Page 33 of After the Fall
“Well then, let’s give it a try. There’s nowhere else we need to be right now, anyways.” She swerved into traffic, eliciting a loud honk from a pissed-off BMW driver that she’d cut off. She stuck her tongue out in the rearview mirror and held up her middle finger. Fiona was definitely a bad ass. Maybe I needed to start paying more attention to these lessons of hers.
Seattle wasnotorious for its midday traffic, but Fiona expertly navigated the lanes on the highway and we pulled into the parking lot of Sun Valley in record time. And not a second too soon. I shoved open the passenger door to gulp in the fresh air. The car ride had made me nauseous, and I gratefully inhaled the fresh mountain breeze.
Fiona unbuckled and rushed over. “Are you okay?” she asked, worried.
I held up my palm. “Fine. Just a little car sick.” After a minute, when I was sure I wouldn’t actually vomit, I gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I don’t usually get motion sickness.”
She frowned. “I’ll drive slower on the way back.” She lingered as if she had something more to say, but then changed her mind,turning toward the large brick building. “Let’s go see what the situation is.”
The nearly empty parking lot wasn’t very inspiring, but I smiled and nodded, hopeful I’d get to see my mom for the first time in a week.
The same beefy guards stood outside the Sun Valley entrance, looking just as out of place in their business suits and ear pieces as they had the last time I’d visited. I recognized the one with the buzz cut and jagged scar. He’d been the one guarding Mom’s room the night of the intruder incident. At least with Fiona next to me, they seemed less threatening.
Buzz Cut stepped in front of the door to block us. “Reason for visiting?”
“My mom is here,” I explained. “Hope Davis.”
Buzz Cut held up a thermometer. “We’re still dealing with the norovirus outbreak. We’re letting in close family members, but only if they can prove that they’re not sick.”
I nodded. It seemed like a reasonable precaution to take. I looked to Fiona, who frowned at the thermometer. “You go ahead, Harper. I haven’t been feeling the best.”
“Suit yourself, lady,” he growled, then held the thermometer up to my forehead. He removed it after a loud beep, his scowl growing as he stared at the screen, which flashed red. He shook his head. “You have a fever.”
“But I feel fine,” I pleaded. “Please. I haven’t seen my mom in a week.”
He held it up so I could read the screen. “One hundred point three. I can’t let you in. Sorry.”
He didn’t look very sorry. I turned to Fiona in disbelief, half-expecting her to put up a fight, or to tell the man off like she had with the rude saleswoman. But instead, she linked her arm through mine. “Let’s go, Harper. We’ll try again some other time.”
As we turned to leave, a deep voice stopped me in my tracks. “Wait.”
The second guard gripped what looked like a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “You’re here for Hope Davis?” I nodded hopefully, as he glanced down at a small card attached to the bouquet. “These were dropped off about ten minutes ago, but we’re not accepting any deliveries during the outbreak. Do you want them?” He held out the fan-shaped package, wrapped in thick brown paper.
Buzz Cut spoke. “Just dump them in the trash where they belong.”
“No,” I croaked. “Please. I’ll take them.” I reached out and grabbed the thick bundle from the guard’s hands.
Back in the parking lot, Fiona apologized. “Sorry. I knew I’d fail the temperature test and didn’t feel like explaining it to the guards.” She looked at the package in my hands. “Flowers?”
“I don’t know.” I carefully peeled back the brown wrapping to peer inside.
The memories came back in a rush, as the subtle scent of yellow tulips filled the car.
SIXTEEN
The bellto the flower shop jingled as the customer left with a large vase of roses. Behind the counter, Harper closed the till with flourish. “How’d I do?” She beamed expectantly at her mom.
“If this was my store, I would hire you on the spot. You know more about flowers and plants than anyone I know. But I don’t think my boss would be thrilled about hiring an eleven-year-old.” She patted Harper on the head. “Now back to your homework.”
Hope pointed to the small wooden desk she’d set up next to the counter. Joe’s hours had increased at the lab, and he was coming home later and later each night. It was a source of contention between the couple, a fact that thankfully, their daughter seemed oblivious to.
Harper pretended to roll her eyes, though it didn’t fool her mom. She loved sixth grade and had the best grades in her class. She sat down and opened her English notebook, her favorite subject, while her mother disappeared to the back.
The door jingled with the arrival of a new customer, but she barely noticed, her head swarming with literary terms. A largeshadow appeared beside her, darkening her page. She looked up at the intruder, annoyed, but her frown quickly turned to a grin. “Dad!”
Hope came running from the back. “Joe,” she exclaimed, wiping her wet hands on her apron. “You’re done early for once,” she said, glancing at the clock.
Joe gave his wife a peck on the cheek. “I missed my girls.”