I curse again and throw the letter into the center of the room before wrenching open the door and half falling down the stairs.
The world is still tilting unsteadily on its axis, but I can’t stop to be sick. I have to catch Sam before she leaves the parking lot. Maybe she only left a few minutes ago. Maybe she’s still checking out or loading her backpack into the trunk.
I have to catch her; I can’t be too late.
But when I reach the parking lot, the little red car is gone, and when I trudge up the stairs to the main lodge, the man at the desk says Sam checked out last night.
“She paid the bill and left a one-hundred dollar credit,” the older man with the pink cheeks and wide smile says cheerfully. “That’s enough for another night at the reduced rate. Would you like to stay with us tonight Mr. Cooney?”
I shake my head. “No thanks, I have to get to Auckland. My girlfriend said there was a bus?”
The cheerful man nods vigorously as he pulls a blue schedule from behind the counter. “There is. It leaves from the post office downtown, every morning but Sunday. You’ve missed today, but I can call and get you booked for tomorrow.”
I bite my lip, fighting the urge to curse. “Is there any way to get there sooner? A cab or something? Or maybe I could rent another car from some place in town?”
The man’s brows draw together. “A taxi wouldn’t take you all the way to Auckland, but I might be able to book a rental car. Would you like me to make some calls?”
“Yes, please,” I say, nervously tapping my fingers on the desk.
“Why don’t you grab a cup of coffee and come back in a few,” Cheerful Man says with a pointed, but cheerful, look at my fingers. “I should know a bit more then.”
I nod and make my way to the restaurant, where I order toast and coffee to go and try not to look at the table where I ate with Sam the other night, or think about how we made love after. Even then, when we seemed to be getting back in sync, things weren’t the same. I should have known she was dealing with something heavy. And I should have held my shit together last night instead of running away into a bottle like a fucking coward.
I don’t care what she said, I’m getting my flight destination changed. I’m going to L.A. and I’m going to find her and apologize in person. And then I’m going to stand by her the way I promised I would.
I return to the front desk and sip my coffee, so preoccupied I don’t realize Cheerful Man is calling for me until he says my name loud enough to make me jump.
“Mr. Cooney!” I glance up and he motions for me to come behind the desk. “There’s an urgent call for you. Your brother-in-law. I told him to stay on the line and I’d find you instead of putting the call through to the messaging service.”
Coffee and sack of toast forgotten, I circle around the desk, stepping over a pile of coats not visible from the guest side to take the phone. “Thank you,” I say to the clerk before putting the phone to my ear. “Gabe? Is everything okay? Sorry I didn’t call last night, I—”
“You have to come home, Danny,” Gabe says. I know something is terribly wrong by the time he says the word “home.” Gabe is one of those almost too-slick guys who makes being classy look easy. I’ve never heard him sound so off-center, or so completely miserable. “It’s…bad.”
The room spins and I sit down hard on the floor behind the desk, knowing I’m going to be sick again if I don’t. “Oh my God. Is it the baby? Did she lose the baby?”
“No, the baby’s fine. She was born last night. She’s beautiful.” Gabe pulls in a breath, and I suddenly realize he’s crying. “It’s Caitlin. She started bleeding after. There was so much blood.”
“Shit,” I say, shaking my head. “But she’s okay. She’s alive, she’s going to be okay.”
Gabe’s silent for a long moment during which every organ in my body threatens to liquefy with fear. “They don’t know. She’s in a coma and they’ve had trouble keeping her stable.”
I curse and squeeze my eyes shut.
“They couldn’t get the bleeding to stop so they took her into surgery and did an emergency hysterectomy,” he says, his voice breaking in that shattered way that is so not Gabe. “I was worried how I was going to tell her we can’t have more children. I never thought—”
He breaks off and all I hear are soft sobs. I need to say something to comfort him, but I don’t know what. I only know that my big sister, the only person who has never let me down, who I love like a mother and a sister and a veteran of the same war I lived through growing up, might be dying and I’m so hung over I don’t know if I’m going to be able to drive a car to the airport to catch a plane.
“I don’t know what to do,” Gabe continues. “Emmie’s crying in the waiting room and I don’t know how to get through this. I don’t know what to do without her.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I say, sitting up straighter, willing strength back into my alcohol-poisoned muscles. “Just hang on, and I’ll get there. I’ll take care of the kids and everything at the house. You can just stay with Caitlin and the baby at the hospital so you’ll be there the second she wakes up.”
Gabe pulls in a breath and I can tell he’s trying to regain control. “Thanks, Danny.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I lie, praying it will become the truth. “You know how tough she is. There are a hundred and ten samurai warriors trapped in that little body.”
“I know.” Gabe’s laugh almost immediately turns into a sob. “I just love her so much. I need to tell her, at least one more time.”
Tears fill my eyes and I don’t even try to stop them. “I love you, man. I’m going to be there as soon as I can. I’ll call as soon as I know the flight information. Tell everyone else I’m coming.”
We hang up and I turn to find Cheerful Man standing behind me in a coat and hat, holding up a pair of car keys. “Let’s grab your things, Mr. Cooney. I’m taking you to the airport. I’ve already cleared it with my supervisor.”
“Thanks so much.” I want to hug the guy, but settle for a clap on the shoulder as tears spill down my face.
I grab my shit as fast as I can and Cheerful Guy—Henry, I learn on the way to Auckland—and I hit the road.
He does most of the talking, seeming to realize I’m in no shape for conversation. He tells me about the different sites we pass by and about his family. He grew up on a sheep farm and was the first kid in the family to go to college, but he still went home every weekend to visit his mom and sister, who died of complications from a congenital heart defect when she was forty-two.
“We thought we’d have her for longer,” Henry says. “But we treasured every day we had. She was such a beautiful soul.”
“My sister, too,” I say, fighting the urge to start crying again. We’re almost at the airport and I need to hold it together long enough to get my booking arrangements sorted out. “Thank you again, Henry. I appreciate it.”
“Happy to help a man take care of the people he loves.”
Henry and I shake hands and I grab my backpack from the trunk before heading inside the airport, but his words haunt me.