At His Beck and Call

Chapter16: Shifting Tides

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The news that had just come is the only good thing this long month has given. Dawson and Conner playfully fought to be the one to tell me the good news first. Watching them laugh and fumble with the phone over video chat was a joyous experience. Conner hasn't smiled much since the incident, and I've been avoiding Dawson as much as possible. The guilt of what I had gone behind Dawson's back and done is weighing me. The chains that shackled after Zoe's stabbing have gained a companion in those that have formed around my wrist. Yet, I've found closure in my accomplishments and Zoe's good health.

My heart skips a beat as I quickly make my way to Zoe's hospital room. My hair nearly smacks me in the face as I abruptly turn and enter. Handsome, masculine men and bright-faced women surround the pale girl whose faded, lavender hair shapes the chubbiness of her cheeks. Her smile and smooth features stop my heart as she spots me.

I can't help the squeal that leaves my lips; judging by the similar noise she makes, neither can she. In a matter of seconds, she's in my arms and being spun around the room. I place her on her feet, but, for the life of me, I cannot let her go.

"Why are you crying?" I chuckle happily as I wipe away her tears. "Why aren't you crying?" she laughs through her sobs. I only laugh more at this. She's awake... and, frankly, back to being the same old Zoe. I've cried so much over her injuries: having her awake is only cause for celebration.

She slowly begins to slip from my grasp. I hold her tighter as her knees begin to give out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dawson says as he detangles from Jasmine and reaches for her. Conner gets to her first, lifting her below her legs, and holds her bridal style. "I'm sorry," I apologize as a small hand covers my mouth. I stand frozen as Conner places her back on the plush bed.

"Careful, love," I'm unsure which of us he's talking to, but I note the way he holds Zoe's hand and his reluctance to look away from her. "The doctor says she'll need therapy due to her injury and being immobile for nearly two months. It's... uncertain how soon she'll walk again." The pain in my brother's voice pinches my heart. He looks down in shame.

"It'll be a long recovery, but I'm sure she'll heal quickly with our support." Jasmin's voice forces my attention to the couch her and Dawson occupy. His arm rests on her lap and their fingers are entwined in a tight ball. She squeezes his hands as she speaks.

"Oh, no, no, no. I'm not planning on having a 'long recovery'. I'd rather bury my head in'a hot pot of grease." The rise of uneven laughter lightens the air in the room.

Jennie chuckles from the front of the room. "So dramatic," she sighs humorously. Her presence had hardly been noted before the words slipped from her. She reserved herself to a wall near the door and hadn't uttered a word until then. There's a glossy, downcast look to her. Her arms are wrapped around herself like a shield guarding a knight.

"Hmm, I dunno, I think that she might not want our help," I shrug and leave the room. My sadness is fringed and my mouth forced into a pout. "It's sad because we all really wanted to help." I eye the other adults in the room. Conner stands and Dawson smiles at me knowingly.

"Oh well, baby girl," Dawson kisses her forehead before pulling Jasmin with him, "good luck doing this by your lonesome."

"Really guys?" her voice takes on a higher pitch as she continues with her dramatics. "Keep her company." I nod and grip Jen's hand as Zoe attempts to chuck a pillow at me. We leave the room, despite her fumbled toss, and gather in the waiting room a few doors down.