He’s giving me way too much credit. I was only trying to keep him from being homesick. I teach reading myself—how did I miss the signs?
“Looking back, I just want to say if I ever brushed off something you were doing or didn’t seem interested, it wasn’t because I didn’t care… it’s because I was afraid you’d find out I couldn’t read and think less of me. And your opinion has always meant a lot to me.”
Wow… I’d misinterpreted just about every interaction of our teen years, had assumed Alex was too cool for my dorky science projects and spelling bees.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, if something had happened to you, and I hadn’t told you how much your letters had meant to me, I don’t know if I could’ve lived with myself. I love you, Marigold.”
I heard his kiss, although I didn’t feel it. But I folded it into my heart.
“I’m going to head home and surprise Mom. I’ll be back real soon. You take care.”
I want so much to get up out of this bed and go with Alex so our family can be together for Thanksgiving.
But I can’t.
Twenty-three thousand two hundred sixty-four… Twenty-three thousand two hundred sixty-five…
November 25, Friday
TWENTY-FOUR THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED THIRTY… Twenty-four thousand seven hundred thirty-one… Twenty-four thousand seven hundred thirty-three…
Since my family had all visited the night before, I don’t expect any visitors on Black Friday. Besides, I’m now in the twenty-four hour countdown to Duncan’s wedding, so I don’t mind being alone to wallow.
So when the door opened, the last person I expected was Sidney. She and David Spooner had stepped into ICU after my recent surgery to visit, but to my knowledge, this was the first time she’d been alone in my room since Halloween.
When she tried to kill me.
Let’s just say I’m skittish.
“Hi, Marigold. I wanted to talk to you when no one else is around. I feel like there’s a lot of unfinished business between us, but it’s hard to tell when I don’t know if you can even hear me or understand me.” She sighed. “Ugh, this is hard.”
Harder if you’re the helpless one.
“Remember when we were little, and we shared a bedroom? We had two twin beds with matching pink polka-dotted bedspreads.”
I remember. The beds had shelves in the headboards. Mine were full of books, and Sid’s were full of dolls.
“There were shelves in the beds. Mine were stuffed with dolls and yours were stacked with books.”
Shared memories.
“You would read to me at night while I held my dolls.”
No matter how many stories I read, it wasn’t enough.
More, Mar’Gol, more. Please?
And Sid hated sleeping alone.
Sid laughed. “But I hated sleeping alone, remember? I would whine until you’d crawl into bed with me and let me stroke your hair.”
Mar’gol, let me pet your hair.
Twirl my hair was more like it. I’d wake up the next morning and my hair would be in knots.
“I loved sharing a room with you,” Sid said. “It made me feel grown up. I was so upset when you convinced Mom to let you have your own bedroom.”
It didn’t matter. Sid would still come in to my room most nights.
Can I scooch in, Mar’gol?
Then she would proceed to sprawl her little body over the entire bed.
“We used to be so close,” Sid said. “When did that change?”
The age difference, and divergent interests… it just happened. A tiny part of me was resentful that my mother’s choice to have an affair meant I didn’t have as much in common with my siblings as I might have otherwise.
“I was so jealous of you,” Sid said.
Wait—what?
“Mother always trusted you, let you make your own decisions.”
It’s called “disinterest.”
“But she was always pushing me, like she didn’t think I could make a good choice on my own.”
I’m starting to think that Sid grew up in a different house than I did, because that’s not how I remember it at all.
“Sometimes I’m afraid when I get my law degree, it’ll have Mom’s name on it instead of mine.”
Wow—I had no idea Sid felt like that.
“You don’t know how hard it is to live up to her expectations,” Sid said, her voice cracking. “It’s a lot of pressure. I’ve… done things I’m not proud of.” She blew her nose. “And the things I’ve done to, um, hurt you, Marigold… well, I wasn’t myself, and I’m sorry.” Then she made a frustrated noise. “Can you even hear me?”
I hear her… and while I appreciate that Sid is sorry for what she did, is she going to make it right?
November 26, Saturday
TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-TWO… Twenty-five thousand one hundred fifty-three… Twenty-five thousand one hundred fifty-four…
The problem is, every bell I count today sounds like a wedding bell.
By my estimation, Duncan’s wedding should be starting soon. The guests will be arriving. I had planned to be there in high spirits and bearing something appropriately unnecessary, like a soup tureen, then dancing at the reception like a fool, just as if I wasn’t brokenhearted to see him marry someone else.
But I don’t even get to do that. Instead I’m lying here with his progeny in my stomach, marinating in misery.
The door swings open and instantly I know it’s Roberta.
