After Dr. Specter left, Blake insisted that Andrea go on home. He said he would as well, but wanted to stay just a little while longer. Andrea understood. Before she left, she stood by Senna’s bed, reached down to hug her friend, and whispered ‘I love you’.
Blake spent another hour at Senna’s bedside before calling a friend to come pick him up and take him home. While he was there, he talked to her. He shared his heart, his love, and his dreams with her. He told her how she had to wake up, he willed her to wake up, but she quietly slept on.
~~~
At one o’clock that afternoon Carrie knew she had to leave. Her clothes were dry enough, and she had no idea how long it would take her to walk out in her condition.
Dressing was painful and slow. She looked through the cabin one last time hoping that maybe she had brought her cell phone in and had just forgotten about it. But no such luck, it was not there. Her clothes were still damp, and they felt rough and grimy against her skin.
Her good eye was much better. The swelling had gone down enough for her to see pretty well through it. The other eye, though still swollen, was much better and she could see somewhat through it, too.
Sadness overwhelmed her as she stood on the back step looking at the shed. The gaping whole of the open garage door felt like the gaping hole in her soul. She slowly walked toward it and stood looking where her car had been. Through blurred and narrowed vision she attempted to once again search for her phone. She desperately hoped that he had thrown it out before leaving in her car.
Realizing it wasn’t there, she resigned herself to yet one more disappointment; she took a deep breath and steeled herself for the long and painful walk ahead.
It was hard to walk on gravel on a good day, but today it was almost impossible. It was constantly shifting underneath her feet jarring her damaged body. She tried for a while walking on the side of the road, but the weeds were high and she had already startled a snake which in turn had startled her as it slid away into the woods.
Had she not been in the situation she was in, she thought she might have enjoyed the beautiful day. Thankfully, it was not too hot yet and there was a slight breeze to keep her cool.
Stopping several times to catch her breath, she tried to not grumble to herself about how her wet jeans were chaffing her legs and how her makeshift wrap was sliding down, coming undone.
Finally, she was at the road. She looked to her left and thought about the convenience store about a mile and a half to her left. To the right she knew there was a house or two, but couldn’t remember just how far away they were. She thought one was closer than the store, but what if no one was home?
Deciding to walk to the store, she turned to her left. She was now facing the sun that was dipping down toward the horizon. She fought to hold her broken ribs, walk, and shade her eyes all at the same time. Maybe she should’ve gone the other direction.
It took her almost two hours to walk that mile and a half. Normally she could have run it in no time. The miles had taken their toll on her and she was going slower and slower with each step.
Carrie had nothing to do but think as she walked. A lot of thought had gone into who to call once she arrived at a phone. After playing the reel over and over, she realized that the only person she had to call was Randy.
There was only one car at the store when she walked into the parking lot. With what seemed like her last ounce of effort, she pushed the door open. The look on the clerk’s face when he saw her face told her she must look as bad as she felt.
He was quick to help her get a seat in one of the padded booths they kept for diners. He brought her a large bottle of water and asked if she wanted something to eat. She hadn’t eaten almost forty-eight hours but wasn’t sure she had the strength.
With a quick nod he presented his cell phone to her, and she made the call. Randy picked up on the third ring. He hadn’t answered in a bad mood but she was sure that would change as soon as she told him her story and what she needed.
She took a deep breath and began.
Chapter Fifteen
Randy was standing by Carrie’s bed the next morning when she woke up. He’d rushed her to the closest hospital as soon as he picked her up. She had vetoed all of his suggestions to call an ambulance the day before, stating that if she could’ve walked the miles she walked in the condition she was in, then she could withstand waiting on him to drive her to the hospital.
The findings were: three broken ribs, a broken bone in her hand, a cut in her hand from the glass, a broken collarbone, a sprained ankle from the walk down the gravel road, and countless contusions and abrasions.
Multiple tests were done to check for internal bleeding and brain injuries. There had been initial concern that the broken ribs make have caused some internal damage, but that was not the case.
Relief flooded her when she was told that there appeared to be no lasting damage to her eyes or her brain from the beating she had taken. Her field of vision continued to grow as the swelling decreased.
That was the easy part, thought Carrie. The hard part was still ahead of her.
“Now we have to get down to the details.” Randy had out his notepad. The one from Sandy with his initials on it. He was in full work mode. He was now ready to hear the full story, with Carrie leaving nothing out.
She didn’t care if the guy was found. The car, well that was a blow. She had bought it with her inheritance, but her last few days had shifted her priorities. If the car was never found, then that was fine, too. Honestly, she wanted to maintain some shred of dignity with her partner.
When she hesitated, Randy reached out and laid his hand on hers. “It’s all right. I know I’ve been hard on you lately. My life has been a pile of crap. But, Carrie, aside from Sandy, you’re my best friend. In many ways you’re a closer friend than Sandy. Nothing you say will shock me. Trust me, I’ve imagined that you were doing the worst things possible on your nights out. The truth can’t be any worse than what I’ve already imagined, can it?”
