Meagan's Marine (Halos & Horns)

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Meagan's Marine (Halos & Horns) Page 20

by Lori Leger


  “You’re stronger together.” He blinked twice. “At first I thought it was Red, but he’s still in the waiting room with everyone else. We were totally alone.”

  Meagan’s eyes were already on the two scrub clad figures approaching them. Tiffany McAllister reached Meagan first, as Tanner Collins brought up the rear, looking as though he wished he had better news to report.

  “I set his leg, Meagan. It was a bad break but since he’s still growing, that bone should stitch together properly with time. You can be sure I’ll keep an eye on it for you. The brace on his forearm from the merry go round incident took the brunt of the punishment to his arm. I put a cast on it, encompassing the elbow to stabilize it more thoroughly.” She stepped aside, as though to give Tanner the floor.

  “He’s got a concussion, and some brain swelling…”

  Meagan felt Mitchell’s hand tighten around hers, giving her the strength to quiet the screaming in her own head, enough to comprehend Tanner’s words.

  “It’s not nearly as serious as it could be considering what happened. I’ve induced a coma until the swelling goes down, giving the brain time to heal itself.” He shook his head, running one hand through his hair. “Honestly, the fact that the vehicle hit him just hard enough to throw him smack dab in the middle of the yard of the month…that was kind of incredible. I mean that lawn was some kind of thick. If he’d landed on the pavement we would be looking at a much more serious head injury.”

  “And the fact that both of you were there when it happened, jumping into action as quickly as you did,” Mitch added. “It all works for him.”

  Meagan nodded. “So how long will he be in this coma you’ve induced?”

  “That depends on Buck and how his brain reacts. It could be as little as two days, or as long as a week.” Tanner placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could give you a definitive answer, Meagan, but I can’t. I can tell you this. Buck is a strong, healthy little man, and he comes from a loving home. He’s got everything he needs to give him the will to fight his way back to you.”

  Mitch nodded. “He’s right, Megs.” He shook his brother-in-law’s hand then pulled him in for a man hug and pat on the back. “Thanks man.”

  Tiffany and Tanner continued on to the waiting room to talk to their own concerned spouses and friends, leaving Meagan staring up at Mitch again. He smiled down at her, linking the fingers of both hands through hers.

  “I guess we are stronger together,” he whispered, lowering his forehead to hers.

  CHAPTER 25

  The Sad Man (Part Two)

  “Hello?”

  “Don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not.”

  “That’s because you’re such a brave little man.”

  “Who awe you?”

  “Don’t you recognize me?”

  Buck stared hard at the man in front of him, watching as his clothes changed from regular pants and a shirt to something his mama called ‘dress blues’. The man reached up, took off his hat and held it in his hands.

  “Awe you my daddy?”

  The man knelt in front of him, and smiled as he nodded. “Yes, Buck. My name is Christopher Buckley Martin, and I am your daddy. Could I get a hug from you?”

  Buck walked slowly into the man’s arms and gave him a big hug.

  “Mmm…it feels so good to hold you, after all this time, son. Thank you.”

  Buck stepped back and smiled at the man. “You aw welcome.”

  The man who said he was his daddy laughed. “You know, I couldn’t say my R’s when I was little, either.”

  “You couldn’t?”

  “Nope. So don’t worry about that. You’ll get the hang of it one day.”

  “Okay.” Buck looked around. “Whewe awe we?”

  His dad looked around the small room they were in. “I’m not too sure, but I’m glad he gave us this time together. I guess he has his reason for doing it.”

  “Who does?”

  His dad used his thumb to point above them. “Him…the Big Guy…God.”

  “Oh, I don’t know him.”

  “Yes you do.”

  “Well, I used to pway to him evwy night. But I nevuh did see him.”

  “You don’t pray anymore?”

  “No.” Buck raised his hands and dropped them. “I dunno know why.”

  “Well, that’s okay, because he sees you. He watches over you all the time. That’s why I know you’re going to be fine.”

  “Okay.”

  “Listen, Buck. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am, that I can’t be a part of your life. I really wanted to be. That’s why I was so sad before.”

  Buck frowned as he stared even harder at his daddy. “Awe you the sad man?”

