So Wrong

by Camilla Stevens

  “Bonita!”

  This time, the familiar voice was her father. She turned her head toward the sound and he met her gaze, unfocused as it was.

  “I can’t see you, Daddy.”

  “Here, sweetheart. We brought your back-up glasses for you.”

  She could hear the catch in his voice, as he handed her the glasses.

  Don’t you start crying too, Daddy.

  She fumbled with them a bit before settling them on her nose.

  There, that was better. Bonita could see him, and her mother behind him, her hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly as they stared down at her.

  She was in a bed. An unfamiliar bed. She looked around. She was in a hospital.

  Why?

  Then, there was that pain reminding her.

  “Oh, Bonita,” her mother sobbed, and pressed her face into her father’s shoulder. He kept his eyes on Bonita as he reached a hand around to pat her shoulder.

  “I missed you in the ICU, you were out like a lightbulb by the time I got back,” he said with a sad smile.

  ICU? She had no memory of it.

  “What happened?” Bonita asked, furrowing her brow with concentration, trying to remember.

  That brought a fresh sob from her mother. Her father just bit his lip, but she could see the flash of anger in his eyes.

  Had she done something stupid and clumsy? Some boneheaded mishap to put herself in the hospital. Her hand instinctively went to her left side which was sore. She felt the bandages underneath the flimsy hospital gown she had on. A sharp pain hit her when she reached her lower abdomen.

  “Don’t worry about what happened for now, sweetheart. You just focus on resting okay?”

  “Where’s River?” The last thing she remembered they were at the museum joking about The Hope Diamond.

  Now, there was a new look in her father’s eyes. She couldn’t read it, but it was gone in an instant.

  “Don’t worry about him, either. Just rest.”

  “Is he here? I want to see him.” She wasn’t sure about hospital rules. He wasn’t family, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let that stop her from seeing him.

  “He’ll be here soon. He—he has some things to sort out.”

  Sort out? Bonita wasn’t a prima donna, but she felt an immediate pang of resentment and hurt that he would be out there “sorting things out” while she was in the hospital.

  “What happened, daddy?”

  He looked down at her with sympathy and she could read the conflict going on in his eyes.

  “Just tell me.”

  Her mother pulled her head away from his shoulder, sniffed a bit and then spoke. “Tell her, honey. She has a right to know.”

  Her father sighed then took her hand. “It was Darryl. He…I don’t know all the details, but he had a gun. Apparently, there was a struggle and you were shot.”

  Of all the scenarios going on in her mind, that was not one of them. Her other hand slid down to where the pain was most acute and she winced as it hit the right spot.

  Shot. Darryl.

  She closed her eyes hard and strained to recall the events that led up to her being here. There were brief flashes: pizza, River’s face, staring at black dress shoes on the pavement. Still, nothing came to her. She gave up with a frustrated exhale.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “They said it might take time to come back to you, but don’t you worry about that. Darryl is,” she heard the change in tone of his voice, “he can’t get to you now, sweetheart. We’re going to go get the doctor.”

  Dr. Abernathy was young, too young. And jovial, too jovial.

  He had flaming red hair and bright blue eyes. She wanted to like him, and under any other circumstance she would have. He reminded her of Marianne. Were all redheads this enjoyable?

  “Amazingly enough, the bullet stayed put once inside. We don’t want that sucker bouncing around inside of you causing more damage.

  “And thankfully it missed all major arteries and bone, which is, frankly miraculous considering the location. It was a nine millimeter. Not the worst in the world, but at such a close range it could have shattered your pelvis. Then you’d have a permanent limp. So yes, that’s the good news.”

  Do you say that to all the gun-shot victims, doc? She wanted to roll her eyes.

  His face became serious. “I’ve told all of this to your parents already, as next of kin.” He looked at her briefly for some sort of confirmation and she nodded her head distractedly.

  Just go on!

  “Unfortunately, it hit your left ovary pretty hard, and we had to remove it.”

  Bonita’s reaction was so swift and all-consuming, she didn’t even register the loud sob that escaped her lips as the final word left Dr. Abernathy’s. Her hands came up in some futile attempt to press the tears that sprung from her eyes back into their ducts.

  The flashes of everything that was lost to her spun through her head like a kaleidoscope. The children she imagined with River, some with green eyes like his, some with the brown eyes that she had inherited from her father. The first words, birthday parties, ballet lessons, soccer games, recitals, first crushes, first heartbreaks, graduations, grandchildren.

  Maybe they could adopt?

  Would River even want her if she couldn’t have children?

  Everyone else in the room reacted almost a split-second later. Her mother rushed over to place a comforting arm around her. “Oh no honey, don’t cry.”

  “Bonita, no…” her father began before the doctor interrupted him.

  “Whoa, Miss Jackson, I wasn’t quite finished. You still have one perfectly functioning ovary. It shouldn’t affect your ability to get pregnant at all.”

  She brought her hands away and frowned at him. Why the hell hadn’t he led with that?

