At the first light I reach that’s red, I peek at her reply. It’s not from Natalie, it’s from Ethan. Ethan? I hear a horn blaring, and I look up to see the light is green, and I’m holding up traffic. I toss my phone back into my purse and focus on the road.
I park on the street in front of Natalie and Morgan’s house. I pull my phone out and stare at it for a few minutes debating whether or not I should open my waiting text. I’m not sure what he could possibly have to say to me after all this time. I’m not sure what I want him to say to me. I’m not sure I want to even read what he has to say.
I decide against reading the text, hoping Natalie will do it for me. Maybe she will accidentally push the delete button, and I will never have to know what he had to say. That would drive me crazy, probably. Maybe she could just call him and tell him that I don’t want him to contact me anymore. But I want to talk to him. Don’t I? Isn’t this the most important part of closure? Apologizing.
“Natalie?” I holler for her as I walk through the front door. I know she’s expecting me, but she’s not answering me. I round the corner into the living room and stop dead in my tracks. I can see the package sitting in front of the sofa. She left it for me to open. “Natalie? Where are you?”
Still no answer. I listen for a minute to see if I can hear the shower, but I don’t. I don’t hear anything. I walk through the kitchen and pop open the door to the garage. Her car is inside, so she has to be here somewhere. She can’t just disappear. I walk back into the living room and out the French doors to the backyard. No Natalie.
Finally, I pull my phone out to call her. I see my waiting text from Ethan. I now see that I have another text from Brad. My heart feels heavy. I’m right back to where I was seven months ago. I can see Ethan’s face when I told him I was in love with Brad. I can’t do this right now.
I can hear Natalie’s phone ringing somewhere in the house, so I follow the sound. I walk back through the kitchen and head towards the garage. It’s getting louder and louder, and then it stops. I hang up and call her again.
I’m right outside the laundry room when I hear it start to ring again, and it sounds like it’s coming from inside. I slowly open the door and drop to my knees.
Her body looks lifeless. I can see a small amount of blood coming from under her head. I reach for her wrist, and her pulse is weak.
I instinctively call 911, but I can’t really tell them what’s wrong. I wasn’t here when it happened, and I don’t know enough to tell them what’s wrong with her. I can only tell them that she has a faint pulse and that I’m pretty sure she’s breathing. I hang up the phone when I hear the ambulance getting close. I meet them at the front door and direct them to the laundry room.
Before I know what to do they are loading her up and taking her to the hospital. I know that I need to do something, call someone, everyone, but I can’t. My feet are cemented to the ground, staring at where I just found Natalie. I’m unable to move, to breathe, to comprehend what just happened. The sound of the sirens from the ambulance as it pulls away from Natalie’s house kick-starts my system again.
I grab my phone and dial Morgan’s number right away. I get his voicemail, and as soon as I hear the beep I start rambling. I don’t want to tell him in a voicemail. I don’t want to leave that kind of information on his machine. I want to talk to him, but I have no choice. I leave the message and tell him to meet me at the hospital.
I call Natalie’s parents’ house next. Her mom answers the phone and, through the tears that have now started to fall, I tell her what’s going on. I don’t know much, but I tell her what I do know and tell her what hospital.
I’m still standing and staring at the floor when I call Brad. I know that I need to go, that I need to get to the hospital, but I still can’t move. I’m staring at the small blood pool on the floor, the laundry basket full of clothes that is tipped over on its side with clothes spilling out, unfolded.
“Becca! Are you there?”
Brad’s voice brings me out of my nightmare and back into reality. It’s still a nightmare, but I need to start dealing with it. I need to take action and move. That’s what I do. I quickly tell Brad what happened and what hospital. I hang up before he can respond. I’m in my car and driving down the road when I remember the reason that I went to Natalie’s to begin with.
Ethan.
I don’t have time to go back. I don’t have time to think about Ethan. I don’t have time to think about the photo. I need to get to the hospital. I need to get to Natalie. I need to focus on my driving. The tears are flowing freely, the floodgates opened. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, but it only makes it worse. I know that if I’m not careful, that I will end up in a hospital bed next to her, so I pull over.
After rummaging through the glove compartment, I find the tissues that I was looking for. I quickly clean my face up and wipe away the last remnants of my mascara. The hospital is only minutes away. I pull myself together and pull back on the road. I just need to make it there before I start to lose it again. I need to be strong, for Natalie.
The waiting room is full of people, none of which I recognize. I must be the first to arrive, and the thought of that scares me. I approach the nurse’s station with caution and tell them my situation. The only thing they can tell me is that Natalie is back being seen by the doctors. They can’t tell me what’s wrong with her, if she’s conscious, if she’s even alive. I’m not family.
Brad is the first through the ER doors. He spots me and heads in my direction. There are no seats left, so he crouches in front of me and takes my hands. I’m not crying, but I feel like I might any second. His presence soothes me in a way that most things can’t. I know that he’s only touching my hands, but I can feel his touch everywhere, especially in my heart.
Before I can even speak, Morgan rushes through the doors and up to the desk. I can see that he’s panicked. I would never want to get the voicemail that he got. After talking, or rather yelling, at the nurse I had already spoken to, he spots us and heads toward us.
