The Best Man Page 18

  He called Lorelei; she'd made it home just fine, but, yes, it was slick out, and he was an angel for checking on her.

  Levi hung up, then opened the fridge, took out a bottle of Newton's Pale Ale and surveyed his dinner options. Lots of leftovers; cooking for one wasn't easy. Plus, there was a vat of sauce and meatballs; he'd made it for Sarah on Tuesday, since that was her favorite. Just because he didn't want her to drop out of college didn't mean he didn't love his little sis.

  There was the thud against the door. Blue again. Beautiful dog, but dumb as a fern. The dog was whining now. Another thud.

  Levi opened the door and stared down at the dog. "What?"

  Blue looked up and whined.

  "Holland, your dog's out," Levi said. Her door was still wide open.

  There was no answer.

  "Faith?" He went into her apartment. "Holland, you here? Oh, shit."

  Faith was standing at the kitchen counter, plucking at her sweater. She looked confused.

  If memory served, she was about to have a seizure.

  "Faith? You okay?"

  She didn't turn. The dog barked once, and Faith crumpled. Levi yanked her toward him so her head wouldn't hit the counter and eased her onto the floor. She was already jerking, poor kid, muscles stiff, jaw clenched. He turned her on her side in case she threw up. Her eyes were open and vacant, and out of reflex, Levi looked at his watch. 18:34:17. Time the seizure in case it lasted more than five minutes, that was protocol. He wasn't an EMT for nothing.

  He'd seen Faith have a seizure four or five times in school. Somehow, it was scarier now that he was the adult in charge. Her fingers were splayed and rigid, her back arching with the force of the spasms.

  Blue paced back and forth, panting and whining. "It's okay, buddy," Levi said, his hand on Faith's shoulder as her arms and legs spasmed. "She'll be fine."

  18:34:42. Still seizing. What else should he say? Speak reassuringly to the victim, the nurse used to say, and the whole class knew who the victim was. "You're okay, Faith," he said. "You'll be fine."

  18:35:08. "Doing great, Holland. Don't worry. Your dog is here." Well, that was dumb. "Me, too. I'm right here."

  It was oddly quiet, the seizure, just the sound of her shoes rubbing against the floor, the sleet pattering against the window, the sound of her hard breathing. "Hang in there, Faith."

  Shit. It couldn't be fun, having your body and brain rebel against you like this. Her muscles were tight and clenched under his hand, her right arm out in front of her face as if shielding herself from a blow. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Almost done." Not that he knew anything.

  18:35:42. Maybe he should call her dad. As a member of the volunteer fire department, Levi knew there wasn't anything a call to 911 would do; they'd give her oxygen, which did more to make them feel better than because she needed it. No, she was breathing fine, if hard. No blueness to her face or lips. Dr. Buckthal had done an in-service for Emergency Services last year--Marcus Shrade had a TBI from a car accident, and had grand mals a few times a year. The doc said a seizure would end when it ended. Hopefully soon. Helluva way to get a workout.

  Okay, she was stopping. 18:36:04. Her arms and legs stilled, and he could feel the tension start to seep out of her, see her practically sink into the floor as the misfirings in her brain stopped and allowed her muscles to relax. Blue lay down next to her and put his head on her leg.

  "Faith? You okay?" He smoothed some hair off her face. She wasn't shaking anymore, but she was still out of it. Postictal, that was the word, staring straight ahead. The dog's tail started thumping. "You're in your apartment, Holland. You had a seizure, but you're doing fine." She blinked and swallowed but didn't answer. He fished his phone out of his pocket and found the Hollands' number on it. "Hey, John, it's Levi Cooper. Listen, sir, Faith just had a seizure. Lasted about ninety seconds."

  "You saw the whole thing?" John asked, his voice sharp with concern.

  "Yes, sir. Anything in particular I should do?"

  "Is she awake now?"

  Levi saw that he was stroking Faith's hair, the red strands impossibly silky. "Faith? How you doing?" She swallowed and looked up at him. "Your dad's on the phone. You want to talk to him?"

  She blinked. "My dad?"

  "Yep. She's coming around, sir." He held the phone to Faith's ear, and she reached up, her arm wobbling a little.

