Taylor glanced up at the clock. Saralynn was already half an hour late. He was about to give up on her and go home when she came running up to him with an apologetic smile on her face. "Hey. Sorry I'm late. You wouldn't believe how heavy the traffic was where I was."
Taylor put an arm around her shoulders and led her into the restaurant. "Well, where were you."
A guilty look crossed her face for a moment, then disappeared. "You'll find out. But, I can't tell you yet. It's a surprise."
Though he wanted to probe further, he could tell that it made Saralynn uncomfortable to talk about it, so he left it at that and let the hostess lead them to a small booth. He was handed a menu and was left to look over it and talk to Saralynn.
"So, I went over to Mike's house today."
Saralynn spoke carefully, almost as though in anger. "You did?"
He laughed a bit. "Chill. He doesn't do that stuff anymore. Neither does Jay or Elizabeth, but you knew that, right? They are your friends. Anyway, we're going to play miniature golf tomorrow night. Can you come?"
Saralynn looked uncomfortable. "Um, no. I can't. I've got something I have to do."
"What's wrong?"
She closed her eyes and brought her fingertips up to her temples. As she massaged them, she said, "Nothing's wrong. I just have a headache."
"You want to get out of here? We can go back to your house."
"Taylor, my mom's home."
"You honestly think I want to do that when you're in pain? I just want to spend some time with you. With our child."
Saralynn's eyes shot open. "How did you know? Who the hell told you? Was it Jay? Elizabeth?"
He collapsed back against the booth. How had he known? How had it happened? Taylor, you of all people should know how it happened.
Saralynn let her head drop to the table as she began to cry. He sighed and moved around so that he was sitting next to her, holding her. "Sweetie, it'll be okay. C'mon, we gotta get you home. You just sit right here. I'll go call us a cab, okay?"
Saralynn sat up, her face streaked with tears. She nodded, then set her head back down. He got up and made his way over to the payphone. He should have known that their storybook relationship wouldn't always be so storybook.
He kept his gaze on her eyes. She was convulsing even more now and it was scaring him. A lot.
He wasn't quite sure what had happened. He knew it had something to do with some disease that she had and that she was in the advanced stages of it, but he didn't know yet what disease she had. It had, however, caused her to have some sort of seizure and she had taken a tumble down the stairs, breaking her arm in the process.
He dared not look at her arm as it was in three distinct pieces when it should have only been two. It was as though she had an extra elbow midway down her forearm.
He held her closer to him, hoping that she would stop convulsing soon. She had already hit him in the groin several times, but he dared not let go.
He winced in pain as her unbroken arm flew up and ahe landed a punch right on his eye. He knew there would be a bruise, but he couldn't let go of the one he loved. Never.
Wearily, he handed in the stack of forms that he had filled out, in triplicate. He hated red tape. If Krystle was out here now, she'd be able to cut through it all, but she was lying in a hospital bed, temporarily unconscious.
He'd seen so many people pass in and out of here already. Many of them had sent a glance his way. They knew him. They probably wanted to ask him if he was who he looked like. He just wanted to go be with Krystle.
He asked the head nurse, "Is there any way I can go sit with my wife in her room?"
The nurse looked up. "What's her name?"
"Krystle Hanson. That's K-R-Y-S-T-L-E."
The nurse typed it into the computer and then looked up at him with a disappointed glare. "Wife? It says here she's only seventeen years old."
Annoyed, he said, "Yes, wife. It's my child she's carrying. It's me who loves her. It's me who married her with her parents permission. I've got the marriage license if you don't believe me."
Nonplussed, the nurse said, "Just so happens, I don't believe you. Hand over that license."
He dug it out of his wallet and handed it to her. She read it over, then called out to a nurse who was standing a few yards away. "Hey, Missy! We got a wife of a celebrity in out hospital!"
Isaac grabbed his marriage license back and glared at the nurse. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't shout it to everyone. Now, can I got up to see my wife?"
The nurse smiled. "Sure can. She's in room 176. Do you think you can find it?"
Isaac smiled sweetly. "I should hope so. That's what room our drummer, my brother, was in when he was in a coma. Isn't that nice? C'ya 'round."
And with that, he was off to see his true love.
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