“I couldn’t go the wedding,” she announced. “I decided to come and sit with you and read you some funny mail to cheer you up. And I brought some white cupcakes so we could have our own celebration.”
I love this woman.
“But first, there’s something I have to get off my chest, and you’re not going to like it.” She inhaled deeply. “I was the one who took the money I was saving for you in freezer,” she said on a long exhale. “There. But before you hate me, let me tell you why.” She sucked in another deep breath. “I’m a kleptomaniac and I used the money to pay a therapist to cure me. Now you can hate me if you want.”
I can’t hate you, Roberta.
“Although when I described it all to you just now, I saw the irony in stealing money to cure myself of stealing. Okay, I need a cupcake.”
The door burst open and Roberta gasped, choking on her cupcake. “What are you doing here?”
“The right thing,” Duncan said.
Holy matrimony, Duncan is here?
He walked close to my bed.
“Marigold, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I am possessed by you. I was standing in the church today and I felt empty because you weren’t there, standing next to me. I can’t marry Trina. I love you… it’s always been you, I was too dumb to realize it. I can’t stand the thought of you lying in this bed and me not being close by. Whatever happens, I’ll be here. I know the baby’s not mine, but I’ll help you raise it if your family is okay with that. I know I’m rambling, but I’m shaking all over, and I just want to kiss you right now.”
Is this happening? Because I might be hallucinating.
Roberta began to slow clap. “Since Coma Girl is in a coma and can’t answer you, I’m going to answer for her—go on and kiss her, baby. That was a good speech. And I got it all on video so in case she didn’t hear you just now, you can play it for her when she wakes up. I’m taping the kiss, too, just in case she pops up like Sleeping Beauty or something.”
Sadly, I don’t wake up like a Disney character, but I hear Duncan kiss me, and that’s enough for now.
“We have cupcakes to celebrate,” Roberta said. “I’m going to grab a Sprite from the vending machine so we can have us a toast.”
The door opened and closed, but a few seconds later I heard raised voices in the hall—and one of them was Roberta’s.
“What the heck’s going on?” Duncan muttered.
Roberta burst back into the room. “You just try to take this fro
m me, you jackass.”
I’m at a loss, too, as to what’s happening.
“I found the guy who stole the hat from your bedrail, Marigold! He was walking around with the hanging out his back pocket like he’d bought it or something.”
“Hey, my hat,” Duncan said happily. “Where did you find it? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”
November 27, Sunday
TWENTY-SIX THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY-TWO… Twenty-six thousand three hundred seventy-three…
The door swung open, and booted feet sounded on the floor.
“Hi, Marigold, it’s Jack—” He stopped. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No worries,” Duncan said. “Duncan Wheeler.”
“Detective Jack Terry, I’m working Marigold’s case.”
“Great to meet you—can you catch me up?”
“Um… I’m sorry, are you related to Marigold?”
“Not really. She’s having my baby.”
“You don’t say? Well, nice to meet the father of Marigold’s baby. I see you’re a San Antonio Spurs fan.”
“Uh, not really. A man I worked with in Haiti gave it to me. It was his favorite hat and he had no idea what it even said on the front. But I thought the world of him, so I like the hat.”
“Great story. You like barbecue, Duncan?”
“Who doesn’t?’
November 28, Monday
TWENTY-SIX… THOUSAND…. THREE HUNDRED…. SEVENTY…SOMETHING
“This is Sidney Kemp. I’m calling to transfer funds from a money market account for my sister’s foundation into a cash flow account.”
She rattled off an account number—I think. I’m having trouble with those ones and zeroes things today.
“Yes, ten thousand dollars. I’ll hold.”
You know, those things on your phone you push to call people. Num-something. You use them in math.
“That’s impossible,” Sidney said, her voice escalating. “According to my records, the money market account has close to a half a mmmwaahh mwaaaahh”
Something’s wrong… Some…thing’s wr—
“Marigold!”
November 29, Tuesday
ONE… EIGHT… twelve… seven… two… one… one…
“What’s causing the seizures?” Duncan asked.
“We don’t know exactly,” Dr. Tyson said. “But this isn’t good.”
Since I can hear them, I must be between seizures. I’m terrified, but at least Duncan is with me.
“Surely there’s something that can be done?” Duncan said.”
“We’re going to watch her through the night. If the seizures get worse, we’ll need to deliver the baby by cesarean.”
“And what about Marigold?”
“We’ll do everything we can,” Dr. Tyson said, her voice grim.
The Russian bell music ended abruptly. Dr. Jarvis has given up on me.
“I’m here, Marigold,” Duncan whispers in my ear. “I didn’t like that terrible music anyway. How’s this?”
