Page 15 of A Constant Reminder

Chapter 9 – Tyler

Making love to Sam the previous night was amazing. I’d never felt more connected to anyone in my entire life.

I’d left her upstairs in bed while I snuck down to start a pot of coffee and try to get a little work done. With all my time lately spent at home with Sam, I’d at least been trying to be somewhat productive.

With only a few months left until I graduated with a degree in Software Design, I had started working on an app to help people track their money in a more manageable way.

My parents were shitty I wasn’t going into the family real-estate business, but I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted to put my own stamp on the world. Besides, if all my siblings were following their own paths, why shouldn’t I get to do the same?

Just as I sat down at the computer, my phone started to buzz on the desk next to me. The number popped up as the local hospital.

“Hello?” I answered quickly.

“Hello Mr. Wendell, this is Dr. Wilshire.”

“Oh good morning, doctor.”

“Good morning. I was just calling to check in on Sam.” Her tone was parading as cheerful, but I could hear concern coating her words

“Oh, she seems to be doing great actually. Bruises are all starting to heal, and her arm doesn’t seem to bother her at all…except that she hates the cast.” I chuckled, but the doctor didn’t reciprocate.

“What I’m more so asking about is her state of mind. How is she handling things?”

“Surprisingly, really well. She seems to be in a really good place.”

A heavy sigh breathed into the phone. “That’s what I was afraid of. Look, Mr. Wendell, I’m worried. When trauma like this happens, the mind needs to deal with it. If she pretends it didn’t happen, things can become much worse later. I don’t want her to fall into a depression she might not be able to dig herself out of.”

Although I knew I would be there to help Sam however I could, I wasn’t entirely clear how to do that.

“Well, what can I do, doc?”

“See if you can get her to talk to someone…anyone. If it’s not someone professional, see if maybe she will open up more with you or another close friend. Talking about it, no matter the context, should help.”

I agreed to do my best but getting Sam to talk to me would be tough and getting her to go see a shrink would be damn near impossible. She wasn’t the talkative type especially about her problems and especially with people she didn’t know.

Once she was satisfied with my answer, we said our goodbyes, but not even a minute later, my phone buzzed again. This time with a number I didn’t recognize.

“Hello?” This time, my tone was a bit more clipped.

“Mr. Wendell? This is Detective Macintosh.”

A pang of uncertainty hit my gut, making me feel suddenly nauseated. “Hello Detective, what can I do for you this morning?”

“Well, I tried calling Miss Flemming, but no answer. I was hoping she was with you.”

Her phone must have still been off. “Yeah, she is. Let me get her for you.”

“Actually, would you mind if I just came by?”

I prayed for good news, but his tone didn’t suggest that was what was forthcoming.

“Sure, that would be fine.”

“Great. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes.” He said before hanging up.

And I headed upstairs to get Sam out of bed…worried about what the rest of the day would bring.

Thirty minutes later, we were both downstairs anxiously awaiting the doorbell.

---