She nodded, though she must have looked unsure.
“Dude! For reals? He never shuts up about you. It’s always Lis this, and I gotta tell Lisa that. He’s nuts about you. I swear, if he wasn’t already fake-married, he’d real-marry you, like, tomorrow.”
She nodded again, and glanced at Jeremy to check if he was joking. She could rarely tell.
They sat in silence for a while, her holding AJ’s hand and him tilting his chair back on two legs with his ankles crossed at AJ’s side.
“He’ll wake up,” she told him, definitively, after a while.
“I know,” he agreed. “He’s got a lot to wake up for!” He smiled.
“Yeah, I mean, who would want to miss you and me sitting in a room together having an actual, civilized conversation?” she joked.
Jeremy groaned and rolled his eyes.
“Does this mean, we’re-” he swallowed hard, and whispered, “friends?” He said the word as though it tasted bitter in his mouth, then he giggled.
She looked stunned.
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed. “I’m friends with Jeremy? What kind of bizarre world is this?”
They laughed and a comfortable silence descended on the room again.
“You should go home and get some sleep, Lis,” he told her.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
“Lis-”
“I’m fine,” she replied through gritted teeth.
“But you need sleep!”
“We all need sleep. Everyone has been here the same length of time, Jer. I’m not leaving.”
“You have to leave sometime.”
“I’m not leaving until he wakes up,” she repeated.
He looked at her skeptically.
“I’m serious,” she continued. “I’ll sleep here on this very chair if I have to. Or the floor, even. But I’m not leaving his side until he wakes up, and no one is going to move me!”
“But you need your rest, Lis. I have to look out for you while he’s sleeping. Because when he wakes up, he’ll be pissed if no one looked after you for him. And as his best friend, that job falls to me. Do you want me to get my ass kicked? Wait, don’t answer that. Please, just consider it.”
“Jeremy, you won’t win on this one,” she warned.
“Damn stubborn Irish,” he grumbled.
“Did you really expect me to leave him?” she challenged.
“Not really, no, but I have to be able to say in good conscience that I tried! I’ll probably be here a lot, too. And Ana,” he added.
Nodding, she said, “And his parents.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to be fun.”
“You’re not such a hoser after all, you know?” she thought out loud.
“Ok, now that’s just going too far! I have a reputation to protect! Take it back!” he joked, but then added, “You’re not so bad yourself. Now, let’s stop the mushy shit. I’m going to get a drink from the vending machine – you want anything?”
“Please. I’ll take a diet and some crisps.”
“You mean chips?” he queried.
“Yes, but you’re Canadian – don’t Canadians have crisps?”
He laughed as he opened the door. “Back in five,” he said and left her alone once more with the patient.
Sitting there, Lisa didn’t let go of AJ’s hand. She talked to him softly until Jeremy came back. As they sat there, she firmly believed he’d wake up, but a shadow of doubt was lingering in the back of her mind trying to fight its way to the foreground. She knew she had to stay strong, to keep hoping. No matter what the doctors told her, he was going to wake up and get better, and she wasn’t going to move from his side until he did.
Chapter 26
Lisa hadn’t realized it had started raining outside. She loved the rain and its methodical, therapeutic pattering on the window. It calmed her. Jeremy had gone to get an ‘overnight’ bag with some stuff she’d listed for him to bring back to the hospital for both her and AJ. Chelsea had done a decent first pass, but there were a few things they still needed: The Elite League magazines she’d brought over from Ireland for him to read, some books, her laptop, laptop charger and some more clothes for them both. This hospital trip was apparently going to last longer than the original overnight bag was prepared for.
Britt and Ana had both left sometime after midnight to try and get some sleep. They’d both gone reluctantly, and after much debate. They’d left her strict instructions to call at any time, the moment there was any change – with the assurance they’d both be back the following morning. Lisa just sat and watched AJ and his machines, listening to the pitter patter of the rain.
