Once memories of her dad had been systematically dealt with, they were replaced with flashbacks of Sean. So many moments played out behind unseeing eyes, red from rubbing cheap airplane tissues over them.
When they landed, Abby waited until everyone had gotten off the plane before standing. The flight attendant was picking up trash and lifted a book off one of the seats. Abby saw that it was a bible. The recollection of Sean’s text message pounded into her head like a gong. Genesis 29:20. Abby hadn’t been thinking about the verse, only the fact that Sean said he wasn’t going to make it.
“Can I borrow that?” she asked.
“No problem,” the flight attendant said as she handed it over.
Abby nodded her head and began to walk down the aisle, but she slowed when she read the words.
So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her.
Abby left the bible on a seat, placed a hat over her hair, and sunglasses on the red rims that were going to have to pass for eyes, and walked away with even more tears in them.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
CONFLICT tore within Abby’s emotions as she watched Veena approach her at the gate. The dismay she felt over Dad’s stroke, Sean’s disappearance, and having to come back to the U.S. was outweighed for several precious moments as Veena’s arms surrounded her in a familiar hug.
“I missed you so much, Abs.” Her voice was honest and real. It wasn’t just a polite statement when someone arrives after a long absence. Abby could tell that Veena had truly felt a loss while Abby was gone. It made her feel valued and appreciated.
“I didn’t miss much about this place,” Abby admitted. “But you were at the top of the list.”
Abby saw Spence several yards away, leaning against a pole, clearly allowing them a bit of girl time before he stepped in. “I didn’t realize that you and Spence were still together,” Abby accused with a smile on her face.
Veena lifted her hand and Abby startled at the sparkle on her finger. “Oh my gosh! Are you engaged?”
They hugged, squealed, and jumped at the same time as Abby allowed another ounce of joy to enter her system before delving back into real life. “Thank you for sharing this with me,” she said. “I really needed a pick me up.”
They walked towards Spence as Abby held Veena’s hand tight. She didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to lose that piece of joy in her heart. “You sound so different,” Veena said.
“My larynx was damaged, amongst a few other things,” Abby reminded her.
“No. That’s not it. You have a definite accent now.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“And you look totally different. I wouldn’t have recognized you except for the big goggly sunglasses and hat you’re wearing. But I have to warn you, the disguise will only protect you until we get to the baggage claim. We scouted it earlier and it’s packed with people. Someone’s bound to recognize you. If you give us a description of your luggage, we can send Spence and I’ll take you straight to the car.”
“No luggage. I tend to travel light anymore.”
“Wow. That’s different.”
“There’s a lot different,” Abby sighed, recoiling from the thought patterns seeping into her head.
Abby reintroduced herself to Spence and they high-tailed it to the parking garage before anyone recognized her. It was a relief. Abby wasn’t sure she could handle any picture taking at the moment.
“We’re going straight to the hospital,” Veena pointed out. Spence was driving, so she and Veena sat in the back seat and tried to make up for over a year of absenteeism.
“Have you seen him?” Abby asked.
“Yes. He’s very weak, some dysphagia, but that may get better quickly, hemiparesis on his right side, seems like some paralysis, but I don’t know. I didn’t look at his chart.”
“How’s my mom?”
“She’s had better days,” Veena said with a sigh. “Getting hounded by the press is no fun. They’re camped out at the hospital. We’ll go in through a back entrance near the E.R. The staff is expecting you and they’ve been really good about keeping out any media.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Yeah,” Veena said. “Guess you haven’t had to deal with those jerks since you’ve been gone, huh?”
“No. It’s been nice,” Abby admitted. “Well, until the picture.”
Veena laughed and Abby shot her a glare. “What? You have to admit; the meme is hilarious.”
“What meme?”
“The one with…You mean, you haven’t seen it?”
“I don’t go online.”
“Oh, girl,” Veena laughed again. “You look hot in this picture.”
“I really don’t want to see it, Veena.”
“You do look really hot, Abby,” Spence piped up from the front seat.
Abby sank lower and prepared herself for whatever Veena was about to show her. When a phone bounced into her lap, Abby forced herself to open her eyes and look at the screen. She was surprised at the image. She did look amazing. The uncomfortable high heels had accentuated her legs and even… was that a bit of panty showing where Sean’s hand had hiked up the dress? Abby groaned. Then she read the words under the picture.
KENYA GET A ROOM?
“That’s not funny,” Abby said, but she couldn’t help but smile. She zoomed into the picture and focused on Sean. He was so handsome. His lips were buried in her neck as his fingers wrapped around her hair and pulled her head back. She remembered the voltage flowing through her as he’d kissed her. Why couldn’t she have that moment back? Why did all of the good parts of her life have to end up on the cutting room floor?
“You both got better looking,” Veena said as she accepted the phone back from Abby. “Maybe I need to take a little vacation in Nairobi before the big day.”
Abby noticed the car turn into the hospital parking lot, but she wanted to keep conversation light as long as possible. “Do you have a date for the wedding yet?”
