Two Weeks (The Baxter Family #5)(17)

Getting accepted to NYU. Only that.

Still there was nothing she could do about this one fact: Cole was the first person she thought about when she woke up and the last person on her mind when she fell asleep. She couldn’t stop herself.

In one of their first conversations, she had told him about her need for a service project. Volunteering at the hospital had been Cole’s idea. His grandfather had worked here most of his adult life and even though he was retired he still taught students here a couple times a week. Three phone calls later and Elise was invited to come in for a background check.

The sorts of things she and Randy had done to get in trouble didn’t show up on a fingerprint test. When she cleared, Cole’s grandpa, John Baxter, called and welcomed her to the program and explained the position. Elise would come in three hours a day, three days a week for eight weeks.

That would earn her a volunteer certificate, exactly what she needed to get accepted at NYU. Already the university knew she was taking care of that requirement. Her first day at the hospital she had met up with Dr. Baxter at the fourth-floor nurses’ station. The man was so nice.

He held out his hand and shook hers. “My grandson says you’re very special.” Dr. Baxter smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be a big help around here.”

“Yes, sir.” Elise thought Cole looked like the older man. They had the same blue eyes. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Cole has the biggest heart of anyone I know.” Dr. Baxter crossed his arms. “If you mean a lot to him, then you mean a lot to me. And to our whole family.”

Elise hadn’t expected to feel so appreciated. “Thank you, sir.”

Dr. Baxter gave a slow nod. “Some of our volunteers listen to the patients’ stories or pray with them. Some sing to them.” He hesitated. “Just be there. The patients will let you know what they need.”

Aside from that first day she’d only seen Dr. Baxter one other time, but even still she felt a connection to him. Though she didn’t tell anyone, she pretended he was her grandpa. The way her grandpa might’ve been if she’d ever had one.

Elise looked over the sheet she’d gotten from the nurses’ station. A rundown of the patients, their first names and room numbers. One woman was bad off. She wasn’t expected to live long, according to the notes. Elise would visit her last. So she could spend the most time with her.

As she went to leave the bathroom, a wave of nausea came over her. She stopped and leaned against the sink. What was this? She’d felt it several times in the last few days. Out of nowhere her stomach would turn and send her straight to the toilet.

Twice she’d thrown up.

She breathed in deep through her nose, anything to keep herself from losing her lunch. It was in the guidelines. Rule No. 1: Never volunteer on a day when you feel sick. It was probably just the salad at the Clear Creek High School lunchroom. Who knew how many kids coughed or sneezed on the salad bar each day? Plus the dressing probably didn’t agree with her.

Yes, that had to be it.

The wave passed and Elise looked at herself in the mirror again. She wasn’t really on speaking terms with God. But if she was, this would be a good time to pray. Not just that she would avoid getting sicker. But that whatever she was feeling wasn’t something worse.

Something a person couldn’t catch.

For a long moment she did the math. This was late January, and the last time she and Randy had been together was about two months ago. Just before Thanksgiving. He had taken her to his house that day, because his parents were never home. And after, when she was still in bed wondering what had happened to her life, she had caught a glimpse of her reflection in his bedroom window. Just the shadowy outline of her face. And a thought had occurred to her.

She no longer recognized herself.

Randy came back in the room, his shirt off. And he sneered at her. “Don’t just lay there, Elise. Get up and get dressed. I’m hanging with the guys tonight.”

And she could remember how his words made her feel. Like she was trash and he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. And in that moment, she wanted just one thing—to be as far from Randy Collins as she could possibly get. She wrapped the sheet around herself and gathered her clothes from the floor.

“What are you doing?” He laughed at her. His voice sounded meaner than usual. “Like I haven’t seen everything.”

He was right, of course.

He’d seen her body too many times to count. But he had never seen her soul. And Elise made a decision that afternoon that he never would. She held the sheet tight around her as she brushed by him.

“Oh. One more thing.” He looked disgusted with her. “If you ever get pregnant, you’re on your own. I don’t want a kid.” He had said things like that before. But that time Elise knew she’d remember his words forever. He raised his voice. “You hear me, Elise?”

She didn’t answer him. Just stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

Only then had it hit her what she’d been doing. How in her determination to rebel against her mother, to punish her mother for not believing in her dreams of being an artist, she had fallen victim to Randy’s twisted pleasures.

Even now she couldn’t bear to think about the months that had led to that single moment. But she had known one thing that afternoon. She was finished. His abusive words and actions, the way he used her whenever he wanted, all of it was over.