“You even look good lying there in a coma,” she whispered to him, smiling. She stroked his face. “Hospital gowns aren’t exactly a look that many people can successfully pull off, AJ. You should be proud of yourself!” she joked.
Stay positive, she drilled over and over in her mind. If he wakes up and finds you a crying mess, he’ll be upset. Stay upbeat and keep up the not-being-funny-but-thinking-you-are-thing, and you’ll be set.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked quietly, pausing for a minute as if listening to his response. She continued, “You want to sing? Ok, what do you want to sing?”
She thought for a few minutes before deciding. She knew it was likely she’d end up in tears, but if any song could help him wake up, this was likely it. After he’d written this one, his band put AJ’s name forward for a local competition as a solo artist. It was his first solo gig, ever, in a local coffee shop, and he’d orchestrated for one of his friends to call Lisa in Ireland and let her listen to his set. While she was on the phone, he sang his song to her. She had no idea he’d written it, or that he was going to sing it, and it was probably at that point in time she suspected that he loved her, too.
It was a special song for both of them. Him, because he’d been having trouble articulating in conversation how he felt for her. And her, because she’d never had someone write a song for her before, not to mention she just thought it was a beautiful song.
“I don’t have a guitar, Pim,” she told him. “Even if I did, I couldn’t play it! I’ll have to slow it up a bit, and chances are it’ll sound like utter crap, but here goes nothing.” She paused momentarily, cleared her throat and started singing, softly.
The song, All in Good Time, was an upbeat, peppy number. She tried to keep her spirits up as she sang. It wasn’t easy.
“You just call my name if you feel the same for me…”
She was right, by the end of the song, tears trickled down her cheeks. She kissed his hand, what must have been the thousandth kiss since she’d arrived. She could have sworn she felt the pressure change, or AJ twitch, or something. But she convinced herself it was just her being tired and wanting to see signs that weren’t really there.
“Ah, the coffee shop song,” Jeremy’s voice startled her, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he told her as he dropped the bag onto the floor next to her feet.
“Damn. You should wear a bell round your neck!” she said as her heart rate returned to normal. “You made me jump feet! Yeah, the coffee shop song, I thought it probably couldn’t hurt. Although now I’m not so sure.” She laughed, embarrassed that he’d heard her singing.
“You sounded good,” he commented, “I know he appreciated it. He loves you singing with him, for him, at him, about him. He loves it all.” He smiled.
“He’s biased,” she blushed.
“Eesh. You two are so alike. Can’t you just take a compliment and let it lie without having some kind of smart answer to brush it off?”
She went quiet, her face now hot with color. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Thank you.”
“Would you mind if I read to him?” she asked.
“Read what? Chick Lit?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
Shrugging, she picked up one of the hockey magazines from the open bag on the floor and showed it to him. He nodded and gave her a small smile. “Be my
guest, I’m not up to date on my UK hockey.” Jeremy got comfortable in his chair. “To be honest, most of the time I forget y’all have hockey over there.”
Lisa gave him a look of faux-disgust. “The Giants are number one, that’s all you need to know,” she told him flatly.
“But-”
She cut him off. “No buts. Belfast giants, best in the league, the only important team. You dig?”
He nodded, and they laughed. She read the magazine from cover to cover, and, when she had finished, she lifted another one from the table. She never once let go of AJ’s hand, and only left his side to use the bathroom. Jeremy fell asleep. She must have done, too, because before she realized, it was morning. She was losing all concept of time. How long had he been in recovery? Where were his parents?
Ana and Britt arrived with Starbucks, and Britt pulled Lisa aside for a chat about AJ’s condition and the weirdness of the situation. She told Lisa that she felt strangely awkward and unsure of how to behave around her. Lisa confessed to feeling similarly uncomfortable and felt immediately better for having spoken to her. Britt had confided in her that as outgoing and confident as she seemed, she went to pieces in a crisis. “It’s why I’m so quiet,” she told her. “I don’t really mean to be. I want to be encouraging and supportive, of course I do, I just can’t stop thinking about what will happen if he dies,” she choked. “He’s like a brother to me.”