Tears flowed down Carrie’s abraded cheeks. Then sobs followed. Randy stood, laid down the pad, and reached to hold his friend.
Randy tried to hold her as long as she needed, but this type of raw emotion really made him uncomfortable. After what he hoped was an acceptable period, he let her go and pulled his chair closer.
Carrie reached for the tissues and looked down at her hands. She wasn’t sure where to start, so she started with the most recent evening which had led her to this.
It took her approximately an hour to tell her story. As Randy took notes she paused for him to catch up. To her surprise, he never said one condemning word, one snide remark, or one ‘I told you so’.
As he wrote, Randy’s heart was breaking. Once she had finished with the events leading up to her hospitalization, she took him back to other times. When she had finally wound down, Randy chided himself that he had been so wrapped up in his own life that he hadn’t seen any of what his partner had been going through. But then she’d hidden it well.
“I don’t know what to do,” It came out of Carrie’s mouth with a sob. “Things in my life have to change, but I have no idea how to make that happen.”
Randy didn’t either. His life was only going slightly better than Carrie’s. His wife couldn’t stand the sight of him, he felt like a stranger to his kids, and he had no idea what to do about it.
“I don’t know either Carrie, but we’ll get through this together,” he tried to reassure her the best that he could. Maybe they could help each other. He knew he would be kinder to her from now on. She had never deserved what he had dished out. And neither had Sandy nor his kids. He had to find a way to do better, be better, too.
“Does Bracket know?” asked Carrie. That would be another painful conversation.
“He does. He’s a kind man, Carrie. We are fortunate to have him,” Randy knew he was sincere. Bracket had been the one person Randy had confided in lately. He himself was not a perfect man, and he was compas
sionate when others failed.
“I have to go for now,” Randy said as he stood to go. He reached out one last time and patted Carrie’s good hand. It will be okay. I promise.
“How can you promise?” asked Carrie.
Randy looked at her, then away, and left the room. She was right. How could he make such a promise?
~~~
Blake was at the hospital early Monday morning. He had not slept well at all. His heart and his mind was on Senna.
So by 6:00 a.m. he was on his way. His mind was retracing events from Sunday in an attempt to find a clue, any clue of what could have caused Senna’s collapse.
Why had she not told him she’d been able to get in to see the psychiatrist on Friday afternoon? And moreover, why had she not told him it was a psychiatrist rather than a licensed counselor?
Blake was sure it was too personal for Senna. She may have been embarrassed by the whole situation and was just too uncomfortable to talk about it, even to him.
He tried to not worry. He was not a worrier by nature, but with Senna, how could he not worry about her?
Blake remembered her lying in the bed so still, with her hands to her sides. She had looked so peaceful. Her skin had been pink and he could see no outward sign that would keep her asleep.
The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever even though it had only been about twenty minutes. He quickly found a parking place and soon was entering Senna’s room.
Turning the corner to her room, his hopes were crushed when he could see no noticeable change. He went straight to her bed and picked up her hand. It was so soft, but limp. He bent down to kiss it.
The chair scraped loudly as he pulled it up to Senna’s bed, but she didn’t stir or flinch. Could she hear anything at all, he wondered? His mind searched for suggestions of what he could do to help her.
“Senna, I’m here,” Blake began. ”It’s Blake. Baby, I want you to wake up for me now.” Panic tried to set in and he choked up from her lack of response.
The morning continued to come alive inside the hospital. Soon the noises increased in the hallway. He knew he needed to go to work, but he couldn’t make himself move.
Blake had called his partner Charles yesterday and explained to him what had happened. Charles was adamant that he take as much time as he needed. Things were covered at the office.
But Blake had a sense of duty to his clients and was torn. He felt completely helpless here watching Senna sleep, but how could he leave her?
The nurses were coming and going, checking her vital signs. They were patient and kind. Two hours after he had arrived, Dr. Specter knocked quietly on the door frame as she entered the room.
Blake rose to greet her with a handshake. Pulling up another chair on the other side of Senna’s bed she asked, “Any change?”
All Blake could do was shake his head. He took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know what to do.” His voice sounded hopeless. He had waited for so long to find the right woman, the right woman for him, that is. He was thirty-three and just when he was not sure if he would find someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, suddenly there was Senna.
“Blake, could I have some time alone with Senna?” Dr. Specter asked.
Surprised, Blake agreed. What could she possibly do?
He decided to go get some coffee. He knew the walk would do him good.
As soon as Blake left the room, Dr. Specter closed the door and stood close to the head of Senna’s bed.
“Senna, I know you can hear me. This is Dr. Specter.” She picked up Senna’s hand and sat on the edge of her bed. Leaning in she said, “I know you are there. You need to come back to us now.”
Senna’s countenance showed no response; however, the monitor showed an elevation in her heart rate. Dr. Specter continued. “Senna! Come out and talk to me.” She said with slightly more force.
As Blake pushed the door to enter Senna’s room, Dr. Specter was rushing out, and they nearly collided.
