Her eyes look into mine and, suddenly, I’m taken back to the aftermath of her accident when we were staring at each other in the small mirror on the visor. Only this time, she gazes into my eyes like someone who is happy to see me. I think I even see the hint of a smile. But she doesn’t even know me. Still, the look she’s giving me …
She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She closes her mouth and licks her lips. Then she tries again. I lean closer because it looks like she has something to say.
“Oliver,” she says, in not even a whisper. It was more like she mouthed the word, but the force of her exhale that came with it seemed to produce the slightest sound.
I look from Joelle back to Sara.
“No, Sara,” Joelle says. “This isn’t Oliver. This is Denver. Denver is one of the firefighters who rescued you. He’s the one who’s been sitting with you all this time.”
Sara closes her eyes briefly. She looks sad.
“I’m sorry I’m not him,” I say. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
I don’t tell her that I suspected he might be at the bottom of the river. I don’t tell her that I called my buddy at NYPD and he said that was unlikely. I don’t tell her that as soon as I leave here, I’m going to leave a rather strongly worded message for her so-called boyfriend.
She continues to stare at me. She doesn’t look at Joelle or even at the nurse who is in here changing her IV bag. She only looks at me.
I walk closer to the bed. “Are you scared?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“Do you know where you are and what happened to you?”
She nods.
“Good, I’m glad they told you.”
She shakes her head.
“They didn’t tell you?” I ask.
She shakes her head and then she points to me. She can barely lift her hand off the bed, but her intention is clear.
“Me? I told you?”
She nods. Then her eyes close and the ventilator machine beeps.
Krista reconnects her to the ventilator. “Almost five hours this time. She’s really improving.”
I lean over the bed and whisper in her ear. “Did you hear that, Sara? You’re still a rock star.”
Sara doesn’t open her eyes, but I could swear I see a little smirk turn up the corners of her mouth. Then her hand opens and searches around for something on the bed. I don’t know what she’s searching for. The call button maybe? I put it in her hand, but she immediately lets it go and grabs my hand instead. Then she relaxes her hand in mine.
I turn and ask Joelle, “Did she do this with you?”
“No. I could tell she recognized me, but it was nothing like the reaction she had when she saw you.”
“That’s because she thought I was her boyfriend.”
The nurse nods to our entwined hands. “But now she knows you’re not, yet she’s still drawn to you. Could be she remembers you from the accident. Or at least, her subconscious does.”
I sit with Sara for hours. Even in sleep, she doesn’t let go of my hand. After Joelle leaves, I get out the book and read Sara a few more chapters.
She wakes up again before I leave, and the nurse asks her some more questions, which only confirms what they told me earlier—she lost three years of her life. Three years. Gone—the instant the car rammed into the side of the bridge.
I think back to where I was three years ago compared to where I am now. It would be devastating for me to have lost all that time. I can’t imagine what Sara must be feeling. I pray she will soon be able to use her voice. Dr. Miller assured us there is a speech therapist coming tomorrow. Sara’s in for a busy day. She’ll have physical therapy tomorrow and every day after that, and while the doctor is hopeful she’ll regain the ability to speak, eat, and walk, he never fails to remind us that with brain injuries, you just never know.
At the end of the day, I find myself hesitant to leave, but I know I can’t sleep here. I’m no one to Sara. Not a relative, not a boyfriend, not even a friend. I have no right to sit and hold her hand, yet I do. And she seems to want me to.
She opens her eyes again before I walk out of the room.
“I’ll be back tomorrow if that’s okay with you,” I tell her.
She nods weakly, as if the events of the day have worn her out completely.
“You’ve got this, Sara.”
Before she falls back to sleep, her thumb points to the ceiling. That small gesture—that tiny movement—lets me know just how strong she really is. And as I walk out of the hospital, I do something I haven’t done in days. I smile.
Chapter Ten
I called Oliver again last night. And this time, I didn’t hold back. I told him everything. I told him about her brain injury. The coma. I even told him she doesn’t remember anything from the last three years—including him—and that the doctor says those memories are likely gone forever. I told him I don’t care if he’s in the middle of the Australian Outback, he needs to get his ass back here and help her.
When I get to the hospital this morning, there is a therapist in Sara’s room. I stand in the doorway and watch him try to get Sara to play cards. Sara’s muscles still aren’t working properly, and she has a hard time following commands. I watch her get frustrated when the guy asks her to find and flip over a certain card.
Then he sees me watching and waves me in. “I’m Neil,” he says, standing up to greet me. “We’re just finishing up here.” He puts the playing cards on her side table. “She’s making progress, aren’t you, Sara?”
She doesn’t answer. She just stares at me the way she did yesterday.
“How long before she has more therapy?” I ask.
“I’ll be back this afternoon.” He looks at Sara before he leaves. “You’ll be beating me at poker in no time at all.”