I guess I can add comforting the wife of my unconscious boyfriend to the list of things I never thought I’d have to do, Lisa thought to herself. “You don’t always have to be strong,” she told Britt. “At least that’s what AJ told me the other night. It’s ok to fall to pieces. It’s ok that we both love him – in different ways, of course – it’s just not ok to give up hope altogether.”
Drying her eyes, Britt gave Lisa a quick hug and thanked her for the chat. She suspected Britt felt better about things, just as she did, and while there was no real air to clear between the two of them, she felt like they were a more united front now. Lisa’s heart hurt for Britt; she couldn’t imagine what state she’d be in if it were Chelsea lying on that bed.
Probably in a similar state to right now.
When Lisa had finished her hot chocolate and shoved half a muffin in her mouth, the nurse showed her where she could have a shower. This wouldn’t happen in a hospital in Ireland, she thought, feeling very fortunate to be allowed to stay with him as much as she had.
Feeling a little better, Lisa returned to the room and kissed AJ’s forehead lightly. Turning to sit down, she realized there was a new person in the room. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. He took her hand, smiling warmly,
“You,” he started as he shook her hand, “must be the Irish girl,” he said grinning. Even his voice was familiar.
How do I know this guy? she thought to herself.
“That would be me,” she said, returning his smile.
“I’m Brad.” He added.
“Oh my GOSH! Why didn’t you say so?” she exclaimed, catching him in a hug. “It’s about bloody time we met!” she added. When she finally let him go, he laughed.
Brad and AJ were long-time friends, he didn’t play hockey, but did play the guitar and was in AJ’s first ever band. It didn’t last long, according to AJ. Brad was too much of a free spirit to be pinned down by a band, yet he was always there. They didn’t talk all the time, but when they dipped in and out, or hung out together, it was like old times. AJ often told her that he thought of Brad as a brother, that dependable person you could call at any hour of the day or night and he’d just be there. She’d talked to Brad a couple times online, but he was as inconsistent online as he was in real life. That said, she enjoyed talking to him and for some reason, despite being AJ’s friend, she felt like she could still talk to him about AJ. The good and the bad. Standing in front of her, he felt more familiar to her than most of the others in the room. It was immediately comforting to her.
“Yeah, well, I’m a busy guy – y’know?” he grinned, “It took Age to fake a coma for me to clear my schedule and come meet you.” Lisa shoved him playfully as his face turned more serious. He nodded towards his friend lying in the bed. “How’s our boy doing?”
Looking around the room she asked. “Has no one spoken to you about him yet?”
“They have,” he replied, nodding slightly. “But I want to hear from you. So, how is he?”
She sighed deeply. “He’s sleeping,” she started slowly, acutely aware that everyone in the room was hanging on her every word. “But he’ll wake up and he’ll be fine.” Her voice was strong and confident, and this time she really and truly believed he would be.
“You think?” he quizzed her.
“Yep,” she nodded emphatically. “I do.” She sat on the chair next to his bed. “If nothing else, he’ll want to pummel all kinds of crap out of the asshole that put him in here.” She grinned.
“True story,” Brad nodded in agreement.
“That’s kinda his job. I’d make a terrible enforcer, and I can’t really mess up this pretty face by fighting,” chimed in Jeremy.
“But seriously you guys,” she was now addressing the whole room. “He’ll be fine. He’ll wake up and go back to being regular Pim, or Age, or whatever you people are calling him this week.” Pausing for a moment she surveyed the group. They all looked tired. Some looked pale, frightened and unsure. “It’s AJ, guys. He’s a warrior. He’s a Williams. Plus, he’s got Irish blood in him from his granny. He’s made of tough stuff and will be back to himself in no time,” she told them all.
