Theresa Paolo - (Never) Again

“He’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You didn’t lose him. Look at me.” He rested his hand under my chin, guiding me until my eyes focused on his. “And you are not going to. Okay?” There was something deep within his eyes that made me believe him.

“Okay,” I whispered, too exhausted from tears to speak louder.

“You good?” He raised his eyes to me as he bent his head. And when he smiled my answer came quickly.

“I’m good.”

He wiped a stray tear away from my cheek. “Good, because the one thing I hate most in this world is seeing you cry.”

Zach pulled back onto the highway, but he didn’t remove his hand from my knee. I could have removed it for him but it was the only comfort I had, and I wasn’t about to do away with it. It’s funny. I spent so much time hating him, convinced he was out to make my life a living hell. In reality, he was the only one other than Josh and Sadie who was there for me.

Even when I didn’t think I needed him.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Mostly. Zach tried to get a karaoke session going at one point, but neither of us could get into it. I had too much on my mind, and even though Zach acted as if everything was okay, I could still sense the fear that lay deep within him. I could see it in the way he held the steering wheel. His fingers were tightly secured around the wheel and the determination in his grip told me that there was no room for error. He needed to get to the hospital just as badly as I did. He needed to see Josh for himself. And until he did, that tension wouldn’t lessen.

While his left hand had a death hold on the steering wheel, his right hand rested on my knee, tension-free. In a way, it was sweet how he was trying to hide his fear. No matter what the scenario was, he would always do what he thought was right in order to protect me.

“We’re here,” Zach said.

I glanced out the window to see a large white building that looked more like a five-star hotel than a hospital. The hospital was surrounded by police cars and news trucks. Reporters leaned against them, drinking coffee and waiting for more details on the big story. When Zach pulled the Jeep into the parking lot my heart raced, my stomach knotted, and it was all I could do to keep from throwing up.

Zach got a ticket at the gate before pulling into a space. Could you believe you had to pay to park at a hospital? What the hell was up with that? Normally it would have sent me into a ten-minute speech naming the top ten reasons why it was utter BS, but today my mind didn’t have time to focus on something so pointless.

It took me a minute or two to get myself together before I could get out of the car. Despite my best attempt at keeping them at bay, the tears started again. I dabbed my eyes with my sleeve before Zach reached over me and retrieved a napkin from the glove box.

“Thanks,” I said and took it in my hand.

“You’re welcome. Now, what did I tell you about crying?” He closed the glove box then turned his attention to me.

“Sorry.” I swiped the tissue under my eyes to absorb the tears.

“Don’t be,” he said with a slight smile. “You can do this, Liz. You are one of the bravest people I know.”

“That’s a crock of shit,” I said with a weak laugh.

“No, it’s not. You’re a tough chick. Always have been. When life knocks you down, you wipe your butt off and get right back up. Nothing can keep you down.”

Except for you, I wanted to say. Except for you.

He was right. I hated when he was right. But I couldn’t deny the truth. I was a pretty tough chick. My only true weakness was him.

“Let’s do this,” he said as he got out of the car. He came over to my side, opened the door and stuck out his hand. I took a deep breath, slid my hand into his and walked with him towards the building. Zach might be my only weakness, but at the same time, he gave me strength.

Talk about an oxymoron.

“Miss! Miss! Do you know any of the victims?”

A wall of reporters rushed towards us. Zach’s hand tightened on mine. The only thing separating me from the vultures were two uniformed police officers and easily removable yellow caution tape.

“Did you lose someone?”

My feet stopped moving and my body stiffened as the words hit me like a brick. I wanted to scream, to tell them all to shut up, but my mouth and brain were on two different planes.

Instead I stared at them, looking into their eyes. I heard more screams, but the reporters’ words blended into static. Zach’s arm wrapped around me like a shield and guided me through the door. When we walked into the hospital, though, not even Zach was able to give me the strength I needed to ignore what I saw.