  "Hi, Daddy," she said. "Um...I...I don't know." She closed her eyes and frowned. "I'm fine. I think Levi...I don't know. Okay. Here he is."

  Levi took the phone back. "Anything I should do?" he asked.

  "I'm coming right down," her father said.

  "The roads are pretty icy." He paused. "I can stay with her, or take her to the hospital, if you think she should go."

  "I don't wanna go anywhere," Faith muttered. "I'm tired."

  "She says she's tired," Levi added.

  John sighed into the phone. "How bad are the roads?"

  "Bad enough to stay put. What does she need?"

  "A nap. Someone to keep an eye on her. That usually does the trick. Damn, she hasn't had one of these in a long time."

  Faith seemed to be sleeping. "I can stay with her for a while," he said. "I live right across the hall."

  Her father hesitated. "You sure?"

  "Absolutely, sir."

  John sighed. "Okay. I'd appreciate that. If you could call me when she wakes up, that'd be great. Generally, she sleeps for a little while, seems a little groggy, but otherwise, she's fine. She probably missed a few doses of her medication. But if she seizes again, call me right away."

  "You got it. I'll check in later."

  "Thanks, son. You're a good kid."

  Levi put his phone on the counter. "Faith? You awake?"

  "I'm tired," she said without opening her eyes.

  "I'm gonna pick you up, okay?"

  "I need to lose fifteen pounds first."

  He felt the start of a smile. "I can manage." He slid his arms under her and lifted her up. Okay, she wasn't a wisp of a thing, she had a point. She sure smelled good, though, sweet and warm. Her head settled against his shoulder, her hair brushing his chin.

  The dog trotted into another room, tail waving, and Levi followed. Set her down on the unmade bed and took off her shoes. "Thanks, Levi," she murmured, her voice distant.

  He pulled the covers over her. Blue jumped up and put his head on her hip. Faith reached out to pet him without opening her eyes. "I'll be out here if you need me," Levi said.

  "Okay." Her eyes were closed, lashes a dark smudge against her cheeks.

  Levi reached out to smooth her hair again, but he stopped himself. She was awake now. Sort of.

  He went into her living room; her apartment was more or less the same as his, minus one bedroom. Unlike his, though, hers looked...homey, which was strange, because she was just back for a little while, so far as he knew. Nevertheless, one wall had been painted fire-engine red, and there was a red-and-purple throw on the couch. A bookcase held a couple dozen books, some photos and keepsakes. A women's magazine was open on the coffee table, as well as a giant red mug with a sunflower painted on it. Her kitchen counter held a vase of yellow flowers. The wine rack was filled, he noted. As it would be, if your family owned a vineyard.

  A gust of wind sent sleet crackling against the window, making him jump a little. It always surprised him, how innocent a gun could sound, like firecrackers. Or sleet.

  Time to be useful. He picked up her cup and went to the kitchen. The dishwasher was full of clean dishes. Taking care to be quiet, he unloaded it, figuring out where things went, then wiped down her counters. Folded the blanket on her couch. Turned on t
he TV, found the YES Network, saw that the Yanks' game had been canceled due to rain. Clicked around for a little while, then turned the TV off. Pulled out his phone and called Everett.

  "How are things going, Ev?"

  "Great, Chief! Um, we had one call asking for help on how to put the battery into a smoke detector--that was Methalia Lewis, and lucky for me, I have the same kind, so I was able to walk her through it just fine, Chief."

  The pride in Everett's voice was obvious. "Good job."

  "Thanks, Chief!"

  "Anything else comes up, just give me a call."

  "Roger that, Chief Cooper. Over and out."

  Seemed like the good people of Manningsport had exhibited some excellent common sense thus far and stayed off the roads tonight.

  He looked in at Faith, who was sleeping with her arm around the dog. She might be hungry when she woke up. Going back to the kitchen, he checked her fridge. A bottle of white wine, an open Pepperidge Farm chocolate cake box, a roll of Pillsbury Dough cinnamon rolls, and a jar of artichokes. Cooking wasn't her thing, apparently. He went back to his apartment, grabbed the container of meatballs and sauce, as well as a box of linguine, and took it back to Faith's. She'd been asleep for about an hour now.