  His daddy nodded. “Yeah, I hope I didn’t scare you. I was lost for a long time. I had to wait until things fell into place.”

  “You didn’t. Mommy and Aunt Nik, but not me.”

  “That’s because you’re brave like your mom.”

  Buck cocked his head as he considered that. “She said you was bwave.”

  “Nah. You don’t have to be brave in order to die. But you have to be very brave to keep on living. Especially when you’re raising a child without a dad.”

  “But I have one now.”

  “You mean me?”

  Buck nodded. “Yes. Awe you gonna be a weal daddy now?”

  “Well, I’ll always be your father, Buck, but I can’t really be your daddy. A daddy should be there to throw a ball to you, teach you to bat and catch, and how to ride a two-wheeler. Things like that.”

  “And fly a kite?”

  His dad smiled and nodded. “Yes and fly a pterodactyl kite.”

  “That’s a dinosawr that looks like a bewd!”

  “I know, buddy. It was always my favorite, and you got that from me, too.”

  The room started to grow fuzzy, like smoke but Buck didn’t smell smoke. “What’s happening?”

  His daddy frowned, and Buck could suddenly see a little of the sad man in his face. “I think I’m about to leave. But before I go, I wanted to meet you. And…I want you to give your mom a message for me. Can you do that, Buck?”

  Buck nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to go.”

  “I have to, son.”

  Buck got an idea that made him happy. “I can go with you.”

  “No, not this time. Your mom still needs you with her. We will see each other again, but it won’t be for a long, long time.”

  “Okay then.”

  “I’m not worried about you, though. Because I know you’re going to have another daddy. A good daddy who can be there for you to teach you all the things I couldn’t.”

  “Is it gonna be Mitch?”

  His daddy smiled at him. “I can’t tell you that.” Then he winked at him. “Tell your mom…”

  Before Buck’s eyes, his dad faded completely from sight. “Daddy?” He turned in a circle, searching the room, now filled with a white smoke that didn’t smell like smoke. “Daddy?” Buck stood in the room, knowing he was alone, but then he heard it. It was like he whispered the words in his ear, but he’d heard them loud and clear. He knew it was the message for his mom, from his very own daddy.

  CHAPTER 26

  Houston Texans and #8

  Meagan lay on her side, facing her son in his hospital bed. Very softly, she hummed a tune to an older song, one that had been a favorite of hers and Christopher’s. She passed her fingers through her son’s hair repeatedly, combing it back and away from his eyes—waiting, wishing, willing them to open…to see her, and to know her.

  A possibility of brain trauma…some loss of memory…cognitive powers…no way of telling how severe at this point…possibility he wouldn’t wake up once he stopped the coma inducing meds.

  Tanner’s words of warning looped in her mind like a message running on one of those highway signs.

  “Don’t you dare take him from me.”

  She spoke in a quiet but firm voice, the
words echoing in the otherwise silence of the hospital room. She’d asked the nurse to mute the steady beep of the heart monitor.

  But to whom did she speak the words? Whom could she blame if her child didn’t wake up totally aware of his surroundings, or worse, didn’t wake at all? Mitch? Definitely not. That left only herself, since she no longer believed in God. If that were the case, her dare wouldn’t make any sense, would it?

  She thought how empty her life would be without Buck. It suddenly hit her like a kick in the gut that if he didn’t wake up, he’d be alone out there, wherever he’d be. He wouldn’t know a soul that he’d met in his previous life. No grandparents or great-grandparents, or cousins, or anyone there to greet him in…where? In heaven? But, if there was no God, then there would be no Heaven, and that…that…for the sake of her son…was an inconceivable image.

  “Okay.” She tried it on for size. “Okay, God. You win. I believe in you. I do. I guess I always have, even when I tried not to, but…I’m totally serious, here…” her breath hitched as she held back a sob. “You already have his father. Don’t you dare take Buck from me, too.”

  She lifted her son’s hand to her mouth, kissed it, held it, until her tears tracked a path from her face down to his small fingers. She held them close to dry the dampness from his hands, then held her breath as she felt him twitch.

  Meagan stared at her son’s face and waited. There. His eyelid moved.

  “Buck? Can you hear me?”

