by Brown, Dick
In spite of her pain, Ann laughed at the two women’s predicament.
“It’s a good thing I have all that extra padding back there,” Sylvia said, laughing and pulling herself up on one knee. “Give me your hand, I’ll help you up.”
“Okay, but I can’t put any weight of on my ankle.”
Sylvia put Ann’s arm over her shoulder and wrapped her right arm around Ann’s waist then the two women hopped and wobbled up the steps and into the house.
Both her children were waiting to greet her.
“Mommy’s home, and I’ve missed you so much,” she said as she limped through the front door and knelt down. Libby and Ricky ran into her outstretched arms and smothered her with hugs, almost knocking her over.
“What in heaven’s name happened?” Alice asked, coming into the foyer from the kitchen.
“I turned my ankle when I jumped down out of that damned Jeep,” Ann responded.
Ann limped into the living room, where a crackling fire warmed her back before she sat on the couch. Sylvia scurried around and located a stool to elevate Ann’s ankle.
Alice went back into the kitchen then returned with a pan of heated water spiked with Epson Salt. Ann tried to relax as she soaked her ankle in the hot salt water solution that took away the throbbing pain and replaced it with the burning sensation from salt water.
“Do you know where I’ve been?” Ann quizzed the children, signing for Libby.
“To visit Daddy in the hospital,” Ricky said.
“That’s right. Daddy got hurt really bad in an accident and is unconscious.”
“What is that?” Libby signed.
“He’s asleep, silly.” Ricky spoke slowly, looking straight at Libby as he signed. “Like when you get hit on the head with a baseball and it knocks you out.”
Amazed at her young son’s comprehension of the term, Ann continued. “That’s right, Ricky, he got a real hard knock on his head when the truck rolled down the mountain into a big tree.”
“Wow! Daddy rolled his truck down the mountain?”
“He did,” Ann said softly.
A stern glance from Alice conveyed her message. That was enough. She didn’t think they needed to know the gory details about the tanker and fire that burned the truck driver.
“Can we go see him?” Ricky asked.
“Let’s wait until Daddy feels better, and then you and Libby can go for a visit, okay?”
“Okay, but I hope he wakes up soon, I miss him,” Ricky said.
Ann pulled her children close and hugged them tightly so they couldn’t see a tear escape from her brimming eyes.
“You two go play while Mommy, Nanna, and Grammy visit,” Alice said, ushering the children out of the room.
Ann dabbed her eyes dry while Sylvia brought fresh coffee. The three women planned just how they were going to handle things in the coming weeks.
But Ann noticed someone was missing. “Where is Marie?”
“Ronnie came by for her,” Alice said. “She wanted to go home. We asked her to stay, but she felt like she was intruding.”
“I hope she’ll be all right,” Ann said. “Maybe she can go back up with us some time to check on her sister. I’ll call her later. Right now I need to get a shower and pack some clothes.”
“You need to soak your ankle for another thirty minutes before you try to walk on it,” Alice advised. “And just how long do you intend to stay up there? You have two children who need their mother.”
“Until he’s well enough to come home, and I don’t know how long that will be. Do you mind keeping the kids?”
“My keeping the kids isn’t a problem. They need their mother, and you still have a job. Can’t they transfer him down here where there can be some semblance of a normal life?”
“I don’t know, Momma. We have to take it one day at a time,” Ann answered, annoyed at Alice’s question. “I just can’t leave him up there. The doctor said it would be helpful if I talked and read to him. Sometimes that helps to bring people out of a coma. Sylvia can stay here and help you with the kids.”
“Wait a minute,” Sylvia said, “He belongs to me too, and I intend to stay with him as long as it takes.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you two shouldn’t be at his bedside. I just thought you might ask the doctor if he could be moved down here to make it easier on everyone.”
“If you could see him, you wouldn’t ask a question like that. He’s in bandages and casts from his head to his feet and hooked up to a room full of machines. He isn’t even breathing on his own. I doubt if the doctor would even consider moving him anytime soon.”
“I’m sorry, I was just thinking how much more convenient it would be if he were in Winston instead of way up in Boone, that’s all.”
A phone call broke the heated conversation. Ann thought it was probably Ronnie wanting to know when he would get his Jeep back. She wanted to thank him for the Jeep and for taking Marie home, but she couldn’t move.
“I’ll get it.” Alice grimaced as she pushed herself up from the chair and walked stiffly toward the phone.
“Hello, this is the Blackmon’s residence...Yes, she’s here, just a moment.” Alice took a deep breath. “Ann, it’s for you. It’s the hospital.”
Ann’s face turned ashen white. Sylvia uncoiled the cord so Ann wouldn’t have to get up to answer.
She lifted the phone up to her ear. “This is Ann Blackmon.” Her voice echoed through the room.
“This is Nurse Melany Bowers from the hospital. It might be best if you can come back as soon as possible. Your husband’s heart is out of rhythm, and he is not responding to efforts to stabilize it.”
“I understand. I will leave right away. Thank you.” She leaned forward and cradled her face with her hands.