“They won’t tell me anything. What the hell happened, Becca?”
“I don’t really know. She sent me a text and I told her I would come over, and when I got there, I couldn’t find her anywhere. I called her cell and heard it ringing, so I followed the sound. I found her on the floor, unconscious. It looked like she may have hit her head, there was a little blood. I checked for a pulse and called 911.”
I held back all emotion while I told him what happened. It was the only way I would have been able to get it out. If I allowed myself to cry, I wouldn’t be able to stop again. It must have sounded like I was reading my grocery list.
We waited for another fifteen minutes before Natalie’s parents finally arrived. I waved to them, but neither of them saw me. They talked to the nurse and were shown through a set of doors. The only thing I could do was stare. I knew they would be shown back. I knew they would be given information. I knew that we would be left in the dark to wonder and worry. I knew all of this, yet I still wanted to run after them before the door clicked closed behind them.
We waited for what felt like hours to hear something, anything, from Natalie’s parents or the doctors. There was radio silence. No one was saying anything. No one would tell us anything. Then, Morgan got a text. It didn’t say much, but it gave us hope.
Natalie is awake and talking. Go home and get some rest. She has to stay overnight. Will call later.
We went our separate ways, reluctantly leaving through the front doors together. I knew that we would all be back first thing in the morning to check up on her. I knew that none of us were going to sleep well. I knew that something was wrong with her, and that there was more information that they were not sharing with us right now. I knew all of this, yet I went home because I was told to. I knew all of this, and I knew that there was nothing I could do about any of it except wait to hear what her parents and the doctors had to say. I felt completely helpless.
It was dark wh
en I finally pulled up in front of my house. The lights were on, and I could see my mom in the kitchen, moving around quickly. She was probably making dinner, unaware of everything else that was happening right now.
A set of headlight pulled up behind me, temporarily blinding me. I shut my car off and got out to find Brad getting out of his car. I didn’t say anything, and I didn’t need to. He pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around me. I sank deep into his body and let him hold me for a few minutes.
I was on the verge of crying again. My body was tired, my mind was tired, and I needed to lay down. I hadn’t mentioned the package to Brad or Morgan. It was not important at the time, and now I had no idea how to bring it up in conversation with Brad. We don’t fight, we don’t argue. This wouldn’t cause us to start, but it would cause tension. I didn’t need that right now.
I knew that Morgan would find it when he got back to their house, but I didn’t really care. It would be the last thing on his mind. He might say something in the morning at the hospital, and I was hoping that if he did, Brad wouldn’t be around. I felt like I was keeping something from him, but I also felt like it was the right thing to do. The only thing that has ever come between us before is my relationship with Ethan. I didn’t want to reopen that wound.
We made our way inside and talk to my mom for a while. It was close to midnight by the time we filled her in on everything, and she excused herself for bed. With her being a nurse, I thought that she would offer some kind of explanation to the situation. Give us a few “maybe this is what’s going on” scenarios. She said nothing. I figured that meant it was worse than we feared.
Brad and I crawled into bed shortly after my mom. It wasn’t unusual for him to stay the night at this point. He was here most days and a few nights a week. He keeps a toothbrush here and deodorant. We still haven’t taken our relationship to the next level but at this point, I’m not sure I’m ready to. After the reaction I had to my photograph arriving today, I know that I’m still not really over my feelings for Ethan. Maybe I never really will be?
Thinking about Ethan while I’m wrapped up in Brad’s arms feels like I’m cheating on him. He has no idea what I’m thinking about, but I do. I know that I have a clear image of Ethan’s painful expression while looking at my portrait. I know that I’m thinking about that same portrait sitting in Natalie and Morgan’s living room, waiting for me to pick it up.
That’s when it hits me that I never read his text from earlier today. I’m not sure if I want to read it, but my curiosity is peaked. Why now? Why is he sending me a message now? What about the last six months?
I slip out of Brad’s arms without waking him and rummage through my purse in the dark. I slowly open my door and step into the hall. My hands are shaking. I can feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest. My pulse is racing, and I wonder if it’s out of fear or anticipation.
I try to turn my phone on and realize that the battery is dead. I head downstairs to plug it in and wait. I give it only five minutes or so before I power it up. Once I am able to open my messages, I do and immediately start to cry.
Morgan: Natalie has a brain tumor. You need to come back to the hospital ASAP. They are doing surgery at noon tomorrow.
Ethan’s message is long forgotten after reading the one from Morgan. After I’m able to compose myself, I leave my phone on the counter to charge and go wake up Brad. I need to get to the hospital, and there is no way I will be able to drive by myself.
We arrive at the hospital and even though visiting hours are over, they let us in to see Natalie. Her parents are by her bed, along with Morgan. She’s sitting up, smiling, as if nothing is wrong. Her smile brings tears to my eyes, and I wonder if I’m ever going to be able to stop crying.
She’s extremely pale. She has a large bandage wrapped around her head. She has machines hooked up to her everywhere. She’s wearing one of those oxygen tubes that they stick up your nose and around your ears. She looks sick, yet she’s smiling.
