I’m also writing to tell you that your phone calls have stirred up something somewhere. I got a call from the state district attorney and they’re going to reopen my case. They said there were some discrepancies with evidence and witness tampering. They believed I was made to plead guilty because of a back room deal and the judge is going to be investigated.
I don’t know what this means for my time in here, but if your offer to come see me still stands, I’ve added you to my visitor list. I don’t know what else to say but that for the first time in maybe forever I’m filled with hope.
The one you saved,
Rocco
* * *
My heart is hammering in my chest and I read the letter three times before I finally look up again. Does this all mean what I think it does? I should go ask Mrs. Honey since she’s good with relationships. I’m not so sure the drama from the soaps help her, but overall she’s got great advice.
I grab her mail and then set the alarm on the house before I practically run next door. I’m knocking on the back door as I’m flinging the door open and calling out for her on my way.
“Mrs. Honey! I got a letter from Rocco,” I shout as I go into the living room where she’ll be watching her shows this time of day. “Mrs. Honey?”
When I see her sitting her chair for a second I think she’s fallen asleep. But when I get closer I see her lips are blue and I begin to panic.
“Mrs. Honey, wake up!” I shout, but there’s no response. I run to the kitchen and grab the house phone and dial 911. The operator answers instantly and she tells me that help is on the way.
It takes twelve long minutes for the ambulance to arrive and I ride inside of it with her on the way to the hospital. I call her son Phillip and he says he’ll meet us there, but I could hear the panic is his voice and it didn’t help mine.
“Please, please be okay,” I whisper as I watch the emergency responders work on her.
I don’t ask God for much, but he better not harm a hair on the head of my sweet little neighbor.
Nine
LIZZY
“Lizzy.” The sound of my name has my head jerking up.
I must have dozed off for a moment and it takes me a second to realize I’m staring up at Mike. He’s wearing another one of those shirts that say LR Construction on it. He stands in front of me with a very pregnant women next to him. She stares down at me with concern on her face.
“Hi.” My voice comes out cracked as I try and sit up straight in the hard hospital chair.
His face softens as he looks at me. “I’m going to take you home,” he says as he holds out his hand for me.
“But—”
“Mrs. Honey is going to be fine. She’s got to stay for a few nights for observation, but it looks like she ate something she wasn’t supposed to. That’s all.”
“What?” I shoot up from my chair.
The last update I’d gotten was they were running tests. It felt like I’d been here for days waiting for answers. I glance to where her son was sitting but he’s not there any longer. He must’ve gotten the news already. Why didn’t he wake me? I’ll never understand him.
“Liz, look at me. Mrs. Honey wants you to go home. She was awake for a little but she’s asleep again. She said you had classes you needed to worry about.” A slice of relief fills me at what she said because it sounds like something she’d say.
“She’s really fine?” I ask, and worry nags at me. I can’t leave unless I’m sure.
“Yeah, they want to keep her a few days because she’s older just to be safe, but she's going to be fine.” The woman next to Mike reaches out and touches my shoulder.
“It’s because you found her.” She adds and gives my shoulder a squeeze.
Waiting for the ambulance felt like an eternity. I swallow the lump in my throat but still a tear slips free. I can’t help it because I’m so happy that she’s okay.
“Thank you for letting me know,” I tell them both.
“Come on, we’re going to take you home,” the woman says. “I’m Sherry, by the way, Mike’s wife.” She smiles at me as we walk out together.
It isn’t until we’re in the car do I think to ask why they were there. “Did you know Mrs. Honey?”
“No. I just got word there was an ambulance outside the house,” Mike responds.
“Oh.” I wonder who would have told him that.
“I keep a watch on the place since you’re a single woman alone and all.” I watch his wife smile over at him proudly.
I smile at the reminder that there are good men out there like Mike and Rocco. Not everyone is a Gabe.
“That’s sweet of you,” I tell him, appreciative that he would take the time to care about me without really knowing me.
“We watch out for our own.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. I’m not sure how I fall into whatever group he considers his own and I don’t ask because I don’t want to be rude. My own parents don’t check on me, so it’s nice someone does.
They didn’t even bother to ask if I wanted to come back home after what happened with Gabe. All I got was, “I’m glad you’re okay,” and, “you need to do a better job at watching out for yourself.”
“Did you shovel my driveway?” I don’t know why that pops into my head. He nods and I lean back in my seat.
“Thanks.”
“Like I said.” He shrugs. “We take care of our own.”
When we pull up to the house I step out and Mike rolls down his window.
“Liz, if you see anything funny you let me know. I gave you my number for a reason.” I nod that I will. “Liz, look at me.” I lift my head to look at him and our eyes meet. “I’m serious. I know you might not get this, but I need you to let me know if someone is fucking with you. It’s more important than you realize.”
For some reason I know I have to tell him about the guy from the other day. It’s been bugging me and I think it might be a problem. I tell him about the lawyer showing up and how he made me feel. Mike sits quietly for a minute while I spill the whole incident. Afterwards he’s silent for a beat then nods.
“All right. I know you already know, but set the alarm when you go in.”
“I will,” I tell him. I wave goodbye, walk up my sidewalk and unlock the door, pausing to do as I’ve been instructed. Afterwards, I walk over to the sofa and drop my purse on the floor.
When I sit down Rocco’s letters fall out of my purse onto the floor. I lean down and pick them up, knowing right now this is the one thing that will make me feel better. I grab my pen and paper and decide to write to him.
Today was another reminder of how short life can be. It makes me want to go and see him now, but I know that’s not how this works. There are so many things I want to tell him about how I feel, but I don’t want him to think I’m crazy. I also don’t want to worry him.
I do the best I can as I let my pen drift across the page and I pour out whatever comes to mind. I decide it’s best to write whatever comes from my heart because that’s what he deserves.