Hannah sighed. “Why not? It could be like those Crime Stopper ads. No harm in trying.”
She’d stashed the damaged jacket and the three water bottles, all of which still smelled strongly of vinegar even though they’d been emptied, in her cedar chest at home, hoping Mama wouldn’t discover them. She had no idea how she would explain them away if she did. The last thing she wanted her parents to find out was that she was playing Nancy Drew.
Glancing down at her watch, she finished the last of her shake and stood.
“I’ve got to get going. I’ve got a volunteer shift at the hospital this afternoon. I missed last week because of a cold. I want to try and see Liam.”
“Good luck with that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that since Liam’s awakened, the staff has really been strict about his visitors. I guess they don’t want him excited. It’s actually quite funny. While he was out, no one even noticed I was there, but now … it’s like the nurses are equipped with radar. If I do get in to see him, they monitor the time I’m there as if he’s a prisoner. They’re in and out like jailors, afraid I’m going to help him escape.”
Hannah frowned. “I’m sure it’s not that bad, but thanks for the head’s up. Papa mentioned he was hoping to lift the visiting ban today.”
If Papa changed his mind, it wouldn’t matter. Almost all the nurses in the hospital knew her, and Liam would want to see her. She was sure of it. There wouldn’t be a problem. Feeling better about everything, she picked up the pace. She’d waited two weeks to see for herself that Liam was on the mend. No one was going to stop her now.
Waving at Erik, she left the coffee shop and hurried to the hospital.
* * * *
Liam blinked as Dr. Connors flashed the light in his eyes, the way he’d done each morning for the last few days, but unlike those days, the light didn’t hurt as much, and he wasn’t sleepy. He ached to be able to get up and out of bed. He craved fresh air, and the need to move, even if his lower body didn’t get the message, was overwhelming. He couldn’t stand being confined like this, and the thought that this might be what his future looked like terrified him.
“How’s your vision? Any blurriness?” Dr. Connors asked.
“No. Things are clear,” he answered.
“What about pain?” the doctor asked prodding his ribs.
Liam winced.
“As long as I don’t breathe in too deeply, and no one touches my chest, the pain is negligible. As far as my head goes, the elephants stomping on my brain have been replaced by stampeding horses, but it’s tolerable …. Feeling pain means I’m alive, and I’ll take it.”
Dr. Connors scowled. “Some of the headache comes from a drug hangover from the meds we gave you to keep you in a coma. They should be out of your system soon. As far as the breathing goes, whether it hurts or not, you have to breathe deeply. I know the physiotherapist was in here with those coughing exercises. They may hurt, but believe me, the last thing you need right now is pneumonia. How do your legs feel?”
“They’ve gone from dead weight to an irritating numbness, as if they’re asleep.”
Frowning more deeply, the doctor checked the chart. “There’s a good chance that will change in the next day or two. You’ll get a tingling, like pins and needles. Don’t be afraid to mention it to the nurse. It can be very painful.”
Liam nodded. Not something to look forward to. “Any chance I can get out of bed soon? I feel like the walls are closing in on me.”
“Your mother mentioned you would get antsy as soon as you were feeling more awake. The best I can do today is get you into that chair shortly,” he answered indicating the turquoise blue recliner. “The change in position could increase the pins and needles effect, so if you hurt, say something. If everything goes well today, we’ll move you out of ICU into a room with a view.”
“That would be great. When can I get out of here as in outside?”
“Let’s take it one step at a time, shall we? Katie should be along any second. After I finish with you, she can get you cleaned up. It’s Sunday. I’ve lifted the no visitation rule so you may have company this afternoon. I know Hannah wants to stop by and see you after she finishes her candy-striper shift.” He winked. “It’s been hard to get a moment’s peace at home.”
Liam felt the skin under his bandages heat, making them even itchier than they’d been the last few days.
“She’s popped in a few times, but you were asleep. I put a stop to visitors other than your parents and Erik after you awoke, and while you’re by no means out of the woods, I think you’re definitely on the road to recovery and a little company might cheer you up.”