Sara’s eyes follow me around the room as I make my way to the chair Neil vacated. It doesn’t take me long to realize something is different. I smile at her. “Your fever finally broke,” I say. “Thank God. It was like Siberia in here. I’m not sure if you remember, but they tried to turn you into an ice cube, Sara. I’ve never had ice packs in my armpits, but I don’t imagine it feels good.” I drape my coat over the back of the chair. “Guess I won’t be needing this anymore. It’s June, you know. And June in New York can be hot.” I laugh. “I probably look like a nut carrying around a coat.”
My phone vibrates and I look at it, happy to finally see Oliver’s name show up.
“I’ll be right back, Sara.”
I hop up and leave her room before answering.
“This is Denver,” I say.
“Oliver Compton,” he says. “You’ve been trying to reach me?”
“It’s about fucking time,” I say. “She’s been here for over a week.”
He ignores my comment. “She doesn’t remember anything?” he asks. “As in nothing? Are you sure?”
“As far as we can tell, she’s lost several years of memories.”
“Wow. That must be … wow. How is she other than that?”
“Improving, thank God. It was touch-and-go for a while. But she’s still got a long road ahead. Why the hell did it take you so long to call me?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he says with that slight British accent I heard on his voicemail. “It couldn’t be helped. I was on holiday with some mates. A cruise that just returned yesterday. No mobile service.”
“For ten days?” I ask. “You were on a cruise all that time?”
“The cruise was just a week.”
“Then how about before that? Didn’t it worry you when you couldn’t reach Sara?”
“Sara is an artist,” he says. “It wasn’t unusual for her not to ring me for days, or weeks even, if she was working on a painting. I wasn’t in the states on the day you said she had her accident. I travel a lot, and I went to England for my mate’s bachelor party trip straight away after I left Morocco.”
I try to wrap my head around the unbeliev
able timing of it all. The guy takes a cruise where he can’t be reached the same week Sara has her accident? Something just doesn’t add up.
“She really doesn’t remember me?” he asks.
“I’m afraid not. I was hoping you could bring pictures or something to try and help spark her memory.”
“But the way you said it in your message, the doctor doesn’t think her memory will ever come back.”
“That’s right, he doesn’t. But he also said each case is different. And I’m not giving up hope. Miracles do happen.”
“Miracles?” he asks. “They think it would take a miracle for her memory to return?”
“Maybe.”
“Who exactly are you, mate?” he asks, his tone turning defensive. “You said you’re a firefighter?”
“I’m one of the firefighters who responded to her car crash.”
“Do firefighters always take it upon themselves to track down loved ones? Isn’t that the job of the police?”
“The police found her cousin, Joelle. Joelle told me about you. And I tracked down your phone number. Listen, are you able to come to the hospital? You’ve already missed so much. She’s in a very vulnerable state.”
There’s silence on the other end of the phone.
“Oliver?”
“I, uh … I just got off the plane,” he says. “I have to go through customs. I’ll come straight after.”
“Good. Sara will be happy to hear it.”
“I thought you said she didn’t remember me.”
“She doesn’t. But when I walked in the hospital room last night, she thought I was you. I guess Joelle told her about you, and then when I showed up, she just assumed. But she looked sad when Joelle told her I wasn’t.”
“Just how much time have you spent there, mate?”
I get that he doesn’t want to think about another man sitting with his girlfriend for the past ten days. But I’m not about to feel guilty about it. He should have turned on his goddamn phone and paid the fees or whatever to call from the middle of the ocean.
“She was all alone,” I remind him.
“Right. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
I walk back into Sara’s room and tell her the good news. “That was Oliver. He’s coming very soon. He was on a cruise, and I guess there was no cell service where he was. He said he’s going through customs at JFK, but then he’ll be here.”
She stares at me and blinks.
“Did you hear that, Sara? He’s coming.”
She turns her head and looks at the wall. I wonder if she’s nervous to meet the man she loves but can’t remember. I don’t even try to imagine what that must feel like.
I pick up the deck of cards on the table. “Come on, let’s play cards to pass the time.”
Her eyes find mine again.
I lay four cards face up on her lap, down by her hands to make it easier for her. She doesn’t move.
I pull out my phone and turn on some music. When she hears the Beach Boys song come on, she smiles. It’s a bigger smile than I’ve seen before. She has a beautiful smile.
I nod to the cards. “Can you pick the ace of spades?”
She looks down and stares at the proper card. Then she looks at her hand, almost as if willing it to move.
“You can do it, Sara. Show me the ace of spades.”
Her hand inches over past the queen of diamonds and then her finger lands on the correct card.
“That’s right. Now pick it up.”
She looks at me like I’ve asked her to bench press two hundred pounds.
“Come on, you can do it. Pick up the card and hand it to me.”
I put my hand out, about six inches from hers.
She’s able to pull the card into her hand, but she can’t pick it up and hand it to me, so I reach over and pick her hand up for her, then I extend her arm a few inches and put her hand in mine. “There. See how easy that was? Next time you’re going to do it all on your own, okay?”
Her other hand moves slightly, giving me a thumbs up before her eyes close and she falls asleep.
An hour later, I sit in the corner while a team of people put Sara on that bed thing again that has her standing up and sitting down. This time, her head doesn’t flop around so much, so it’s not quite as difficult to watch. She’s getting a little more muscle control, but she still has a long way to go. I’m just glad Oliver will finally be here to help her along the way.