  In retrospect, it revealed so much. River Wright had been forefront in her mind when she thought of her future. They’d only been together a few months, but she knew.

  She wanted forever with him.

  “You are one lucky girl. One inch to the left or right and things could have been much worse. But as far as having children, your other ovary will just pick up the slack. Perhaps that’s why God blessed women with two of them,” he gave a small chuckle.

  He continued on, completely oblivious to the undercurrent of mild resentment in the room. Still, Bonita paid attention, waiting for any more surprises.

  “Now, since you’ve had major surgery, you’ll be in here for observation for at least a week. Gotta make sure everything else inside of you is in working order.”

  He went on, telling her nothing of any major importance. By the end, she was impatient for him to go, as she still needed answers. Answers to questions that he couldn’t help her with.

  When he finally left, she looked at her parents with cold clarity.

  “Tell me where River is.”

  Her worst fear was that he had been shot as well. What her parents told her was almost as bad.

  In jail?

  Bonita still didn’t recall the events that led up to the shooting, or what happened afterward, but she couldn’t believe that River could have done anything that would land him in jail.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” her father said. “There is no way that Darryl”—he spat the name with such venom it actually made her flinch—“has any kind of case against River. He was defending you. All anyone has to do is take one look at you and…” He began to tear up.

  “It’s fine, Daddy,” Bonita said wearily. She was so tired, always tired. “River is Richard Wright’s son. That alone will help things.”

  Her father just nodded, for once appreciating who River’s father was.

  “The point is, you shouldn’t be worrying about River, mija. You just focus on getting better.” Now, her mother was beginning to tear up.

  Bonita was far too fatigued to assure her parents that they needn’t cry. But loving parents were loving parents, and no parent wanted to see their child
in the hospital after a near-death experience.

  Instead she sent them off. “I think I’ll get some sleep now. I’m pretty worn out.”

  There was a lot of fuss and fluff, but eventually they left her alone. Alone with her thoughts.

  The one that stuck out most was: This is my fault.

  She should have told River about the roses and odd messages Darryl had sent. She should have told her parents. Perhaps they could have gotten in touch with Darryl’s father.

  Bonita had always felt a certain unease around Darryl, but had never thought he would go this far. Maybe he hadn’t even meant to shoot Bonita. What if the bullet had been meant for River? What if he meant to shoot both of them?

  The guilt was far more painful than even the bullet wound. It certainly cut deeper. Now she was in the hospital and River was in jail.

  Apparently, Darryl was in the hospital as well. Although there was a small part of her that rejoiced in the satisfaction of that, she also wondered whether that too could have been avoided if she had spoken up . Maybe he would have been forced to seek out psychiatric help. Then she and River would be back at school, picking up where they’d left off. Bonita had been told that, with the recovery and physical therapy, it would be a strain to make up the missed days of school so it would be best to sit out this semester and just pick up again in the fall.

  She fell back on her pillow, fatigue taking over once again.

  What a damn mess you’ve created, Bonita.

  There was a knock on the door and she waited. The nurses didn’t wait for an answer, just bustled right in to take her vitals and give her meds. When the door didn’t open, she figured it was her parents coming back for some reason.

  “Come in,” she said tiredly, trying to brighten her mood for their sake.

  She turned her head with a wan smile. A smile that became genuine when she saw who it was.

  40

  River saw Bonita lying there on the bed looking weak and helpless. He had to pause to get a handle on his emotions which threatened to send him reeling. The surge of rage at the man who had put her here. The guilt that cut a fresh wound in his heart. The worry that had been eating him up wondering if she was okay.

  She looked broken and defeated, but he saw something there in those eyes as they gleamed when they looked at him.

  “River,” she said with a soft smile. “You’re here.”

  “Of course,” he said, eventually finding his voice.

  Her eyes wandered down to the flowers in his hands. “Tulips.”

  As if suddenly realizing they were in his hands, he gave her a half-smile. “Marianne called me. She suggested them, yellow for some reason. Said they would be your favorite. I guess that’s something I now know.”

  Bonita chuckled a little, then winced in pain. River’s heart seized and he ran the last few steps toward her side.

  “Are you okay? Do you need the nurse?”

  She shook her head, but her eyes were still closed in pain. One hand waved him off. “Just don’t make me laugh, okay?”

  River wasn’t quite sure what was funny about what he’d said or the situation in general. Heaven knew he was in no laughing mood. In fact, it was all he could do not to revert back to his old brooding and angry ways. The only thing keeping him steady was that face below him.

  He placed the vase of yellow tulips on the bed next to her. He wanted to tell her everything, but wasn’t sure if she was well enough to absorb it all.

  “Listen, Bonita, there are…things I have to tell you. This is all my fault,” her eyes flashed up at him. “I can wait until you are better, but—”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “Not you. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I should have told you—”

  “Let’s just wait until you’re well enough—”

  River started with alarm when she shifted on her bed, trying to lift herself up, wincing in the evident pain.