“What is it, Ann, what did the nurse say?”
Ignoring Alice’s question, she asked her to call Ronnie to bring her car back and pick up his Jeep and to be sure to thank him.
“I have to pack,” she said through quivering lips and red, irritated eyes welling up tears. “I need to get back up to the hospital right away. The nurse said Jerry’s heart rate was out of rhythm and they were having difficulty in regulating it.”
“But, you can’t drive with that ankle!”
“Momma, just get me an ankle wrap. I took a first aid course at work and know how to wrap it so I can walk.”
Chapter 40
“Many of you were sent to other locations to finish out your retirement, a reward for your many years of loyal service.”
The bitter end
The black, cold ribbon of asphalt was walled on each side with six feet high snow banks dirty from traffic spraying slush. Ann’s ankle throbbed from keeping constant pressure on the accelerator to keep her Ford Falcon from losing momentum climbing up the mountain. Ann leaned forward urging the small engine on.
She thought she might change her mind and take Jerry up on his offer to buy her a new car when he gets well. But, her car was special. It was her first car, and she bought it with her own money. It would be hard to let it go. For now, though, she just wished it would climb faster than fifty miles an hour with the gas pedal pressed as hard against the floor as her ankle could stand.
Ann focused straight ahead, concentrating on the monotonous onrushing center line. Neither she nor Sylvia were in a conversational frame of mind. A fitful night without much sleep and the turnaround trip back to Boone had taken its toll on the two women. Their emotions were raw, liable to flare out of control with the slightest provocation.
As cars snaked their way up the mountain, her subconscious flashed back to Patrolman Knox leading them to the hospital only hours earlier. It seemed to have happened days ago. She wished out loud to Sylvia that Officer Knox was there to escort them again so they could be with
Jerry sooner.
The sudden upward motion of the elevator pressed down on Ann’s already nervous stomach, making her feel nauseated. She breathed in, slow and deep, and stared at the blinking floor numbers to combat motion sickness. Her body tensed when the bell for the fifth floor sounded.
Frozen with fear, she was herded through the open doors by anxious visitors behind her.
Jerry had been moved to the Critical Care Unit where he was monitored by a staff specialized in head trauma. Unfamiliar with this floor, the mother and daughter-in-law followed signs, often confusing, until they found the nurse’s station.
“Good afternoon, I’m Ann Blackmon. Can you tell me where Jerry Blackmon’s room is?”
“Mr. Blackmon is in room 513.” Looking at Sylvia, the nurse asked, “Are you family as well?”
“I’m his mother.”
“Family members are only allowed fifteen-minute visits at a time. Visiting hours are from one until four and from seven until nine.”
“But we just got here!”
“Those are the rules.”
Sylvia put her arm around Ann. She turned her away from the nurse and walked her toward room 513.
“Try to calm down, honey. It’s three forty-five and we don’t want to waste a minute. After we finish this visit we can go find a motel, have a relaxed dinner, and come back tonight. How does that sound?”
“I just don’t think I can take much more before seeing Jerry. I promise I’ll behave.” Ann managed a weak smile at her mother-in-law and gave her a hug. Jerry’s accident had brought them closer together and she enjoyed having her support, especially now.
The hall speakers blared without warning. “Code Blue, Code Blue!”
Ann and Sylvia cringed, clutching each other, not knowing what to do. The piercing speakers careened off slick walls like hail on a tin roof. They moved from the center of the hall to make room for a team running toward them pushing a crash cart and shouting, “Clear the way!”
“Oh my God, Sylvia, they’re going into Jerry’s room,” Ann shrieked when the cart and crew turned into Room 513.
She ran and tried to follow the crash team into Jerry’s room until a nurse stepped in front of her and blocked the doorway. “I’m sorry ma’am, you can’t come in here!”
“Damn it, I’m his wife, you have to let me in there!” Ann tried to push by the nurse.
An orderly responding to the Code Blue saw the confrontation and pulled Ann away from the door. “Please calm down. You would only be in the way. You can go in as soon as he’s stabilized, but until then you must stay out here. There is a waiting room just down the hall, you can wait in there.”
“I’m not leaving this spot,” Ann said. “Do you understand that? I’m staying right here until I can see my husband.”
“Fine, but I must ask you not to enter the room until the doctor speaks to you and says it’s okay. Will you do that for me?”
Ann reluctantly stepped across the hall. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Her fury showed in a scowl directed at anyone coming or going into Jerry’s room.
Sylvia had lost her calm demeanor by this time and was unable to be the peacemaker.
The orderly glanced toward the two women as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“Momma was right, I’m going to get him moved to Forsyth Hospital just as soon as he is able to travel. We’re getting in to see Jerry even if it’s past visiting hours or they’re going to have to lock me up,” Ann said to anyone within earshot. She’d never been this upset before and was in no mood to be bossed around.
Ann looked at her watch every two minute. What was taking them so long? She paced up and down the hall, ignoring Sylvia, who grieved quietly across the hall from Jerry’s room. Another quick glance at her watch—they’d been working on Jerry for almost thirty minutes. She stopped pacing and focused on the door to room 513. Her head snapped back at the click of the door knob. Someone was coming out.