“We were going to do it at the end of February, but that was too close to Oscar night, so we moved it. We figured that January was a good month for you.”
“A good month?”
“Yes. Because you have to be there. You are, after all, the maid of honor.”
Abby felt another surge of happiness roll through her. She would treasure each of those moments, because she knew that within the next few minutes, her heart would be reaching new depths of anguish. The more padding she had for the fall, the better.
“That’s so sweet of you. I would be honored. And what’s this you say about the Oscars?”
“Your mom’s latest movie. It was a such a heartbreaker, wasn’t it? I must have used up half a box of tissues watching it.”
“Admit it, Veena,” Spence called from the front seat again. “It was the whole box.”
“Whatever,” she waved him off with the flick of her wrist. “But didn’t you just love it?”
A tinge of guilt entered Abby’s words as she spoke. “I haven’t had a chance to watch it.”
“Are you kidding me? It’s the talk of the country right now. It’s totally going to get nominated for an Academy Award. Your mom will run away with that best actress award, I just know it.”
“That’s so wonderful,” Abby said, but it was a mismatched statement. Her heart crumbled as she wondered about Dad’s condition. It was April now. How would he be feeling by February? Would he be able to walk Mom down the red carpet as he had so many times before, or would he be deteriorating in a hospital bed… or worse.
She brushed the thoughts out of her mind and tried to focus on the positive. They only had a few moments left before she was face to face with one of her worst fears.
“Maybe we could go see the movie,” Abby said, trying to distract her mind with her mouth. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in a theater.”
“Have you ever been in a theater?”
“Of cou
rse, I…”
“Besides your mom’s opening night shows?” Veena interrupted.
“Sean and I went to see a western comedy that one time. The one with Merle Trace. Remember that one?”
They pulled up to a parking spot and Veena tapped her hand on Abby’s knee. “Sorry to hear about Sean. He’s got a bad habit of disappearing on you. I think I’ll beat him up the next time we see him.”
“He’s had enough of that for a lifetime,” Abby mumbled as she got out of the car. Fortunately, Veena didn’t hear her. She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was hurt. It was such a mystery. She would have to rely on God to provide the answers.
But she definitely did not have it in her to wait seven years.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
VEENA was right, several media vans were parked behind rows of orange traffic cones about fifty yards from the main entrance of the hospital. Having done her rotations at the hospital for so long, Abby recognized that security had been beefed up with the presence of a popular senator in their care. She walked between Spence’s towering frame and Veena’s formidable glare to the entrance of the E.R., not gaining one glance from the onlookers near the media vans.
With a sigh of relief, they entered the side door and walked the stairs to the ICU. The smell was familiar, but different. Abby recognized the various chemical scents, not only from her clinical rotations, but also from her work at South Mission Hospital. Things were much cleaner here, almost to a paranoid level. It unnerved Abby, and she held her hands in check, worried that she might get a fingerprint or a piece of dust on an errant piece of furniture.
“Oh, Abigail. We were so glad to hear that you were coming.”
Pat Rose was a nurse Abby recognized from her training. Kind and personable, but not enough to let patients get the best of her. If anyone could care for Dad properly, Pat was the one to do it. She wrapped Abby up in a hug, very different from the professional stance they had when she was doing rotations, but it felt good.
“How’s my dad doing?”
“Hope you don’t mind waiting. They’re cleaning him up a bit. Your mom wanted him to look presentable for his daughter. After all, it’s been a while, hm?”
Abby could tell that Pat was fishing for information, but it would be impossible for Abby to put into mere words her life of the past year and a half. “Yes. It will be good to see him.”
Pat leaned over to Abby and opened a tin of Altoids. “You sound like you’ve got a frog in your throat, dear. Been crying much?”
Abby took one of the mints, but didn’t explain her change in voice to Pat. The truth would come out soon enough. Abby considered Pat and the other people that she’d worked with. How much did they know, besides the lies that had been splashed over the internet? Did they know the details? That she hadn’t been able to talk for months? That she left the country to get away from the news coverage? That she had a stalker who threatened her every year, and had managed to get to her at Minck’s after-party?
Veena would have to fill Abby in on the popular knowledge later. Pat was motioning to her from room 318. Evidently, Dad was ready.
Pat knocked lightly on the doorframe as Abby approached, but before Abby could step into the room, she was tackled by a figure in pastel blue. Mom.
“Oh, Abigail, sweetheart, you’re really here. Oh, my sweet baby girl, I’ve missed you so much.” Abby stepped back in the corridor with Mom draped around her shoulders in an embrace that took her back two years - before the horror that had engulfed her life, to a time when she and Mom would laugh together at their Sunday afternoon lunches. Was it possible that Abby had forgotten the good things? She’d been so focused on all the horrible parts of her life, that she’d been unable to provide herself simple reminders of precious moments.
After a satisfying hug, Mom pulled back, but held tight to Abby’s hands. “You’re so skinny,” she said.
“I feel healthy.”