  Mitch pushed open the door and spoke, his voice vibrating with anxiousness. “Is he talking?”

  Meagan’s gaze never left her son. “No, but I think the drugs are wearing off. God, I hope he isn’t in any pain. Can you tell the nurses, please?”

  Mitch left for a minute, then poked his head back inside. “Can I stay, Meagan? Or do you want to be alone? Or you want me to call Niki in?”

  Meagan gasped as Buck’s head jerked toward Mitchell’s voice. “No! Yes! I mean stay! And talk to him, Mitch. I think he hears you! Buck, can you open your eyes, baby?”

  Mitch wet a paper towel and sat on the opposite side of Buck’s bed. “Hey buddy, how you doing?” Very gently, he wiped at Buck’s eyes with the towel, trying to wipe away any buildup. “Your mom sure misses you, Buck, and so did Nik…and me too.” His voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat to go on. “If you can hear our voices, try to wake up and talk to us, okay Buck?”

  Meagan bent closer. “Hey, my brave little man, can you open your eyes for mama?”

  They sat, taking turns talking and cajoling, letting him hear their voices, working together, until his lids finally fluttered opened.

  Mitch stood aside, so that Meagan’s face would be the first one he saw.

  “Hey little man,” she cooed. “Can you say something?”

  “Ptewodactyl.”

  Meagan beamed into her son’s eyes as Mitch burst into laughter from the opposite side of the bed. “Hi baby boy.”

  “Hi mama,” he said, before yawning suddenly.

  Mitch leaned over the opposite side of the bed. “You’ve been sleeping for a while, buddy. How do you feel?”

  “Sleepy.” He turned his head slowly in Mitchell’s direction. “Hi Mitch.”

  “Hey buddy.”

  Mitch crossed one arm over his chest and slapped the opposite hand over his mouth. Meagan supposed it was to keep from blubbering like a big ole baby. There was nothing quite like a kid coming out of a coma, to turn a big, bad Marine to a blubbering mass of emotions.

  Buck faced her again, tried to lift his hand. “Wheaw am I?”

  “You’re in a hospital, baby. Do you know why?”

  “No.”

  Buck turned toward the door as Dr’s. Tanner Collins and Tiffany McAllister entered the room.

  “Hey, look who’s awake!” Tanner said, obviously pleased at what he saw. He took a penlight from his pocket and checked Buck’s pupils and reflexes while Tiffany called out his vitals from the monitor readings. “How many fingers am I holding up, Buck?”

  “Thwee.”

  “That’s right. Do you know who these people are?”

  “Mommy and Mitch,” Buck said, before pointing to Tiffany. “And you aw Bwianna’s mommy, and you…” he pointed to Tanner. “Aw Dani and Sami’s daddy.”

  “Look at you showing off!” Tanner said, beaming down at his patient.

  “Do you remember what happened Buck?”

  A tremendous relief washed over Meagan when he said he didn’t. Maybe it would save him from a little mental anguish.

  “You don’t remember trick or treating?” Tiffany asked.

  His face lit up in a smile. “I was the Hulk! And we had a hay wide, and Mitch dwove the twuck.”

  “You are exactly right. And that, little man, is all you need to remember about that night. Besides a couple of broken bones, and a bump on the head, you are just about perfect!”

  He turned to Meagan. “We’ll get him down for a CT scan later today, but I want all those drugs out of his system first.”

  He stepped aside to let Tiffany sit next to him on the bed. “Hey Buck, how are you feeling?”

  “Good. I’m hungwy. Can I have some pizza?”

  Tiffany grinned, having to talk over the laughter in the room. “Well, how about some chicken noodle soup and jello for starters? We’ll work our way up to that pizza, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Now Buck, you had an accident, so your leg is in a brace. And you remember when you hurt your arm on the merry go round?” She continued at his nod. “Well you hurt it again so I had to put this cast on you so it heals better. The cool thing about a cast is that people can draw on it! Like this…” She pulled a red pen from her pocket and drew a stick man on his cast. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Yeah!”

  “So, are you hurting anywhere? Your leg or your arm?” She nodded when he said he wasn’t. “Good, because we don’t want you to hurt. So if either your leg or your arm starts to hurt, you let somebody know, okay?”

