Say the Word(28)

“Well, no. Not exactly,” I hedged.

“So you’re saying you don’t want to be seen with me?”

“No! That’s not my point here,” I whispered in a frustrated voice. He was twisting my words, muddling my argument.

“What is your point, then?” he asked. “Because if Jamie wants visitors, I want to visit, and you have no issues with it… I don’t see the problem.”

“But— Well—” I spluttered, at a loss for words. Somehow this entire conversation had been steered out of my control, and I had no idea how to get it back. I opened my mouth to protest again, but froze abruptly when I heard it.

The sudden, unmistakable sound of the heart monitor in Jamie’s room as it stopped its rhythmic metronomic beeping, and instead released a horrifying, long tone that pierced the air and made every inch of my body break out in gooseflesh. I knew that sound — I spent my every waking moment dreading its arrival.

A flat line.

Jamie’s heart had stopped.

My terrified gaze met Sebastian’s for one suspended instant before I sprang into action, racing around the corner that concealed us from view and sprinting into Jamie’s room.

“Help!” I called over my shoulder, hoping someone at the nearby nurse’s station would hear my cries. “His heart’s stopped!” I could feel the tears of panic gathering behind my eyes, and I sensed Sebastian’s presence close behind me as we stopped short at Jamie’s bedside. Distantly, I registered the sounds of nurses yelling for the crash cart, wheels and sneakers moving on the squeaky linoleum floors.

I looked at Jamie and felt my own heart stop.

“Hey, sis,” he said, grinning at me from his bed. I watched, dumbfounded, as he fiddled with the heart monitor wires on his right wrist. When the electrodes slid back into place, the flat line ceased abruptly and the sound of his strong, even heartbeats filled the room.

“Sorry, Wendy!” Jamie called to the harried woman in scrubs standing in the doorway. “False alarm. These dang electrodes just won’t stay on, today.” My head swiveled back and forth between them and I watched as he winked at her and she smiled in return.

“Haven’t you heard the story of the boy who cried wolf, James?” she asked with a disapproving tsk sound. “Just do me a favor and don’t mess with the wires when Benita is on the floor. She’s cranky enough these days.” With a playful wave in my direction, Wendy left the room, shooing out the crash cart response team as she went.

“So, sis, how goes it?” Jamie asked, leaning back on his bed in a pose of full relaxation.

I stared at him, vibrating with anger. I heard Sebastian let out a snort of laughter behind me, and promptly elbowed him in the ribs.

“James Arthur Kincaid, you are in so much trouble!” I hissed, striding closer to the bed.

“Aw, come on sis. Don’t have a heart attack,” he joked. Looking around me to Sebastian, he asked, “Too soon?”

“You might want to let her cool down a little before throwing around the heart failure jokes,” Bash advised with a grin. I glared icily at them both in quick succession.

“What the hell were you doing, Jamie? Trying to scare me to death?” I asked.

“Oh, relax. Without my little flat line, you two would still be out in the hall bickering about whether Sebastian here could come in and see me, and my precious visiting hours would be wasting away,” he said. “Also, I want my contraband.”

“Contraband?” Bash asked, his brows lifting amusedly.

“Maybe you don’t deserve it,” I told Jamie.

“Give it up, sis, or I tell Sebastian the fish food story.”

“You wouldn’t!” I cried indignantly.

“Oh, I would,” he promised, a gleeful grin spreading across his face.

“I want to hear the fish food story,” Sebastian chimed in.

“Fine, you devil,” I said to Jamie, unzipping my backpack and handing over three Cadbury chocolate bars. “Not a word about fish food, or that will be the last candy you get from the outside world.”

“Like you’re my only source,” he snorted, making light of my threat. But I knew he’d keep his mouth shut. Jamie might tease me, he might do his best to drive me up the wall with his antics and practical jokes, but he’d never do something that would genuinely hurt me.

“Chocolate?” he offered around a mouthful of candy, extending the half-wrapped bar in Sebastian’s direction.

“Nah, I’m good,” Bash replied, dragging one of the stiff-backed wooden chairs away from the wall and positioning it next to Jamie’s bed. He promptly flopped down in it, turned to my twin, and struck up a conversation about the Bulldogs’ postseason performance. Jamie’s eyes lit up instantly — it’d been a long time since someone talked football with him.

While Jamie was a full-fledged Auburn-hating, UGA-loving “dawg,” I shunned my Georgian roots with my total lack of interest in our state sports teams. Once terms like NCAA and SEC started floating around, I was more liable to nod off than join in the conversation — not exactly an ideal chatting partner when it came to discussing the Deep South’s Oldest Rivalry.

All things considered, it was pretty remarkable we’d shared a womb for nine months.

Within minutes, as was inevitable whenever boys talked football, a heated debate had broken out concerning next season’s new recruits. Sebastian was confident they’d have the sheer talent to take us all the way through the bowl games with certain victory, while Jamie contended that their inexperience would make for an uncoordinated, unsuccessful performance on the field.