“Yeah. I hope so,” he answered, but his heart wasn’t in it. What if his new face was a mess and Hannah wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him?
Something in his eyes must have given his reluctance away.
“I know you’re scared that seeing you this way may make a difference to your friends, but believe me, they’ll be thrilled to see you up and out of bed. If you ever want to run again, you’ve got a lot of work to do. You know how important it is to train regularly. I won’t sugarcoat it. You’ve got a long, hard road ahead of you, but the more effort you put into it, the faster you’ll get back on your feet. If you want to run next spring, and everything shapes up like I believe it will, then having friends willing to help out will make things easier for you.”
“When do these come off?” Liam indicated the bandages on his face, the real reason behind his wariness.
“Actually, taking off those bandages is why I’m here. I’m sure it’ll make you feel better and lift your mother’s spirits, too.”
“I guess that’ll depend on how I look, but as far as having them come off, I’m more than ready. They itch like crazy, and if I’m going to look like Frankenstein’s monster or some Zombie Apocalypse survivor, I would rather know sooner than later.”
Dr. Connors chuckled. “Graham Rivers must feel his ears burning. He’s a top-notch plastic surgeon, and a good friend of mine. Your mother gave him your grad picture to work with, and I think you’ll be satisfied. Katie can give you a shave—that’s most likely why your face is itchy since the sutures were primarily dissolving ones. We kept your face bandaged after we removed the wires in your jaw to stop you from grabbing at it during the nightmares you had.”
“Nightmares?”
“Yes. While patients in a natural coma can’t dream, those in a medically-induced coma can, and the dreams can be far more vivid than any others. One of the reasons your mother refused to leave were those nightmares. She was afraid you would hurt yourself.”
“I see. When will the collar come off? I would love to be able to move my head.”
“We’ll leave that on for another few days. Dr. Miller, the hospital psychiatrist, will be by to see you in the morning and administer a couple of tests,” Dr. Connors continued, the reassuring smile he wore plastered on his face. Would they teach him how to look so calm all the time when he went to medical school—if he got to go to medical school?
“Tests? Because I don’t remember how I got here?” he asked, suddenly afraid he had brain as well as body damage.
“Liam, as I’ve told you, forgetting a traumatic event is often the brain’s way of coping with the incident. It’s way too soon to know whether the memory loss is temporary or permanent. Doc Miller will have a better handle on the situation tomorrow. Now, how about we get rid of those bandages? Here’s Katie.”
Liam sucked in a deep breath. Mom had told him the police had no leads on who had hit him and unless Liam remembered something that could help, the case would end up unsolved. The thought that he could lose everything and no one would ever be held accountable was a bitter pill to swallow.
* * * *
Hannah oohed and aahed over Lois Silmser’s new baby boy. The little fellow—well, not so little since he’d weighed in at ten pounds, three ounces—slept peacefully in his mother’s ar
ms.
“That’s my brother,” Mallory said proudly. “He’s only one day old. Grandpa says he’s a chip, but he looks like a baby to me.”
Hannah smothered a giggle.
Mallory turned to her father and indicated the flowers, balloons, and gifts in the room. “Is he going to have a birthday, every day?”
“No, pumpkin. He won’t get another one until this time next year.”
“Too bad. I liked it ‘cause I got presents, too.”
Roy Silmser laughed. “You, young lady have been getting presents almost every day since I got home.”
“That’s ‘cause I been a good girl and Gramma rewards good behavior,” she answered with all the seriousness a three-year-old could muster, forcing Hannah to school her face and not burst out laughing.
“What’s your brother’s name?” Hannah asked, smiling down at the blue-blanketed bundle. He was twice the size of the other baby born yesterday.
“He’s Ethan John Silmser, named after Grandpa, just like I’m Mallory Jean after Gramma,” the child answered seriously. “It’s tradition.”
“Well, it’s a very nice tradition.” Hannah handed her the last box of apple juice on the cart.
