desertion

128

LYDIA

The smell of eggs filled the kitchen, mixing with the warm scent of toasted bread as I flipped another sandwich onto the plate. The counter was lined with neatly wrapped breakfast sandwiches, each folded in wax paper and sealed with care. It wasn't anything fancy-just eggs, cheese, and bacon on a toasted roll-but it felt like something I could do, something small but meaningful for them.

"Christopher!" I called, wiping my hands on a dish towel. "Almost time to go, you ready?"

A moment later, I heard the soft shuffle of his feet. He appeared in the doorway, a huge smile lighting up his face as he held out a piece of paper toward me. "Look! I made this for Buck."

I crouched down, taking the drawing gently from his hand. It was a colorful, vibrant picture of a firefighter with a big grin standing next to a smiling sun. Buck's name was written at the top in bold, uneven letters. My chest tightened, but I managed a smile. "He's going to love it."

Christopher beamed, his excitement contagious even in the midst of everything. "Are we going now?"

"Yep, just let me grab the sandwiches," I said, packing them into a big lunchbox before slinging it over my shoulder. I held out my hand. "Come on, let's go."

The drive to the hospital was quiet, save for the faint hum of the car engine and Christopher softly humming a tune in the backseat. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard every few minutes, anxiety bubbling in my chest.

6:45 AM.

I needed to be at work by 7:30 to help with opening. Normally, my shifts didn't start until 9:00, but I'd asked for an earlier one so I could watch Christopher later. Dad didn't love the idea, but I couldn't let anyone else handle it. Carla was off this week, and she deserved a break.

When we pulled into the hospital parking lot, I parked as close to the entrance as I could manage. The sky was still gray, the sun just starting to peek through the clouds.

"Come on, Chris," I said, grabbing the lunchbox and opening his door.

He climbed out carefully, and I held his hand as we made our way inside.

Hen and Chimney were sitting in the waiting room when we arrived, their heads bent together in quiet conversation. They looked up as soon as they saw us, their faces softening when they spotted Christopher.

"Chris!" Hen said warmly, her eyes lighting up.

"Hi!" Chris greeted, his smile wide as he walked over to them. They immediately started chatting, and I took a deep breath, turning my attention to the two firefighters.

"Where's Dad?" I asked, glancing around the room.

Chimney pointed down the hall. "He's in the back with Bobby, Maddie, and her parents."

I nodded, handing them each a sandwich. "Here. Breakfast."

Hen took hers with a grateful smile. "You didn't have to do this, Lydia."

"It's no big deal," I said, giving a small shrug.

The walk down the hall felt longer than usual. The hospital was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy and unnatural. My shoes squeaked faintly against the polished floors, the sound echoing in the stillness.

When I reached the nurses' station, I asked about Buck's room and followed the directions down another hallway. My steps slowed as I approached the door.

Dad was the first to notice me. He turned around, a tired smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. He pulled me into a quick side hug, kissing the top of my head.

"You didn't have to come so early," he said softly.

"I wanted to," I replied, pulling away to dig into the lunchbox. I handed him a sandwich before passing them out to Bobby, Maddie, and Maddie's parents.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Maddie's mom said, her voice kind and sincere.

I nodded, murmuring, "I'm glad I made extra."

Then my eyes drifted to Buck.

The sight of him took my breath away. He looked so small, so fragile, lying there with the tube in his mouth and the machines beeping softly around him. My throat tightened, and I had to look away.

I turned back to Dad. "Chris is with Hen and Chim, but I have to get to work."

Maddie's head snapped toward me. "Work? Why are you going in so early?"

"I took an earlier shift so I can get off to watch Chris," I explained.

Dad frowned. "Carla can watch him."

I shook my head firmly. "It's her off week. I'm not going to ask her to do anything on her time off."

"She wouldn't mind," Dad argued.

"No," I said, more forcefully than I intended. "I've got it handled."

Bobby placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Just don't stress yourself out, okay? You've been pushing yourself hard enough as it is."

"I'm fine," I said quickly, stepping back toward the door. "I love you guys."

Dad's voice followed me as I walked away. "Love you too, kid."

The pizzeria smelled like dough and grease when I walked in. It was usually a comforting smell, but today, it felt suffocating.

I tied my apron around my waist, mentally bracing myself for the day ahead. The opening shift was supposed to be calm, a time to ease into the workday. But as soon as I walked into the kitchen, Rylan was on me.

"You're late," he snapped, his arms crossed.

"I'm five minutes late," I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.

"Five minutes is still late," he shot back.

I bit back a sigh, turning to wash my hands. "It won't happen again."

"It better not," he muttered.

The rest of the morning was a disaster. I spilled a tray of sauce, forgot to write down a special order, and accidentally gave the wrong pizza to a delivery driver. Rylan was on me for every little mistake, his voice growing louder and angrier with each reprimand.

"Lydia, are you even paying attention?" he barked after I accidentally dropped a handful of toppings on the floor.

"I'm trying," I said through gritted teeth, bending down to clean up the mess.

"Trying isn't good enough," he snapped. "If you can't handle it, maybe you shouldn't be here."

His words stung, but I swallowed my retort, focusing on cleaning up the spilled toppings.

By the time my shift ended, I was exhausted-physically and emotionally. My head was pounding, my feet ached, and I felt like I was on the verge of tears.

I clocked out without saying a word, grabbing my things and heading straight for my car. The drive home was a blur, my mind too foggy to focus on anything other than the overwhelming need to collapse into bed.

But I couldn't. Chris was waiting for me. And so was the hospital.