  “Bonita, no. Wait.”

  “No,” she said with a fierce look on her face. “I have to tell you.”

  River sighed. “Okay, but you don’t have to get up. I’m right here. I’ll listen.”

  He waited while she settled back down and recovered, crossing his arms and pressing his lips together, angry with himself. He should have just left the flowers, and let her get some rest. Now she was completely worked up.

  “River, I knew Darryl was…off somehow. I never told you while we were in school, but he kept sending me roses with these short, ambiguous messages. As if he wouldn’t accept that it was over. I just threw them away and tried to forget about them, thinking I’d deal with him once I came back to D.C. This whole thing, it’s my fault. I should have told you, told someone—”

  “No, Bonita,” he said softly. “It’s my fault.

  “No—”

  “Just listen, okay?” he said.

  She fell back on her pillow and looked up at him curiously.

  River closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “He confronted me that morning when I went for my run. The way he talked about you, like you were some property or prize that he planned on winning. I should have known—”

  “No,” she said reaching out a hand. “I’ve known him most of my life. I was the blind one.”

  “Still, I should have mentioned something. It’s just that when I got back to your house, you all looked so happy there, preparing breakfast, I didn’t want to ruin it.” He shook his head and looked off to the side.

  She squeezed the hand that she had taken hold of. “So it’s both our faults.”

  That brought his gaze back to her and she offered a wry smile. “I think that’s the only way either of us is going to shut up about this.”

  River chuckled for the first time. “Actually, let’s just blame the actual culprit and forgive ourselves.”

  “I like that idea better. But River?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s not keep anything from each other any more, okay? Even if you think it might upset me, tell me everything. I promise to do the same.”

  “I promise, Bonita. I promise.”

  “So on that note, and you have to be absolutely honest with me, here.” She gave him a meaningful look.

  He looked her straight in the eye. “Absolutely.”

  “I mean it. No lies.”

  “I promise, Bonita.”

  “Okay then, honestly, what do you really think of chitlins?”

  River laughed. Then told her the God’s honest truth.

  “You need to go back to school.”

  It was her last day in the hospital. Classes started next week, but River had booked a hotel room nearby to visit her every day, not wanting to put her parents out. He insisted on being by her side through most of the recovery.

  Bonita was in fact taking the semester off. Everyone, including the doctors, her parents, and most adamantly River insisted that she do so. She had to admit that even the thought of taking the train ride back up to New York filled her with fatigue.

  “It’s my last semester, I’m supposed to flake out. I’ll survive one week of missed classes. I already know what I’m going to do after graduation. The future, as Tom Petty put it, is wide open.”

  He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of it. “Besides, how could I concentrate knowing you’re still stuck in the hospital? I almost lost you Bonita, now I just want to spend every minute I can with you.”

  Her wound had one of its random flashes of sharp pain and she winced slightly. It brought back the nagging question that had haunted her when she first thought she had lost the ability to have children. She figured now was as good a time as any to broach the topic.

  “Do you want children?”

  He blinked in surprise and she momentarily feared the worst—was he not thinking that seriously about her? Did he not want kids?—before realizing that the expression was probably due to the abrupt change of topic.

  “Of course! Loads. My brothers and I were a bit spaced out betw
een each other, but now I realize how important they are in my life, especially considering the past few days,” he chuckled, squeezing her hand. “On the other hand, Chauncey is enough to make one seriously consider a vasectomy.”

  Bonita wanted to cry. Cry because of what was almost lost to her. Cry because of what was gained, this new closeness between then. Mostly just cry because nothing could be more perfect than having River here, reassuring her, making her laugh, holding her hand.

  “Come here,” she said. Although it was more painful to sit up than lie down, she wanted to work on not being a complete invalid and met the protests of her body halfway by lying up in her bed. At least while River was here.

  River grinned and leaned in.

  “Closer,” she said smiling.

  He inched closer, taunting her.

  She grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for the kiss she was seeking.

  It felt so good having the softness of his full lips against hers once again. Her mind briefly bounced around the question of when she would be able to partake in other things, but immediately trashed it. It was enough that he was here by her side.

  There was a knock on the door and River groaned against her lips. Apparently, he missed this as much as she had. He smiled as he pulled away.

  “Want me to get it?” he asked softly enough so the person on the other side couldn’t hear.

  “Well, since I’m not officially cleared for anything beyond kissing,” she said smirking.

  He grinned then jogged over to open it.

  “Marianne” Bonita said with genuine enthusiasm when she saw her friend walk in. She missed the person who could always bring a smile to her face.

  “I certainly hope you haven’t been interfering in my friend’s recovery you naughty boy,” she said wagging a finger at River.

  River just rolled his eyes then lifted his brows to greet Brad who came in behind her, slightly more hesitant.

  “Brad,” Bonita noted with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Still, she brought the blanket up a bit further to hide her hospital gown, which was a bit too revealing in its simplicity.