  The doctors walked out, asking Meagan to join them. Reluctantly, she left Mitch with Buck so she could go talk to them, immediately worried they were holding back.

  “He’s good, right?”

  “He’s excellent from what I can see,” Tiffany admitted.

  “The CT scan will tell the entire story, but from what I’ve seen and heard, I don’t think it will show any abnormalities.” He sent Tiffany a cautious glance. “We did want to talk to you about what some patients have experienced while under induced comas of this type.”

  Meagan felt her hackles rise. “What is it?”

  “Nightmares. He hasn’t mentioned anything yet, has he?” Tiffany asked.

  “No, and I’ve been with him since he woke up.”

  Tiffany nodded. “Good, let’s hope he bypassed that little curve in the road. Some patients have said they were extremely disturbing. We just wanted you to be aware that it was a possibility.”

  Meagan gave her a slow nod. “I’ll be sure and let you know if he says anything.” She re-entered the room quietly, watching Mitch interact with her son.

  The attentive Marine had pulled a chair close to the bed and sat up with his hand touching Buck’s head, as though afraid to let go of him. “Hey Buck, can you tell me why the first word out of your mouth was ‘pterodactyl’?”

  Buck’s next words, spoken in a reverent whisper, had her immediate attention.

  “Because my daddy said his favwite dinosauw was the ptewodactyl, too.”

  Mitch looked up, letting his gaze land on Meagan as she approached the bed slowly.

  “Your daddy?” she asked, as a cold sweat swept over her body. “Buck, did you have a bad dream about your daddy?”

  “Nu-uh. But I saw him and he said the ptewodactyl was his favowite one…just like me. And mama, you know what else he said?” He turned to her, his eyes wide and wondrous.

  “What’s that Buckaroo?”

  “He said when he was little he couldn’t say his �
��aw’s either.”

  “Really? Well, I sure didn’t know either of those things.” Her heart pounded as she sat on the bed next to her son. “It’s nice that you had a good dream about your daddy while you slept.”

  “I didn’t dweam it, mama. I saw him, but I didn’t know who he was at fiwst.”

  “Why not?” Meagan was imagining all kinds of horrific circumstances in her mind. Did the sad man’s face appear first on the body of a monster?

  “He didn’t look like he did in the pictuw in my woom. He was dwessed,” he looked at Mitch and pointed. “He was dwessed just like Mitch…in blue jeans and one like that.” He pointed to the black and gold number 9 New Orleans Saints jersey Mitch wore. “Assept daddy’s was blue and it had a big cow on it.”

  Meagan covered her mouth suddenly.

  Mitch chuckled. “A cow?”

  Meagan wasn’t laughing. “Buck, did it have a number on it?”

  “Uh huh…it was a number 8. It did this.” With his good arm, he drew two circles in the air, one below the other. “He had one heah and heah.” He pointed to both his arms.

  Meagan swallowed. “A number 8, are you sure?”

  “Yeah. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven and eight!”

  “Oh my God.” She stared at Mitch, then her son, then Mitch again.

  Mitch walked around to meet her. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s his Texans jersey. Navy blue with the bull mascot on the front and number 8 for Schaub, he liked Schaub. Said 8 was his lucky number. I sent it to him his very last Christmas. Never even got to see him wear it in person, accept for once during our Skype calls. I…hang on…” She slipped her wallet from her backpack and thumbed through a stack of cards and photos until she found something. “He emailed this image to me and I cropped him out and printed it. It’s kind of low resolution so it didn’t enlarge very well.” She held out the image of Chris in a pair of jeans wearing his jersey proudly. “It was a group shot of several of the guys all wearing their different team jerseys.”

  She turned slowly, held the photo up so that Buck could see it. “Sweetie, is this the shirt you saw?”

  Buck’s brows drew together as he concentrated on the picture. “Hey, that’s my daddy.” He reached out to touch the picture, its laminated surface a little scuffed and cloudy. “That’s what he was wawing, mama. You see the cow?” He gave Meagan a toothy grin. “And he was smiling, just like that. He was vewy happy to see me. I gave him a hug and evwything.”

 

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