Mom continued to gaze at her, eyes moving from the hair she’d attempted to style in the rear-view mirror of the car, down to the sandals she wore. The ones she’d purchased from Keambiroiro - a memory of how she’d encountered so much evil and been able to walk away mightier.
“You look older, but in a good way,” Mom said with a nostalgic smile.
Abby too was taking in the changes in front of her. Mom’s hair was shorter, more appropriate for her age, her clothes were rumpled, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup - a rare moment. “Did you sleep here at the hospital?”
“Yes. The staff has been so kind. I know I should go home, but I just can’t leave him. He’s… he’s not…”
Abby interrupted before Mom lost tears that she shouldn’t have to shed at this moment. “I’ve seen a lot of strokes,” Abby tried to reassure her. “It’s scary. But he’ll pull through this. I’ve seen a lot of miracles too.”
Mom squeezed Abby’s hands and smiled. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you, baby.” She glanced back towards the ICU window. The curtains were closed. “He doesn’t know you’re here. With the way things have been for you lately, I didn’t want to take a chance telling him you were coming, and then have you not show up.”
The way things have been? Did Mom know about Sean? Abby didn’t ask. Mom didn’t need any more drama in her life than she already had.
“Is it okay if I see him?”
The warm feeling of delicate hands on her own dropped as Mom lifted her fingers to her eyes. “He can’t talk, sweetie. And he’s having trouble swallowing, so he keeps doing this choking thing. It’s so hard to see.”
Abby knew that her mom had rarely been around people that had been ill or injured. It must be traumatic for her. But Abby had seen the worst that humanity could throw out. Surely, seeing Dad after a stroke wouldn’t be that hard.
She was wrong.
Senator Ellwood lay in bed, the only thing demonstrating life was one eye focused toward the television on the wall blaring out an old episode of the A-Team. His other eyelid was drooping, along with his facial muscles and the rest of his body that sat motionless under the hospital issued blanket. His hair was neat and tidy as always, and Abby could see that Mom had attempted to place a night shirt around his shoulders, but it was disheveled and out of place, too difficult to get around the I.V. and other tubes that currently snaked around his body.
“Dad?”
The only eye that was fully functioning moved slowly from the television towards where Abby stood standing in the doorway. She didn’t want to close in yet, not sure if her presence would cause undue stress. It had been a long time, and the sight of her might be too much for him to take in.
After a few moments, Abby observed recognition set in. She stepped forward towards the bed, followed by Mom and Pat. She could see that Dad was struggling to move, to talk, to do anything but sit there and let life happen around him. She debated stepping back out of the room.
“Now, now, Senator. You mustn’t let this little excitement send the machines into a thither,” Pat was saying as she checked vitals on the monitor and keyed notes into the computer. The beep of the machines slowed to a reasonable level, so Abby chose to stay. “We’re all happy to see her,” Pat continued. “But, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to chat, so don’t try to get it all over in these first few minutes.”
Abby noticed what Pat was talking about. The muscles in one side of Dad’s jaw were working overtime trying to move it into a speaking position, a groan of undefined timbre reverberated in his throat. Abby stepped into a location that would make it more comfortable for him to see her and took his hand. She was pleased to feel a light press of his fingers against her palm. It was a good sign. “Can you do that again?” she asked. Dad just stared at her, no movement in his hand, but the muscle in his jaw continued to flex and stretch with the desire to speak.
“Try to squeeze my hand,” Abby said, hoping to open one line of communication.
“He can’t do it yet,” Mom said, coming up behind her.
/>
Abby wondered if the first bit of pressure may have been some sort of involuntary muscle twinge. It was entirely possible. She stood there holding Dad’s hand while he worked his jaw and flicked his one focused eye from her, to Mom, and back again. His face was set in a combination of immobility and worry. The apprehension wasn’t so much an outwardly visible observation, but more of an inner turmoil that Abby could sense only from knowing this man for the last twenty-five years - minus one. Something was tearing him up inside, and it wasn’t the stroke.
“We’ll get you communicating again,” Abby whispered to him slowly. “Then you can tell me.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
IT was three weeks before Dad could get the hand squeeze right, but even then, it only lasted for a few moments before his muscles began their own dance, not providing Abby with further information.
They’d settled into a routine. Mom went out two days a week for meetings and interviews while Abby stayed with Dad. It had taken everything Abby had to convince Mom to even step out of the house. After the first few times, Mom finally got used the fact that this was her new life. She would have to do the work of communicating Senator Ellwood’s status to the public, answer questions about Abby’s arrival in the United States, and skirt around comments about Sean’s continued disappearance from the public eye.
Abby saw the news this time around, she couldn’t help it. Mom would cry on her shoulder when the lies of the media surfaced, exposing non-facts that were much more interesting than the monotony of what their lives had really become. Theories abounded about Abby’s relationship with Sean. Secret love child? Undercover sex change operation? Drug addled stupor? It was all out there in the ocean of information, waiting for the latest wave of trends to catch it up in its grimy hands and push it to the surface, hoping for a bite.
Given New Worlds Page 24