I can hear the beeping of a monitor. I can hear the whoosh of the breathing machine. I can hear the hum of the other machines. What I don’t hear is Natalie calling my name while I take in my surroundings.
“Becca!”
“Sorry.” I move closer to her and take a seat in an open chair by her bed. “So, what are the doctors saying?”
“Well, it’s not good news. I have a tumor growing in my cerebellum. Supposedly, that can cause me to lose control of some muscle functions. I remember my legs giving out and then hitting my head, so I must have fallen.”
She said it so plainly. She said it like it was no big deal. It was definitely a big deal. They are going to cut her head open in the morning. She is having surgery on part of her brain! “Okay. So, after they remove the tumor, what happens?”
“She’ll need to stay here for a while.” Natalie’s dad was trying to sound strong, but I could hear the sadness in his voice. “They will need to monitor her breathing to make sure that they didn’t damage anything when they removed the tumor. There’s a chance that they may not be able to get all of it in one surgery, so they may have to go back in a second time in a few days.”
I can see Natalie’s mom crying out of the corner of my eye. She’s standing tall and letting her tears fall. She’s trying to be strong for Natalie, for her family. I, on the other hand, am crying freely and sniffling like a baby.
“I will be fine, Becca. The doctors say that I was lucky to have found it as soon as I did. Normally, a tumor like this can go undetected for a while.”
“How long do they think you’ve had it? Didn’t you have any symptoms?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know they were symptoms of a brain tumor. I was nauseated a lot and have gotten a few headaches lately, but I thought that maybe I was just fighting a virus. For a minute we thought we were pregnant since I was always feeling like I was going to throw up in the morning.”
Brad quickly changed the subject. I never thought that I would be so excited to talk about having babies and getting married. We stayed only for a few more minutes before I gave Natalie a long, tight squeeze, and wished her luck. She knew that I would be in the waiting room with Morgan and her parent’s tomorrow afternoon. She knew that I would be waiting for her, praying for her.
Chapter 13
Natalie’s surgery took almost six hours. When we finally heard that she made it though and that they were almost positive that they got everything was when I breathed a sigh of relief. I could see the relief on Natalie’s parents face. I could see the relief on Morgan’s face. I could feel the tension in the room melt away. Natalie was going to be okay.
I left the hospital before she woke up. I was exhausted and needed some rest, so when they said that she probably wouldn’t wake up until the next morning, I headed home to bed. Brad was waiting for me when I got there. He had spoken to my professors for me and picked up my homework. There was no way that I was going to be able to go to class today or even tomorrow.
I passed out on my bed before I even took my shoes off. The weight on my shoulders felt like it had been lifted. I was light as a feather and floated freely into the land of dreams. I felt Brad remove my shoes and cover me up. I was even aware that he didn’t crawl in next to me, but I didn’t have the energy to open my eyes or speak.
“I love you so much, Becca.” I heard his words and felt him kiss my forehead before I passed back out.
Tight arms wrapped around me from behind. I could feel his nipple ring pressing into my shoulder. His heart was beating rapidly against my back. I knew who was standing behind me, and I was scared to turn around.
I knew his smile would make my insides melt like butter, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that. I knew that one look at him and I would never want to leave his arms again. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who was holding me, but I did anyway.
Instinctively, I started to twist my ring. I could see Ethan standing inside his gallery, staring at my photograph, the one he took of me
. His eyes are vacant but the emotion on his face is very real. The pain is real.
I feel cold, and I have to look down to realize that I’m no longer wrapped in his arms. When I look back up, Ethan is staring at me through the window. It’s almost as if he’s staring into my soul, but he’s not really seeing me. His lips move, and I know that he’s saying something, but I can’t hear him. Then the woman with the red hair appears from behind him and puts her hand on his shoulder like she’s trying to console him.
Who is this woman? I’ve seen her before—when I was in England. I am in England. I’ve been here before. I’ve lived this nightmare before. Why does this feel so real?
I awake with a start. Brad’s next to me with his arm lying across my waist. I slip out of bed without disturbing him and head for the bathroom. The sun’s not up yet, so I know it’s still early. I jump in the shower and start to get myself ready for the day. The dream is still fresh in my mind and so is the fact that I have avoided Ethan’s text.
I start a pot of coffee, and once I have a steaming cup, I head to the back porch to enjoy the sunrise. It’s the most beautiful sight to watch the sun coming up over the Santa Catalina Mountain. The only thing prettier is watching it set over them with someone you love.
My phone is sitting on the table in front of me. I know that I need to read his message. I know that I will drive myself crazy until I know what he wants. It’s been six months since I’ve had any contact with him. As far as I know, he doesn’t even know that I went to England. My mom and Natalie promised not to tell him, and the only other people who knew were Morgan and Brad. I can’t imagine either of them told him.
I close my eyes and snag my phone off the table. I take a few deep breaths before opening his text. No matter what it says, I know that I will have a hard time reading it. I know that as I read it, I will hear his voice speaking to me. I know that this changes things, my feelings for him. I can feel my heart beginning to swell with love for him just for sending me a text.
Unglued (Holding On) Page 11