
She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “I’m telling you, Vegas or Reno.”
“That’s not sounding like a bad idea all of a sudden,” I mumbled while I typed a response. Placing the phone down, I worked to get out of my funk. I did my best not to think the worst. Two of the most important men in my life worked as firefighters, and I prayed to the Man above that this feeling in my gut wasn’t telling me the worst has happened to one of them. I’d be devastated if something happened to Sean. I simply doubted I’d even make it if something happened to Eric. I shook my head of those thoughts. It was probably just the nervousness and tension of all the wedding talk or something. I went on to serve more customers, ignoring my feelings. One of my favorite songs came on the jukebox and customers started clapping, urging us to dance. I almost convinced myself I was feeling better. That is until Sean came barging through the door.
I looked up just as he entered. Seeing his ghosted eyes, I knew.
I just knew.
My heart rose into my throat, and it became impossible to swallow.
My hands began trembling so badly that I dropped the bottle I was holding. I didn’t even notice the shards of glass on the floor around my feet. I was planted in place. I wanted to get to Sean?ask him what happened?but I couldn’t move. I thought I made out his form striding toward me, but everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. My heartbeat tripled, and a buzzing sound took over in my ears. I panned down to his lips, and it was then I realized they were moving. He was saying something.
“Angela.” My brother’s voice alone almost broke me. It was so heavy. So full of sorrow.
“I-is he…is h-he dead?” I managed to croak out, tears already streaming down my face.
“You need to come with me.” He used the voice he used when he needed to be firm yet gentle with Jeremiah. The same one I heard him use when telling Jeremiah our parents died.
I don’t know how I got from behind the bar to my brother. I think Stephanie told me she’d take care of everything, and pushed me to get moving. Then again, maybe Sean came around the bar to tug me to get me to move. I don’t know. The next thing I remembered was Sean helping me into his car, placing my purse in my lap, him proceeding to get into the driver’s side, and pulling off.
I had a million and one questions shooting around in my mind, but I couldn’t talk. Didn’twantto talk. Talking would make it real, and I didn’t know what was worse, the made-up scenario in my mind or reality. I opted to clamp my mouth shut and just watch the lights of the city pass by as we drove to the hospital. I twisted the engagement ring I’ve worn since the day Eric asked me to be his wife, around and around, hoping it’d provide me some comfort.
“He’s in Room 221,” Sean said in my ear, taking my elbow and leading us to the elevators. I was so grateful for his strength right then.
