“Uncle Brent!” Travis Fisher calls out, raising a hand as he cruises through the lobby of the hospital’s main floor.
Brent Taylor pauses at the entrance to the cafeteria, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand, and searches until he spots Travis. The two men walk toward one another.
“Coming to see your mom and Tempest?” Brent asks.
“Yeah. Hoping I can maybe get Tempest’s mind off things a little, or even get her to go home for a while.”
“Your mom would really appreciate that, I bet.” Brent shifts the coffee cup between his hands as he hesitates, mulling his next words. “Listen, Travis…”
“It’s okay.” Travis holds up a palm. “You and my mom -- if you guys are happy, then that’s cool. You’ve both been single a while, you’ve been friends for a long time, and… you don’t have to worry about it upsetting me. I’m not some pouty teenager anymore. I just want my mom to be happy. Really.”
Brent’s face relaxes, and a smile spreads over his mouth. “Thanks, Travis. That means a lot. I really do care about her.”
“Good. She deserves that.”
“Speaking of… looks like you and Jimenez are getting pretty close. I hear you brought her to family dinner the other night.”
Travis tells himself to play it cool, even as he feels an excitement radiating from himself that is so strong that he worries it might be tangible.
“She’s great,” he says as evenly as he can. “I like spending time with her. Kind of hoping I get to do a lot more of it.”
“I get the sense she feels the same way. She’s a hell of a cop, too. You know what? I was at the station all day yesterday, and we were short on bodies, and someone suggested we call her in on her day off. And here’s how much I like her: I told them to call someone else because Jimenez deserves her day off.”
The story hits Travis like a battering ram to the stomach. He doubles back in his mind, wondering if he has his days wrong or if he heard something incorrectly, but no: it was just yesterday that he and Rosie went to brunch, where they joined Kathleen and Jimmy at their table, and before their meal was even served, Rosie looked at her phone, told them she’d been called in to the station, and excused herself.
“Did that work?” Travis asks, hopeful but hesitant. “Did you wind up calling her in?”
“No, she got her day off. Like I said, she deserves it. She’s a hard worker.”
“Oh. Uh, yeah. She is.” He forces himself to nod along, but his mind is clouded. “I should get upstairs.”
“Go ahead. Your mom will be thrilled to see you. Tempest, too, I bet. Take care, Travis. And thanks for what you said.”
“No problem.”
Travis manages to plaster a grin over his face long enough so that Brent turns and heads for the exit. After a few steps in the direction of the elevators, Travis stops, too overwhelmed to continue without gathering his thoughts. Could Brent be wrong? Or did Rosie lie about why she was leaving brunch yesterday? Did anything happen to make her decide she didn’t want to be there with him? Or was it something else?
The thoughts press down upon him as if the ceiling itself were lowering over him, pushing him right into the ground.
What the hell is going on? he wonders.
-----
‘’It’s this one, right?” Jason asks as he eases his car to a stop outside the four-unit apartment building.
“You remembered,” Sabrina says with surprise.
“I’m shocked myself. I don’t have the best track record for remembering details.”
“I can’t thank you enough for the ride. This is…” She stares straight out the windshield, toward the row of trash cans lined up by the curb for collection day. “I knew that car didn’t have that much life left in it, but still.”
“The mechanic didn’t say it was for sure a goner.”
“He didn’t sound too optimistic.”
“He said he was going to see what he could do.”
“Did you not notice him refusing to make eye contact when he said that?” In spite of the terrible turn her day has taken, Sabrina lets out a little laugh. “I’m not feeling so great about my odds.”
“Try and keep your chin up. And hey, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“You gave me a ride! That’s a big help.”
“Seriously. You’re a great person, and I know it must be tough being on your own in a new place.”
She exhales. “It is. But it’s nice, too. A fresh start, you know?”
“I remember you saying that.” Jason bites his lower lip as he considers something. “But I mean it. If I can help out while you sort this car thing out, please let me know.”
“Thank you, Jason. I might just have to figure out how to win the lottery or something like that.”
“I’ll cross my fingers,” he says, “or maybe see what I can do about rigging that.”
She lets out a guffaw. “Can you imagine?”
“I don’t know if I’m slick enough to get away with it, but I can try.”
“That’s very nice of you.” After a pause, she unclicks her seatbelt and opens the door. “Thanks again for the ride.”
“My pleasure. Good luck with whatever the mechanic has to say.”
Sabrina steps out of the car. “I owe you one, Jason.”
“Nah. It’s what friends do.”
She smiles at him. “Friends. I like that.” She closes the car door and walks up the driveway to the back stairs that lead to her studio apartment, feeling strangely positive in spite of her car’s -- and bank account’s -- dismal outlook.
-----
Tempest never flinches, not when Alex and Trevor throw one another a surprised look, and not when the men glance back at Claire as if to wonder how this could possibly be happening.
“You know you aren’t in a place to raise a child,” Claire says gently.
“Why the hell not? I have a good job now. And I’m his sister--”
“What about childcare?” Claire asks. “Who will look after him while you’re working? I have a job, too. I can’t--”
“I’m gonna move out, anyway,” Tempest says. “It’s time I did that.”
“I don’t want you to move out.”
“I’ve got to.”
“Please don’t do this.” Claire moves toward Tempest, a pleading look on her face as she reaches for the younger woman. Tempest shrugs away her touch.
“You don’t need to be raising a child right now,” Claire says. “You’ll be a terrific mother someday, but now--”
“He’s my brother! No one else is right to raise him. This is what I owe him, okay? And you’re not changing my mind.”
Before Claire can respond, Tempest pulls away and hurries back toward the elevators.
“She can’t…” Alex struggles to form a coherent statement. “Everything else aside, she isn’t in a place to take on a baby.”
Claire plants her hands on her hips. “I know. I think she’s just so wrapped up in her grief, and her guilt…”
“The social worker can’t think that’s a good idea,” Trevor says. “There’s no way.”
“She is the next of kin,” Alex offers.
“Still.” Trevor runs a hand over his brown hair.
“I have to talk some sense into her,” Claire says. “I have to. Before this all goes really wrong.”
