Chapter Three

Jordan’s night went sliding off the deep end a little after midnight; dispatch sent them to a two-car accident on I-20, just east of Loop 820. A wrong-way drunk driver had collected an innocent victim in his path.

When they rolled up on the scene, Tim whistled at the two obliterated vehicles.

“Wow,” he said. “It’s a bad one. We might need more than one rig here.”

“I can hear them coming,” Jordan pointed out, and looking in the passenger side mirror, he could see two more ambulances were seconds away from being on scene.

Jordan waited until his partner had come to a complete stop before he leapt out of the passenger seat to move to the back of the rig for the gurney.

But he heard Tim call his name.

“Jordan, wait! There’s a third car involved, and it’s down there,” Tim told him, pointing down.

“Went off the bridge?”

“That’s what the chatter indicates,” Tim confirmed. “Let’s get down there.”

Jordan scrambled into the cab again and they took off, taking the next exit and circling back onto the service road to reach the third passenger vehicle some good Samaritan had just called in.

The rig’s headlights illuminated the scene of a mangled and rumpled car on its roof, its make and model rendered unrecognizable from the damage the vehicle had sustained.

Tim and Jordan could see a Ford pickup parked off to the right side with flashers on, its owner on his hands and knees beside the upside-down car.

“He’s not talking anymore!” the Samaritan called out to them. “I was trying to keep him talking, but he’s not answering me now.”

Tim rushed to grab the gurney and a kit, and they made their way to the driver’s side of the victim’s car.

“Sir, can you hear me?” Jordan shouted as he lay on his belly, shining his flashlight inside the vehicle to try to ascertain the position and condition of the driver.

And his blood turned to ice in his veins.

“Evan? Evan!” Jordan yelled, shoving his arm through the busted side window to try to feel for a pulse in his best friend’s neck.

***

She heard pounding on the door around five a.m. that woke her from a sound sleep.

Hah, here we go, she thought, and put her robe on before marching to the front door.

Karli flipped the deadbolt, undid the chain lock, and flung the door open, prepared for a fight with Evan.

Instead, her jaw dropped.

“Jordan,” she stammered. “What are you doing here?”

“Karli. May I come in?”

Karli blinked rapidly a few times, trying to absorb the fact that the man who had blown her off so easily the day before was now standing on her doorstep.

“Um, sure, I guess,” she said, and moved aside to let him enter.

“Evan’s not here, though.”

“Can we sit down?” Jordan asked, as though he had not heard her.

“Yeah. Come on,” Karli answered, and led the way to the living room.

She curled up on her end of the couch, feet tucked under her, fully expecting Jordan to sit at the other end or in the recliner.

Karli was shocked when he sat right next to her.

“Jordan,” she began, “what’s up with you? You don’t give me the time of day yesterday, and now you’re plopped down right beside me on my couch?”

He reached out and took her hand.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, trying desperately to interpret the look on Jordan’s face.

“Karli,” he said, and his voice broke.

He closed his eyes, cleared his throat, and tried again.

“Karli, there’s no easy way to say this. Evan was killed in a car accident last night.”

She yanked her hand away from his and jumped to her feet, coldly furious.

“That’s not funny, Jordan, and Evan’s an ass if he put you up to this,” she snarled.

Jordan stood up and ran his hands over his face, then through his hair.

“I wish I could tell you this was some sort of prank, Karli. But I can’t. I worked the scene last night…he’s gone,” Jordan told her, his eyes welling.

“You’re… you’re serious,” she breathed, turning pale.

Words failed him and Jordan could only nod slowly as he watched the truth hit Karli like a freight train.

“No… no…,” she whispered, her blue eyes huge with shock and disbelief.

She took one step forward, swayed, then slumped toward the floor.

Jordan caught her as she fell, then moved to the couch, setting her on his lap and wrapping his arms around her as she began to sob, her face buried against his chest – but only for a moment.

Then she wriggled out of his arms and staggered to the bathroom to be violently ill.

***

He followed her, concern lining his features, and called out to her through the bathroom door.

“Karli. You okay?” he asked, and immediately thought, wow, what a dumb question, dude. She just lost her husband. How the hell can you even ask that?

He tried the handle, and when he realized the door wasn’t locked, he opened it and gingerly stepped inside.

Karli was at the sink, taking handfuls of water into her mouth, rinsing and spitting.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and he noticed how pale her face had become, her blue eyes almost luminescent against a creamy white backdrop.

Without speaking, he moved to the linen closet, grabbed a washcloth, wet it, and placed it at the back of her neck.

She flinched and closed her eyes.

“Tell me you were joking,” she pleaded, gripping the sides of the pedestal sink so hard her knuckles were turning as white as her face. “Please, Jordan.”

He put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Karli.”

Now she turned, tears flowing again, and went into his arms.

I would give anything to spare her this. Anything, he thought, and he felt guilty that even though a devastating reason was behind Karli being in his embrace, he was still somehow savoring the feel of her cheek against his chest and her arms around his waist.

I’m a ghoul. A complete bastard.

But he couldn’t bring himself to break contact.

“Does Madge know yet?” she managed.

“By now, probably,” Jordan whispered against her hair.

“What happens next?”

“I’m not sure,” he told her honestly. “But whatever it is, you don’t have to do it alone. I will help however I can. You know that, right?”

“I thought…… you hated me,” Karli murmured between great hitching breaths.

“I don’t hate you, Karli,” he told her gently. “I’m just… not good with people.”

There. A plausible lie. Because this is not the right time or place to tell her I’ve loved her for seven years and counting…

She could hear her cell phone ringing in the kitchen and pulled away from Jordan to go answer it.

“His mom,” she mouthed at Jordan before she answered.

“Yes, I just found out…No, Jordan told me. He’s here now. Um, sure, hang on,” she said, and held out the phone. “Madge wants to talk to you.”

“Madge,” he said softly, and closed his eyes as the woman who had been a second mother to him sobbed in his ear. “I know… I know… Yes, we can be there shortly, I think. Hang on.”

Jordan muted the call and looked at Karli.

“She wants us to come over there.”

Karli nodded her assent, moving into her bedroom to pull on something other than pajamas and a robe.

“Madge, we’ll be there in about a half-hour… Love you too.”

***

While Jordan was wrapping up the call with Karli’s mother-in-law, Karli was standing in her walk-in closet, tears still flowing, feeling adrift.

I can’t leave the house in my pajamas… But what outfit do you put on when your world’s been shattered? Never seen anybody blog about that, she realized. I usually write about this year’s hot hemlines…

She frowned at her brain coming up with such strangeness amidst the worst morning of her life. In desperation she pulled her favorite sweatshirt and pair of jeans off their hangers, then flung them on the bed as she raced back to the bathroom to be sick again.

Once the extreme nausea eased up, she dressed and climbed into Jordan’s truck for the drive to Madge’s house. Every single bump in the road seemed to send her stomach into spasms, and Karli silently prayed she wouldn’t get sick again along the way.

Madge met them in her front yard, opening her arms wide to embrace them both at once, and the trio cried together.