  What to do. Levi drifted over to the bookcase. There was a sock monkey with pink button eyes and a pink bow. A little red vase, a tiny metal chicken. He couldn't, for the life of him, imagine collecting such clutter. A Derek Jeter bobblehead. Here was a framed photo of her family at Pru and Carl's wedding. Looked like Faith had been the flower girl--she was maybe nine or ten in the picture, holding a bouquet of flowers. Pru looked the same, except for some gray hair, and Carl did, too, though he'd thickened over the years. Mrs. Holland had been a knockout, same red hair as Faith, smiling at the bride, her arm around her husband. Jack looked sheepish, Honor pretty. A Golden retriever sat obediently next to Faith.

  He put the photo down and went onto the next one. Faith and a friend in front of the Golden Gate Bridge on a foggy day, both of them laughing. Another showed Faith in work boots and jeans and a flannel shirt, standing in front of a fountain.

  And here was a photo of her and Jeremy. The two of them at the beach, arms around each other. Interesting that she kept that on display.

  He put the photo down and saw her next keepsake--a glass bowl of white beach stones. There, on top, was a little chunk of rose quartz, no bigger than a nickel and shaped roughly like a heart. He frowned, then picked it up and held it to the light.

  "Someone gave me that after my mom died. Left it in my locker at school."

  Faith had changed into some pajama pants (red with Dalmatian puppies all over them) and a Blue Heron sweatshirt.

  Blue bounded over to him and tried to mount his leg. "Blue, get off," Faith commanded, and the dog obeyed.

  Levi put the rock down. "How do you feel?"

  She took a deep breath and tilted her head. "I'm okay. A little groggy. So I had a seizure, huh?"

  "Yeah."

  Her cheeks reddened. "Sorry you had to be here."

  "You should be glad, Holland. You could've hit your head on the counter if it weren't for me." He folded his arms and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

  She gave a little smile. "Wow. A hero yet again."

  "Actually, your dog came to get me. Kept head-butting the door."

  "Really?" Faith knelt down and opened her arms, and the dog bounced over to lick her face. "Blue! You're such a good boy! Good dog!" She kissed him on the head and looked up at Levi, grinning. "Technically, he's a therapy dog, but he's never been put to the test. I guess he's got more going on than I thought. Yes, you do, Mr. Blue! You're brilliant!"

  She looked so...happy. Bright as a new penny, his mom used to say, and the saying seemed to fit. Levi cleared his throat and looked away. "So all this stuff... Are you staying?" he asked, gesturing at her bookcase.

  "My roomie sent me a box of stuff. It may be a sign that her honey's moving in for good. And some of that is from my dad's house. The books and stuff."

  She hadn't answered the question. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

  "Starving."

  "Good. I brought dinner."

  "A multitalented babysitter." She smiled.

  A distant warning bell clanged somewhere in his brain. Faith's hair was tangled, makeup smudged under her eyes. The baggy sweatshirt wasn't doing her any favors--gave her the same shape as a side of beef, and somehow she radiated sex all the same.

  "Call your father," he ordered, going back into the kitchen to start the water for pasta.

  It was impossible not to overhear. "Hi, Daddy, I'm fine," she said, and he wondered if girls ever outgrew the need to call their fathers Daddy instead of plain old Dad.

  For about a week, Nina had thought she might be pregnant, though they hadn't planned on it, and Levi was surprised at how happy the idea had made him. Pictured a daughter right away. But it had been a false alarm, and when Levi had suggested maybe they should toss the birth control and give it a try for real, she'd clammed up. Informed him of her re-enlistment two weeks later.

  "I feel great, don't worry," Faith was saying. "I know, I know. I forgot to get it refilled, but it was a day or two at most...I know, Dad, I'm really sorry. No, don't come down, it's nasty out there. Good thing the grapes are in, huh? Yeah, he's here. Sure. Love you, too." She padded into the kitchen and handed the phone to Levi. "He wants to talk to you."

  "Hey, John."