I heard her before I saw her—the blood-curdling screams of a mother who had just found out her child would never come home again. The pain was nearly unbearable as it exploded in my gut. I almost turned around. I almost ran away and never looked back.

Then Josh’s face passed through my mind. His cocky grin, his dirty blond hair falling just above his light eyes. The image of him got me to make the turn that brought me face-to-face with the grieving mother.

I didn’t expect to catch her gaze. I didn’t think she was capable of concentrating on anything else other than her inconsolable pain. But there we were, staring at each other. Tears streamed down her dark skin. A man helped her from the floor and for whatever reason she stayed focused on me.

Maybe she sensed I was about to go through something similar. I hoped I wasn’t, but my doubts started to overtake my rational thoughts.

It was the longest ten seconds of my life.

As I continued to look at her grief-stricken face, a tear slipped down my cheek. My nose scrunched in the way it does when I’m about to lose control of my emotions and I bit my lip as I gave a slight understanding nod of acknowledgement.

Her expression mimicked mine and even though no words passed between us, I knew we were in this together, and I understood some semblance of what she was going through.

She was the first to look away as she turned back into the arms of the man who was with her. I looked on for a second more before Zach pulled me towards the main desk.

A petite woman with short brown hair and big brown eyes greeted us. I could tell by the crease in her brow and the bags under her eyes that this was probably the worst day of her career.

“Hi,” she said, the word a bit too anxious. As if she knew she was about to shatter my world.

I went to speak, but no words came. My throat became hot and dry as a lump formed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get words around it.

I looked to Zach, needing him in that moment more than I ever had before. I might be a tough chick, but I couldn’t do this alone. I needed him. I needed him to be my voice. To give the lady the information she needed in order to find my brother. To let me know if he was alive or dead. She wouldn’t give me the information directly, but I’d be able to tell by the look on her face.

I waited for Zach to speak as the woman waited for one of us to say something. Anything.

If it was the other way around and Josh was the one coming for me, he would have blurted out all of the information. Heck, he would have been searching rooms to find me. But that was Josh. And as tough as Zach insisted I was, I was not my brother. I would never be as tough as him.

I tried to speak again. Another failed attempt. I squeezed Zach’s hand, hoping it would show how much I needed him.

“We’re looking for Josh Wagner. He was one of the shooting victims.” Zach’s voice cracked, and my heart skipped a beat.

I looked to the lady behind the desk, studying her features intently as she typed Josh’s name into the system so that I could recognize a bad reaction.

I didn’t realize I was squeezing Zach’s hand until he shook it to lessen my grip. I was surprised I even felt it. I was numb again. Nothing around me existed. Only the woman behind the desk.

Her eyes scanned the screen and I followed each motion of her head, desperately trying to acquire any sort of information. Anything to let me know that when she opened her mouth to speak, my world wouldn’t fall down around me.

“I just need to make a call,” she said and turned her face away.

Why would she turn away? Did she know I was looking for hints from her expression? Was the information on her screen something she wasn’t authorized to tell me?

My hand tightened around Zach’s again. This time he didn’t shake it away. He let me squeeze until I couldn’t squeeze anymore. I could tell he was as tense as I was. His eyes focused on the back of the woman’s head waiting for what she would say next.

“Yes, Josh Wagner,” she said into the phone. My heart pounded against my chest. I swear it felt as if it was about to jump out onto the counter.

That same vision of Josh lying in a pool of blood flashed back into my mind. I tried to push it away. I turned my attention to the television hanging above the waiting room only to see Springfield University’s campus covered in bright yellow police tape and tons of police walking in and out of the science building.

“I don’t like this,” I said to no one in particular. My teeth bit down on the inside of my cheek. I tasted blood but I didn’t care. Just like I didn’t care that I was cutting off the circulation to Zach’s hand. I needed something to hold on to. Something to keep me grounded. And those two things were all I had control over.

More cops walked past. More sounds of grief echoed through the stark waiting room. It took all I had not to cover my ears and run away.