“You sound so sure,” Britt said cautiously. “The doctors say it’s possible that-”
Lisa cut her off. “Don’t talk like that in here,” she snapped. Her tone was soft, yet commanding. Seeing the look on their faces, she continued, “And no, I’m not in denial, or delirious from tiredness. Doctors are known to be wrong sometimes, you know? Plus, doctors don’t know AJ like we know AJ. Like I know him. When has he ever just given up? He’ll fight this, and he’ll be fine. I can’t explain how I know. But I do. I just, I feel. He will be fine. It doesn’t stop me worrying about him, but I know he’ll be ok. And anyone who doesn’t needs to keep their opinions and negative juju outside of this room, ok?”
Everyone nodded in agreement. Brad looked at her and nodded. A look of understanding passed between them.
“I can see why you two get along so well,” he told her, as he too found a place to sit. “You’ve got a fiery passion in you, or something.” He saw her confused look and rushed to finish his sentence, “I mean, you’re like, kindred spirits or something.” He looked at Jeremy for help in what he was trying to say.
“He means you’re brain twins,” Jeremy added.
Shrugging and going a little pink from the attention being focused on her, Lisa sighed. “I love him,” she paused and glanced at him lying there, so still and pale, “and you just don’t give up on those you love. Plus, he’d never, ever give up on any of us if the tables were turned.”
Chapter 27
Lisa had docked her phone into some speakers and turned on the playlist of all the recordings she had of AJ singing. Humming along gently, she wrote a letter home to Aoife. She was alone, it was lunchtime and, once again, she refused to leave when Jeremy and the others offered her a break.
“Have you been here this whole time?” a voice from the doorway asked. Startled, she turned to see who it was that had spoken. She recognized the couple from pictures AJ had sent her.
His parents had arrived at last. A mechanical issue had caused a long delay, then their flight had been cancelled and it had taken them a while to get to Alabama from Ontario.
Oh crap. Answer them!
“I have,” she told them.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Lisa,” his mom said warmly, extending her hand as she approached; Lisa was still holding AJ’s hand.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, too, Mrs. Williams,” she replied polit
ely as she let go of AJ, shook the woman’s hand, and stood to create some space for his mother to sit with him. AJ’s dad stayed standing next to the door, while AJ’s mom sat carefully on the edge of the bed and angled herself towards AJ. With one hand she put his hand on her lap, and with the other, she gently stroked the side of his face. They sat in silence for a few minutes as she watched her son, lost in thought.
“Call me Cindy,” she told Lisa smiling softly, absently wiping away a tear that had trickled down her cheek. “And this is my husband, Art. How’s he doing?” she asked indicating to AJ. “We spoke with his nurse on the way in, she said he’s stable, but that’s not exactly specific. We’ve had a couple brief updates from Ana since you called and we managed to speak with the surgeon before we boarded the flight. He said the odds of AJ surviving are good, but he was non-committal as to whether he thought he’d wake up or not.” Her face displayed concern, fear and tiredness.
“He’s good,” Lisa assured her. “He’ll pull through this.”
Cindy smiled knowingly at the Irish girl, who sat holding her son’s hand.
Damnit, I hate that look. That’s THE look. The ‘I know exactly how you feel about my son’ look. The ‘I’ve been there and know how you feel’ look. The sympathetic look.
“I hear you’ve been taking care of him,” Cindy carried on, ignoring the color that was rising in Lisa’s cheeks. Seeing the confused look on her face, Cindy continued, “I’ve heard you’ve been singing to him, reading to him, talking to him and just generally looking after him.”
“Jeremy has a big mouth-” Lisa began, blushing again.
“Oh! It wasn’t Jeremy!” Cindy was smiling, “The nurses said you refuse to leave his side. Thank you.”
Lisa nodded. “He needs me,” she spoke softly, not knowing why she was embarrassed to say this to his parents, “and I know if the tables were turned, he’d not leave my side. I don’t mind sitting with him. Weirdly, I kind of enjoy it. I just wish he was awake to talk back to me,” she added, smiling sadly at his parents.
Intimate Strangers (The Lisa Millar Series Book 1) Page 14