  "Levi, I was wondering if you could possibly keep an eye on her tonight," John said, the worry in his voice from earlier still present. "She skipped her medication for a couple of days, and if she has another seizure, she shouldn't be alone."

  Levi hesitated. The warning bell clanged again. "Sure. No problem."

  "I'm so sorry to ask you this, but you're right, the roads are a sheet of ice. I tried to get down the driveway and slid right off onto the lawn."

  In a truck with bald tires that had last been serviced in the '90s, most likely. "Don't come out, sir. It's fine."

  "You sure you don't mind?"

  "Not at all."

  John sighed. "I owe you one. Kids. They age you. Okay, Levi. Thanks again."

  Levi hung up. "Looks like my babysitting gig just got extended. We're having a sleepover."

  "No!" Her face went bright red. "You don't have to stay, Levi. Really. I'm fine. I missed my meds for two days, but I'm back on them, I'll be fine. See? They're right here." She opened a cabinet and shook a prescription bottle at him. "You can go home. I've never had two seizures on the same day."

  "I'm staying."

  She gave a huffy sigh. "Fine, bossy. Want some wine?"

  "As opposed to cake or cinnamon rolls?"

  "Chief Cooper! Have you been snooping in my fridge?" She grinned again. "I don't blame you. I'd do the same at your place. What people have in their refrigerators says a lot about them."

  "Really."

  "Mmm-hmm. I bet yours is immaculate. The four food groups, leftovers put in matching Tupperware."

  He stirred the meatballs and sauce. "You're correct."

  "See? It matches your anal-retentive personality."

  "So what does yours say about you? You've got a half-eaten cake in there, wine, rolls from a can and an unopened jar of artichokes."

  She smiled. "It says I go out a lot, make the occasional bad choice, enjoy life and live spontaneously. Do you want wine or not?"

  "No, thanks. Come on, let's eat."

  They sat at her kitchen table, Blue shooting them hopeful glances, his head on his paws. "Thanks for this, Levi," Faith said, glancing at him with another blush.

  "Nothing better to
do on a night like this." The words came out wrong. Her face flushed a deeper shade.

  She took a bite of her food. "Did it freak you out? Jack filmed me once, so I know what I look like."

  He looked at her for a second, saw a little flash of worry in her eyes. "It didn't bother me. Looks like it might be...uncomfortable, though."

  "It's not. Or if it is, I don't remember. They're...blank spots."

  So she wouldn't remember that he'd called her "sweetheart." That was probably a good thing.

  She didn't say anything more, other than to compliment him on the meatballs. The sleet and wind kept up, and while it had made him a little jumpy before, it now felt...safe.

  When he and Faith had been in sixth grade, they'd had this really crappy science teacher. Mr. Ormand, was it? The guy hated kids. Every day, he'd single out a student and just eviscerate the kid, mocking him or her for getting an answer wrong or missing a step in the lab. Didn't matter if you were getting a D or an A; if a kid was smart, he'd mock that, too. "I guess we know everything, don't we, Miss Ames? You must be a genius! Class, we have a genius among us! Isn't it thrilling?"

  Then one day, Faith had raised her hand and asked about studying for an upcoming science test, and Mr. Ormand had said something like, "Perhaps you could read the textbook, Miss Holland? Perhaps that might help?" his voice dripping with customary sarcasm. And much to the shock of everyone, Faith had snapped back in the exact same tone, "Or perhaps you could actually teach, Mr. Ormand? Instead of sitting there complaining about how dumb we are?"

  There'd been a collective gasp, and Faith was ordered to the principal's office. But as she'd left the room, Levi had muttered, "Nice job, Holland," and winked. She'd looked at him, and he'd have thought she'd be scared, getting in trouble for the first time that he could recall. But instead, she'd grinned, and for that second, he'd thought maybe Faith had a little bit of bad in her. Maybe she wasn't quite the Goody Two-Shoes she always seemed. Also, she already had boobs. Just another thing to appreciate.

  Not long after, Faith's mother had died in a horrific accident. The guidance counselor had come in and told them not to ask questions, but Faith's father had wanted to make sure everyone knew she'd been in the car, had had a seizure and mercifully didn't remember anything.