“Sorry!” she exclaimed. “I-I didn’t realize how late it was. I really have to run.”
Blake nodded and watched her hurry away. How odd, he thought. She’d appeared calm and cool to Blake, but she was definitely flustered for some reason. Maybe it was just what she’d said, late for an appointment.
~~~
Carrie was restless. She’d tried hard to rest in the hard hospital bed. Moving still hurt even though the morphine drip helped greatly. The doctor had told her that, due to the severity of her injuries, they wanted her to stay in the hospital at least three days, maybe four. They also wanted to continue to monitor brain activity to make sure they had not missed something there.
She wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed. But she couldn’t do anything for herself, even get up and go to the bathroom, so she knew she was better off where she was. Had she been at home there would be no one there to help her.
Sometime after lunch, the nurse agreed that it would be good for her to take a walk down the hall and back. Carrie was stiff, and the pain was still so intense that she almost begged to crawl back into bed, but she knew movement would help her recover.
Her nurse walked with her for several feet down the hall. When she saw that Carrie was doing well, she left her to walk by herself assuring her that she was close by. The going was slow. She clung to her IV pole and took short slow steps.
Carrie thought the hallway was long, but she was determined to make it to the end and back. Once at the end, she stopped to gaze out of the large window. It was another beautiful spring day.
She leaned her head on the window watching the traffic on the highway below. The glass was cool on her skin and felt good. Still feeling broken emotionally, she thought how she had failed herself, and those around her.
Finally she was in dire need of lying back down, but still had that long hallway to traverse, so she started back. As she walked back, she glanced into the rooms she passed. Most had their doors open and were filled with patients.
It was quiet, however, in the hallway. The nurses had done their medication rounds and were now busy behind the desk completing paperwork and charting.
Two rooms down from her room a figure of a young lady laying on her back deathly still caught her attention. She stood in the hallway looking into the room for a moment. Something about her seemed familiar but Carrie could not associate her with a place or time in her memory.
The nurse came to check on her and asked if she was okay. “I am. I think I know this patient but can’t remember where from. What’s wrong with her?” asked Carrie.
“I’m not supposed to discuss other patients with you, but honestly no one knows what’s wrong with her.” The nurse was subtly routing Carrie back to her room.
Getting back into bed after a bathroom break caused the bed to feel good rather than hard. It’s all relative, she thought. The bed is certainly better than the hard cold floor of the cabin.
That property had been in her family for years. Her grandparents had willed it to her, and she remembered playing there as a child. It had been a fun spot for them to get away from the busy city.
There was a small lake in the woods behind the cabin, beyond the shed. She and her dad had fished there for hours growing up. Her mom would fry the fish once dad had cleaned them and they would enjoy a good meal.
She had once heard someone say you can’t spoil a child by loving them too much, but she thought she’d had some of both. Her parents had doted on her. They loved her and they showed her that they did. They had also not denied her whatever she had wanted. Then...
Then she got that call. She had just been selected to join the OSBI and was to start the following week. Her life was perfect. She had a great guy, the job she was starting was her dream job, and a family who loved her dearly.
When the phone rang, it was like any other day. She was riding high on the joy of all things going well. “Is this Carrie Border?” Why should those words feel so ominous?
Four simple w
ords. If you’re getting a telemarketing call, that is what they say, and you chalk it up and hang up. For almost any occasion, those four words would not stop your world from spinning. But that day it did. It was his tone. It stopped her cold, and she knew, just knew those words would proceed something horrible.
“Yes, this is Carrie,” her breath caught. She waited for the blow to hit.
“Can you come to Hope Memorial Hospital? Your parents have been in a car accident.”
There it was. The worst possible news. But hope still lived. If they were at the hospital, then they were only injured and they would recover. But somewhere deep inside she knew better.
She simply hung up the phone without responding. She’d jumped in her car and fought the icy roads to get to the hospital. Her grandparents had both passed years ago. It had been very traumatic, but they’d had long-term illnesses and, when they had each individually passed, it had been no surprise. If her parents died she would be alone, completely alone. Well, except for Billy that was.
When she arrived at the hospital, Carrie rushed into the emergency room. Before long, she was met by the doctor whose face told her what she didn’t want to hear. Before a single word was said, she knew and collapsed on the floor.
They had to find her a bed and sedate her. The funeral was a vague memory as was the first few weeks at her new job. She was never the same after that phone call. She’d hardened herself to ward off hurt. She threw herself into her job and told herself she needed no one.
Billy had become a casualty of that change. He had tried to be there for her and to comfort her, but nothing he did helped. She made it clear, repeatedly, that she was shutting everyone out, including Billy, so finally he was forced to leave her, too.
For years, she had told everyone and especially herself, that she loved her job so much that she didn’t need another relationship. But the truth was, she did.
As she lay on the hard hospital bed, she was forced to answer the question, is it more painful to shut everyone out or to experience the pain of loss? She had experienced both, but now she knew she was ready to risk the pain of loss over the pain of isolation.
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