Page 55 of Go Find Less

I noticed, now, what Shelby had in her hands - a new brief, wipes, and a catheter kit. Penny seemed to notice as well.

“Let’s go get some coffee,” she said to Melissa and Zander, putting her tablet on the table next to her and standing.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Melissa half-seethed, and Penny just raised her eyebrows.

“I think everyone would be more comfortable if we had some privacy,” Shelby said in a soft voice, setting her supplies down on the rolling table between myself and Mickey’s bedside.

Melissa eyed me, and then glanced at the items Shelby set down. “I changed his diapers, I can be in the room.”

Shelby’s face matched Penny’s, brows to her forehead. “He’s an adult, ma’am.”

“You’re not making her leave.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation, pointed directly at me.

Zander looked a little green around the gills as he tried to pretend like this confrontation wasn’t happening, staring at the phone in his hands, his long dark hair, the same as Mickey’s used to be, falling around his face. Penny opened her mouth to respond, but Shelby was quicker.

“Mrs. Davis has been doing this for Mickey for months.” I didn’t miss the emphasis on the word Mrs. I was sure Shelby had overheard Penny and I discussing the fact that the Davis’ refused to even acknowledge the fact that we were married. And she wasn’t wrong.

Since the cancer started affecting his mobility, my status was upgraded from wife to nurse. Medication management. Brief changes. Catheterizations. The seizure and his subsequent hospitalization was the first reprieve I’d had from my duties in weeks.

As if sensing the tension, Mickey, half asleep, reached his hand out off the side of the bed - toward me. I jumped up, my heart beating faster in my chest, taking his cold fingers in my own and rubbing them in an attempt to warm him up.

“Well,” Shelby said. “I think that settles that.”

Present Day

AllIwanttodo is text Fitz. The second he walks out my door, I want to pick up my phone and apologize.

But I don’t. I know I don’t have anything to apologize for. And I also know that if we were taking things slow, the last thing I needed was to pour my heart out and tell him the real reason I froze - the fear that ran through my body when I opened the door to find Dylan, knowing that Fitz was right behind me. The fear that felt confirmed when he questioned me about Dylan, as I expected he would.

Jealousy wasn’t a pretty shade on Fitz. But neither was distrust.

“Happy Birthday to youuuuuu!” Everyone drags out the last word, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes as Penny shoves a cake in front of me - red velvet with cream cheese icing, the words “Happy Birthday Piper!” Scrawled across the top in purple lettering.

When they finish singing, I lean forward and blow out the single, sparkling candle at the top, and everyone cheers.

“Happy Birthday,passerotto mio,” my father mutters, leaning down and placing a kiss on the top of my head. I smile to myself, and reach my hand up to pat his on my shoulder, which he’s been squeezing since they brought out the cake. He knows birthdays make me uncomfortable - especially this one. Officially older than Mickey will ever be. A year I’ve been dreading.

But I let Penny pick up a cake, and Mom plan a family dinner with my friends, mostly to pacify her and her need to keep calm and carry on.

“What’d you wish for?” Vic asks, sliding into a seat next to me and helping my mother dish out slices of cake, handing me a corner piece - extra icing.

Shit. I didn’t wish for anything.

What was there to wish for? I look around the table, at Alex and Nolan, enjoying their first night out as parents while his mother watches their newborn, at Vic and Carla, on the verge of throwing cake at each other over something he’d said, at Penny and Brett, and my niece and nephew, Hunter and Aria, patiently waiting for their own slices. My family - the people who have been with me through the worst of the worst - related both by blood, and by trauma. I’m surrounded by the people I love most in the world.

But there’s a pang in my chest as Alex and Nolan lean in for a quick kiss. As I spot Brett’s hand give Penny’s a squeeze. The could-have-beens, should-have-beens, hit me, and suddenly my eyes well.

Mickey should be here.

No.Fitzshould be here.

Mickey isn’t coming back. But Fitz, Fitz could. Would, probably, if I had the ladyballs to text him.

And then guilt, cold and palpable, washes over me. Truth be told, that’s what left me so wound up when Fitz came into my room days before. Not just the fact that he didn’t trust me when I told him there was nothing left between Dylan and me - because there wasn’t. It was the guilt that resonated through me feeling so fucking comfortable in his arms. Like we’d been there a thousand times before, even though this was all so new.

The guilt at the idea of moving on. The guilt directly tied to the stigma of relationships after loss. The guilt that I’m feeling right now, wishing Fitz were here to be a part of this group, even though we haven’t even ventured into the light of day together.

---