After lunch, I’m on my way back up to Sara’s room when I hear someone talking on his phone in the elevator. A Brit. And he’s talking about an art gallery.
After he hangs up, I ask, “You’re not Oliver Compton, are you?”
“Denver Andrews, I presume?”
I hold out my hand. “Glad you could make it.”
“I still can’t wrap my head around it,” he says. “How can someone lose three years of memories and not the lot? How can they be sure it won’t come back?”
“To be honest, I don’t think they’re sure of anything. I can’t tell you how many times they’ve said anything can happen. But I’m not a doctor. You should ask Dr. Miller.”
When we arrive at the nurses’ station, I introduce Oliver to everyone. Dr. Miller is just coming out of Sara’s room, so Oliver meets him as well.
“It looks like Sara can be cleared to leave in a few days.”
“What?” I say. “You’re kidding, right? She can’t even—”
He raises his hand to stop me. Clearly, I’m missing something.
“She’s not going home,” Dr. Miller says. “We’re a long way from that. She’ll be transferred to a rehabilitation facility. We don’t have the resources here for the rehabilitation she needs. And now that her fever is down and her injuries are healing, she’ll be better served getting intense rehab at a dedicated facility.”
“But are you sure she’s ready?” I ask. “She just woke up two days ago.”
Dr. Miller nods. “She’s surprised us all, quite frankly. I wasn’t positive she’d even wake up, let alone be able to follow directions and communicate. She’s progressed further than any of us expected her to. So, yes, she’s ready. It’s best to dive right into rehab before she loses any more muscle tone than she already has.”
I peek through the window and watch her sleep as Oliver questions the doctor about her condition. He seems to be mostly concerned with her memory, not the fact that she can’t eat, sit up, or even talk. But I guess that makes sense. He has no idea what he’s in for when he walks into her room. How do you introduce yourself to someone you love when that person has never met you?
Oliver finishes talking with the doctor and then stands at the door, hesitating.
I hang back at the nurses’ station, thinking how my job here is done. He’s here now. I guess that’s my queue to leave. But then Krista nudges me forward. “You should go in with him. She’ll need a familiar face in there.”
“You think I should?”
She nods. “This is scary for her. She needs people she can trust. Right now, she trusts you.”
As Oliver walks in the room, I step in behind him, moving off into the corner where Sara will be able to see me standing behind him.
“Sara?” he says.
She opens her eyes, groggy and confused as usual.
“Sara, luv, it’s me, Ollie.”
He picks up her hand tentatively, like he expects her to pull it away. She doesn’t. Or she can’t.
Sara looks at him, then she looks at me. I give her an encouraging nod.
She looks back at Oliver, studying him as if she’s trying hard to remember. It’s now that I notice she doesn’t look at him the same way she looked at me the first time she saw me, which is confusing since she seemed so upset that I wasn’t him. She looks at him like you might look at the checkout lady at the grocery store.
“Sara. Do you remember me?” Oliver asks.
She averts her eyes and then gives him a relucta
nt shake of her head.
I take a few steps forward. “Sara, this is your boyfriend, Oliver. The one Joelle and I told you about.”
“Fiancé, actually,” Oliver says.
Sara’s eyes go wide as do mine. It almost makes me laugh because it’s the biggest reaction I’ve seen out of her. Normally, it’s like she’s only half conscious, like she’s in some dream-like state.
“Fiancé? Really?” I ask.
My eyes immediately go to her left ring finger. “But she’s not wearing a ring.”
He sits down next to her bed, still holding her hand in his. “That’s because it only happened a few days before I left town.” He looks back at her. “You didn’t want to tell anyone until you could show them the ring. The one I got was too small and wouldn’t fit over your knuckle, so we sent it out to be sized. Isn’t that right, hun?” He shakes his head and then brings her hand up to his lips to kiss it. “Sorry. It’s going to take me while to remember that you’ve forgotten about us.”
“I guess congratulations are in order,” I say.
“Thank you.” He leans over and kisses her forehead. “I’ll pick up the ring today. That way we can start telling people. It was so hard to keep my mouth shut, especially on the cruise with all my mates.”
“Maybe you should hold off on that a while,” I say. “You know, give her a chance to acclimate.”
“The doctor said that the best way to treat her is the way we always did. So my plan is to treat her like my fiancée. Like the woman I love.”
I nod. What else can I do? He’s her loved one. I have no say in the matter anymore.
“You don’t have to stay,” Oliver says. “I’ve got this now.”
“You’ll be here with her? You’ll stay with her all day?”
He laughs. “Well, not all day. I do have a job. One it looks like I need to keep so we can pay Sara’s hospital bills.”
“The way I hear it, she won’t have any problem paying those.”
“Of course not,” he says, looking at me as if he wonders how I know so much about her. “But I still don’t want to lose my job. I’ll be here when I can, mate.” He addresses Sara. “I won’t leave you again, luv. I’ll cancel my upcoming trips and clear my schedule as much as possible.”
Sparking Sara (The Men on Fire Series) Page 9