“Are you named after your grandmother?” Mallory asked, as if she assumed the tradition was universal. She pulled the straw off the juice box and handed it to her father to open.
“No. I’m not named after anyone in particular. Mom and Dad just liked the name.”
“I like it, too,” Mallory said, nodding before sucking on the straw in her tetra pack of apple juice.
Hannah turned back to Mrs. Silmser and smiled. “So, do you get to go home now?”
Lois smiled. “Not yet. A couple more days to make sure my sugar and insulin have stabilized, and then I’ll be off.”
“Then you’ll be gone before my next shift. I look forward to babysitting them both.”
“And I look forward to getting back to my normal routine, but I won’t be calling you for at least a month.” She laughed. “We’ll give this guy a couple of weeks to acclimatize himself to the house and his sister, and give me time to get back into something other than maternity clothes.”
Waving at the happy family, Hannah left the room and hurried down the hall to bring the cart back to the kitchenette.
“There you are,” Mrs. Nugent, the nurse in charge of the candy striper program came out of the nursing office. “All done?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was just going to put the cart away.”
“Well, I have a favor to ask. Susan Jeffries didn’t make it in today. Could you go up and do her shift? I’m short-staffed as it is, and I can’t spare anyone to do it.”
“No problem, Mrs. N. I don’t mind helping out. Which floor?”
“Four, and then back down to three. There are half a dozen patients in orthopedics and a couple in ICU who get a little something in the afternoon. Maggie White will see to it that you get everything you’ll need.”
Hannah smiled. She’d been worried about how she would break the ice with Liam and now, just like that, she had the perfect excuse for being there. It looked as if fate was smiling on her.
“I’ll get this squared away, and then I’ll go right up.”
“Bless you child. I wish all our volunteers were as dedicated as you are.”
Hannah just smiled.
* * * *
Liam watched as Katie Runions, his primary care nurse, pulled on the rubber gloves and then opened the medical pack. She spread the items inside it on the cloth and picked up the blunt-nosed scissors.
“So, are you ready to be unveiled to the world?” Dr. Connors asked him.
More nervous than he’d been since he’d awakened and grateful he wasn’t wearing that heart monitor any longer, Liam nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Katie, if you please,” the doctor said.
“Just relax. This won’t hurt,” she said, smiling. “I haven’t maimed anyone today.”
Liam held his breath, both because he still hesitated to breathe deeply, despite what the doctor had said, and because he was afraid to move and have her poke him in the eye or something. What would they find under the bandages? As she cut through them, his face lost its confined feeling and the itch eased.
“All done. My, aren’t you handsome,” she said.
Liam felt the heat rise all the way to the tips of his ears.
“Let’s have a good look at you,” Dr. Connors said, taking Liam’s chin in his hand and moving from side to side since Liam’s head didn’t move. “I’m impressed. I had a quick look when I took out the wires, but Rivers has outdone himself. Most of the bruising and redness have gone and considering the level of reconstruction required, I’m amazed. Surprisingly, we didn’t have to shave your head since most of the damage was frontal. One day, when you’re ready to leave this place, you’ll have to look at the before pictures.”
Liam wasn’t sure he agreed. The nurse handed him a mirror, and he swallowed awkwardly before raising it so that he could see his face. The image staring back at him looked like he’d gone ten rounds in a boxing ring. There was severe bruising under his eyes, and while they weren’t black, they were an interesting shade of yellow, with a touch of purple here and there. His nose was straighter than he remembered—he’d broken it years ago playing hockey. His chin was squarer, and his cheek bones more chiseled, but that could be because he looked a lot thinner, the little baby fat he’d carried on it long gone. His chin, lower face, and upper neck were covered in a slight beard that any Hollywood icon would’ve envied. Regardless, the image staring back at him was definitely him—an improved version—and he could live with that. Once the bruising was gone, he might even be handsome. Stress rolled off him, and he smiled, stunned to realize he was missing his front teeth.
“Where are my teeth?” Was that why his speech had sounded different?