Doctor Thomas appeared, removing his mask.
“How is my husband?” Ann asked, a faint gasp escaping her mouth as she nearly ran into the doctor.
“Why don’t we step into this office where it’s more private? I’ll give you a full report.”
Doctor Thomas opened a door across the hall. He turned on the lights and motioned for them to have a seat on a couch sitting against one wall. After Sylvia and Ann sat, he took a seat in a folding chair in front of them.
“Your husband began experiencing an irregular heartbeat. We tried to shock it back to normal but were not successful. We inserted a defibrillator to try and restore his heart rhythm. I’m sorry, Mrs. Blackmon, but Jerry’s heart just gave out. He went into cardiac arrest. There wasn’t anything more we could do for him. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Doctor Thomas stood then placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “The chaplain is on his way.”
Ann collapsed into Sylvia’s arms. They cried together while Doctor Thomas quietly exited the office.
Chapter 41
“You adapted to the progress that came with peace and a growing economy. You held on to your values, traditions, and work ethic.”
Morning after
Rick rolled over and pressed himself against Candi’s warm body, gently blowing in her ear. She roused, rolled onto her back, and then pulled him on top of her.
Squinting from the bright, noonday sun streaming in her windows, she said in a raspy voice, “Man, you look like shit, but that was one hell of a New Year’s party.”
“You don’t look so great yourself. How about I whip up some bacon and eggs and a big pot of coffee?”
“How can you think of food? Oh, God, I think I’m going to throw up.” Candi pushed Ricked off her then rolled out of bed and wobbled a few steps toward the bathroom. Then, in a burst of speed, she ran and hugged the commode while she threw up several hours’ worth of beer, bourbon, chips, dips, and finger foods.
At the sound of her heaving, Rick jumped up and pulled on a pair of red and white N.C. State sweats. He wasn’t much of a drinker and managed to escape the party with little more than a dull headache. The short walk into the kitchen convinced him that maybe dry toast and coffee would be a better choice.
“Do you need any help in there?” he called to Candi. Hearing no reply, he checked and found Candi on her knees with her head resting on her crossed arms on the toilet seat. There wasn’t anything left in her stomach, just gut-wrenching dry heaves.
Rick went to their bedroom closet, grabbed her bathrobe, and then draped it over her shoulders before he went back into the kitchen. He stirred a raw egg into a glass of milk then delivered it to Candi, who was still retching. “Here, drink this. They say it’s great for a hangover.”
She grasped the glass with both shaking hands and downed the concoction. “Ugh, what the hell was that?”
“Just an antidote for a hangover.”
“It tasted terrible, and I’m freezing my ass off!”
“Stand up and I’ll help you get into your robe.”
“Just leave me alone. I’ll be okay in a little while.”
“I can take a hint.” She would never let him do anything for her; it had to be her doing it her way. Candi had loosened up a lot since they first met, but she still had an independent wall built around her Rick hadn’t been able to breach.
He shook it off and went back into the kitchen, dumped the grounds down the disposal, and put on a fresh pot of coffee. Rick knew his way around her kitchen pretty well now and could find almost anything he needed. Candi wasn’t much of a cook and didn’t organize the few items on her shelves like he had seen his mother do when they brought the groceries home.
They moved in together a short time after that explosive night in the Winston-Salem Marriott. Candi had chided Rick about his tiny, slo
venly apartment that should have been condemned by the health department. The only things he moved were his few clothes and an alarm clock.
He’d only had a bed that Wil had given him when he and Ginger got married, a recliner from Goodwill, a nightstand with a Miller Beer lamp on it of unknown origin, And a black and white TV with rabbit ears that sat on an old foot locker turned up on end that doubled as a bookcase.
His kitchenware consisted of a couple of pots and pans, an odd assortment of silverware donated by a restaurant owner after Rick gave his Italian eatery a good write-up in the paper. He’d been eating off paper plates on a card table that had two mismatched folding chairs. The Salvation Army took the bed, chair, and TV, but they’d tossed the rest in a dumpster behind his old apartment.
“That coffee smells good,” Candi said, holding a cold washcloth against her forehead when she entered the kitchen. She flopped into a chair at the kitchen table with a groan and began to towel her hair dry while waiting on the coffee to finish brewing. “I took a quick shower to wake me up. I’ll feel like a human being again when I get some black coffee in me. That nasty cocktail you gave me seems to be helping. How do you feel?”
“One of us had to drive home, so my Seagrams Seven and 7UP was mostly 7UP. Besides, I wanted to be able to remember the fun we were going to have when we got home. You were amazing, even better than the Marriott in Winston.”
“You’ll have to tell me about it. I don’t even remember leaving the party. I haven’t had that much to drink since I quit therapy. I seldom drink much at office parties, but that newsroom bunch can really throw 'em down. It’s the first time in a long while I felt secure enough to let go because I knew you would take care of me. But, next time, cut me off earlier. I want to remember being amazing when we get home.”