A Brand New Ending

Chapter 14

Braeden



I finish up my duties and it's close to seven in the morning, technically when my shift ends. As I walk past the nurses' station, many of the aides are gathered around. I walk over, wondering what's going on. I immediately spot Donovan.

"What's happening?" I ask, knowing something is wrong.

"Code blue man," he says. Death of a patient.

My heart rate spikes and I find myself gripping the counter top.

"It's not her," he says silently and calmly. I let out a big sigh, Donovan turning to me.

"I knew it," he says, his tone of voice still quiet.

We break off from the rest of the group and go down the hallway a little bit.

"I can't explain it," is all I can mutter. "Something about her…."

He puts his hand on my shoulder.

"You always do this." He sighs.

"Do what?" I ask.

"It's because of your mom, right?"

A twinge of anger runs through me, him knowing full well I don't like talking about it.

"I don't know what the hell you are talking about," I spit.

"Braeden, I know we all get attached to patients after a while, Liam looks up to you like a brother. But any time we have a suicidal patient come through here you look like someone ran over your cat."

"I've never had a cat," I respond. Donovan just chuckles.

"Just be careful, is all I'm saying," he shrugs. "She is a human being with feelings, not a figment of your imagination." It was almost as though he could hear my thoughts.

The rest of the day goes in a flash, putting my mind on my work. But no matter how hard I try to shut her out, I can't. When I reach her and Rain's bedroom door, I pause, my heart racing. Pushing it open slowly, a part of me is disappointed when the room is empty. I go inside, quickly making work of changing the bed sheets, her scent flowing around me. The blanket I put on her this morning is balled up in the corner.

When I finish up their room, I turn around to exit when I see her frozen in the doorway. Her hair is up and brushed away from her face, giving me a clear view of all her features. She is more breathtaking then I remember. Her eyes shift from me to the surrounding room. She won't keep eye contact with me. I shimmy on my feet a little. It's now or never.

"Hello," I say. She seems hesitant to respond.

"Hi," she responds softly, her voice like soft music.

We both quickly fall silent again. I can almost feel the sensation in my fingertips, remembering our first encounter. She smiles and I am memorized.

"You look different without your glasses." She laughs.

I smile. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

She shrugs. I hear a loud noise coming down the hallway, snapping me out of this state of nirvana. Donovan's massive figure passes by the doorway, a huge box in his hands. I sigh when he passes, hoping he didn't notice us until I see his figure again coming at us backwards. He just smiles. A*shole.

"Braeden, I need your help," he states.

I curse at him under my breath, not knowing when I will get to speak to her again like this. I take a step towards her, her taking one to the side.

"Have a good day, Phoenix," I say as I walk past her.

I get out into the hallway, shooting Donovan daggered looks. He shoves the cardboard box at me, it makes a clinking sound.

"You're in charge of decorating," he states. I open the boxes slightly, seeing masses of lights and ornaments.

"Why the hell am I in charge of this?" I whine.

"I don't know, because you have an eye for that shit."

"What does that suppose to mean?"

I look around Donovan; Phoenix is watching us in the hallway. He turns around slowly, seeing her as well.

"Phoenix can help you," he states.

She stands upright, almost as though she didn't know we noticed her.

"No, it's ok," I say, not wanting her to feel pressured.

"I'll help," she says quietly.

Donovan just winks at me, and then walks around me and out of sight.

"Are you sure?" I ask again. "Don't feel like you have to. It's not something a patient is responsible for."

"What else am I going to do? Rain went outside to paint," she says. Her face falls into a serious expression. "Unless you don't want me to, or I'm not allowed to."

I smile.

"Some help would be great, since other people around here are clearly incompetent," I say, nodding in the direction Donovan wandered off.

I turn around, heading down the hall. I can hear her shuffling behind me. When we reach the day area, I notice there are more boxes and a tree stand sitting in the corner by the TV. I set the box, along with the others, on the couch. I open my mouth to speak to her until I see a massive tree coming through the room. Donovan pops his head up over the top of it.

"Where do you want it, boss?" he asks.

"I assume where the tree stand is," Phoenix says sarcastically.

We both turn to her, her hands immediately flying up in front of her mouth.

"Girl's got some fire in her," Donovan says shocked. "I like it."

"I'm so sorry," she says, her voice shaking.

"Don't apologize," I say. "You're allowed to say whatever you want here."

She slowly pulls her hands down, while Donovan slides the tree into the stand.

"Well, I'll leave you two at it," he says before turning around and heading back out. Looking down at the boxes, I start to go through them, finding the one full of plush ornaments. There are no glass balls or anything sharp for obvious reasons.

"What can I do?" she asks, her face hiding behind her hair.

"Do you want to do the tree first?" I ask.

"Sure," she responds.

I hand her the box. "I'll do lights, you can do ornaments."

We start working, both of us silent. I want to hear her voice, but I can't seem to think of an easy way to start a conversation. I get on top of the ladder and start to string the lights around the top of the tree. I shift my eyes down to watch her slowly place each ornament on the tree very slowly and methodically.

"Are you OK?" I ask, not knowing if she will answer.

She looks up at me finally. I climb back down the ladder, keeping my eyes on her. I wait for her to respond and, to my surprise, she does.

"Just memories you know," she utters. "Christmas was my favorite time of year."

"Was?" I say, wanting to push her further without hurting her.

"Yeah, well before my dad died. We would always go and cut down our own tree and he would put hot chocolate in a thermos to take with us."

She laughs. I smile in response.

"Which was funny because we never had to travel far from our own backyard to find one," she adds.

So she lived out in the woods somewhere?

"That sounds amazing," I respond.

I hear her sigh, and then add another ornament to the tree.

"What happened?" I ask, immediately regretting asking it. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry."

"No, it's kinda nice to talk about it." She smiles. "If you're willing to listen."

"Absolutely," I say, my heart soaring that she is willing to open up so quickly.

"When I turned 15 my father was diagnosed with Hodgkin's. He was my best friend," she says with a twinge of pain in her voice. She doesn't have to say more for me to understand.

"I'm so sorry, Phoenix," I say softly. "I'm sure that was a hard thing to go through."

She just shrugs.

"I guess everything happens for a reason," she mutters. I don't respond, feeling that information was a lot for her to share at once to basically a stranger.

"Do you like Christmas music?" I ask, hoping she will say yes. She nods.

I had spotted some old records in one of the boxes. I pull them out, blowing the dust off. Walking over to our old record player, I put one on, the music softly filling the room. Heading back over to the tree, I resume helping her put ornaments on, the tree starting to look complete. We are quiet, only the music reaching our ears now. It's a strange feeling. I don't feel like we are in the hospital anymore, but two people just hanging out. Doing normal things. When we finish the tree we continue to decorate the rest of the room, Phoenix has an incredible eye for detail. For the most part we remain silent, her face changing from joyful to gloomy throughout the process. After what seems like a few hours, we both stand back. The room is almost pitch black now.

"Should we plug in the lights?" she asks.

An idea flashes into my head.

"Can we wait five minutes? I'll be right back!" I say before walking off to the kitchen.