“You lost half a dozen of your top ones and a couple of bottom ones because of the impact with the road.”
“Am I going to need dentures?” Great—false teeth at seventeen, and he wasn’t even a hockey player. He’d failed to make the school team and had chosen to ski instead.
“No,” Dr. Connors said and laughed. “The dentist will put in implants as soon as you’re up for it—probably before the end of the week. In the meantime, you’ll be on a soft diet as we get your digestive system up and running again.”
Liam smiled, his face feeling strangely stiff. “I look like Dad,” he said.
“Your dad’s a good-looking man. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.” Dr. Connors stopped in the doorway. “I’m sure Hannah will try to drop by this afternoon.”
Liam stared at his reflection once more. What would Hannah think of his new face?
Dr. Connors left the room and the nurse approached the bed with a basin of water.
Liam eyed the washbowl suspiciously. “Another bed bath?” he asked, feeling his skin heat from head to toe once more.
The nurse chuckled. “I’m afraid so, but you can do most of it today. As soon as you can manage it, we’ll get you into the shower. Now, just relax. Do you want me to shave you? The scruff is in style.”
“Maybe leave it. Now that the bandages are off, it doesn’t itch. I’ll let Mom decide whether it stays or not.”
More than likely, it would be Hannah’s call, but no sense getting ahead of himself. He smiled at the nurse and prayed he would survive another of what had to be one of the most embarrassing moments in his life.
Chapter Six
Hannah took the elevator from the third floor—pediatrics and geriatrics—down to the ICU level. She redid her ponytail using the elevator’s brass plate as a mirror, and added fresh lip gloss. It had been lots of fun entertaining the little ones as she’d handed out juice to those who could have it and smiles to the others. Since Cedar Grove wasn’t a major center, kids with cancer and other life-threatening diseases went to Augusta. The half dozen kids here were those in for other issues, like Chr
isty Wilson who’d broken her leg in three places when she’d fallen out of an apple tree. She’d be here for another week before she could go home.
Visiting with the seniors was always fun, especially when a number of them knew her by name. Mrs. Jones’s COPD was giving her trouble again, and Mr. Holmes, no relation to the infamous detective as he always said, despite his British accent, had fallen and broken his left hip and arm. Papa had just finished his surgery when they’d brought Liam in. Mr. H. would be released as soon as his daughter arrived from Tucson to take him back with her. He wouldn’t be able to manage living alone any longer.
Not rushing to deprive anyone of the visit which was as vital to their well-being as any other part of their care, Hannah handed out juice and cookies and laughed at old jokes, pretending she hadn’t heard them before. Now, she had four in orthopedics to visit and then she could move on to the ICU, leaving Liam for last.
Once she’d tended to all her patients, Hannah hurried down the hall. While she wouldn’t overstay her welcome, she wanted to see Liam awake for herself. The last few weeks, knowing he was going to survive, she’d dreamed of going in there and throwing herself down onto the bed, having him take her into his arms and kiss her the way all the best hunks did in the movies, but with her luck, she would miss the bed, or even worse bounce off it, fall to the floor, and drag him down on top of her.
And as far as crying with joy, when she sobbed for any reason, she looked awful. In the movies, when women cried, their eyes were dewy and sparkling and they looked beautiful—their mascara didn’t even run. Not Hannah, oh no! Her eyes puffed up, her nose was as red as Rudolph’s, her skin got all blotchy, and if she was lucky enough to have mascara on, you could bet the farm it would run all over. She would more closely resemble the Bride of Frankenstein than some gorgeous weeping beauty.
“Come in,” Mrs. Howard’s voice sounded loudly, destroying any fantasy she might have of running into Liam’s waiting arms.
Schooling her face to hide her disappointment, Hannah pushed the door open. Liam, dressed in a blue and white hospital gown, a flannelette sheet like a shawl across his shoulders, another one covering his legs, sat in the turquoise lounger. The immobilizing collar was still in place, but the oxygen mask was gone as were the bandages on his face.
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