A lullaby begins to play. I’m instantly calmer.
But I’m slipping…. away…
November 30, Wednesday
CAT… PINK… shoe… shoe… shoe…
“The seizures are getting worse…. prepping a surgical suite to deliver the baby by C-section… need to prepare yourselves…very sorry.”
So this is it. I’m dying. The doctors hit it just right—I’ve lived just long enough to deliver the baby. That I’m so happy about.
And I had ten minutes of happiness with Duncan, which is a gift. And just knowing he will be here to raise our child will allow me to die in peace.
My family is around me, I can feel them, can feel their love. Such a shame things were just beginning to gel, and now this. But perhaps it took this to get us to a better place.
I can hear Sydney’s voice. She’s crying.
“Marigold, you can’t die… it’s my fault… driving that night… phone…”
I’m floating… and there is a light, as bright as the sun… I’m hand in hand with a little girl. It’s Sidney… no, it’s my little girl… oh, it’s so beautiful there… I want to go closer…
I’m being pulled through a tunnel, so fast… so fast… roaring in my ears… I can’t resist it…
More, Mar’Gol, more… Can I scooch in, Mar’gol? More, Mar’Gol, more… please?
The light… I can’t… bear… it’s… searing me…
“Marigold?”
“Dr. Tyson, what’s going on?”
“My, God… she’s … awake.”
*****
Don’t miss a single day of COMA GIRL!
You can follow along for free on www.stephaniebond.com,
or if you prefer to read the segments early or all at once,
click here to pre-order COMA GIRL, part 6!
A FREE Coma Girl Coloring Sheet!
Coloring is all the craze! Enthusiasts say it’s fun and even therapeutic—have you tried it yet? This is the fifth of 6 coloring sheets to celebrate the one bit of color in COMA GIRL’s limited world—the scarves Sidney brings to cover Marigold’s head bandages. This one is flower themed. Print the FREE coloring sheet at ComaGirlColoring5 (if you can’t print from your ebook reader, type the URL behind this link into a web browser from any computer) then add your own interpretation with colored pencils, crayons, markers, etc.
And if you’re a social creature, take a picture of your masterpiece and post it to social media with the #ComaGirl hashtag!
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Enjoy!
A note from the author
Thank you so very much for taking the time to read my story COMA GIRL (part 5). I hope you’re still having fun—I’m certainly having fun writing it. This project has been a labor of love for me. I’ve been toying with the idea of a daily serial for some time, and once I decided how to present it, I needed the right story, something that would sustain a daily narrative for an extended period of time.
When I was ten years old, one of my teachers revealed an accident had left her in a coma when she was young. She said she remembered all the conversations around her during that time and when she awoke, astounded doctors and family members by asking them about things they had said while she was “asleep.” At ten, my imagination was just starting to take flight, so I was fascinated by her tale and it stayed with me. Fast forward to when I began a fiction-writing career in the late 1990s. I pitched a romantic comedy about a woman in a coma to a publisher who liked the idea and, subsequently, bought it. But before I could finish writing it, the line closed and the contract was cancelled. I was so disappointed. I had written several chapters of the story and while I loved the concept, it didn’t fit any line I wrote for as my career progressed. So it sat on a shelf for 20 years.
When I was trying to come up with a story that could be told as a daily serial, I remembered the coma story. I had to make a lot of adjustments to the original story, but I’m really happy with the way it turned out—I hope you are, too! And I hope you’ll follow along with all 6 parts of COMA GIRL covering six months in the life of Marigold Kemp as she lies a victim of everyone who visits her hospital room and unloads on her!
Reviews are so important to authors and our books—especially series. Reviews help me to attract new readers so I can keep producing more stories for you. Plus I really want to know if I’m keeping you entertained! If you enjoyed COMA GIRL, part 5, and feel inclined to leave an Amazon review, I would appreciate it very much.
And are you signed up to receive notices of my future book releases? If not, please click here to enter your email address. I promise not to flood you with emails and I will never share or sell your address. And you can unsubscribe at any time.
Also, although I can’t count the times this book has been edited and proofed, I am human, so if you d
o spot a typo, please email me at [email protected] to let me know! Thanks again for your time and interest, and for telling your friends about my books. If you’d like to know more about some of my other books, please scroll ahead to the next section.
Happy reading!
Stephanie Bond
Other works by Stephanie Bond
If you like intrigue, you might try Stephanie’s humorous mystery TWO GUYS DETECTIVE AGENCY, available in ebook, print, and audio!
In TWO GUYS DETECTIVE AGENCY, two estranged sisters (whose last name is Guy) find themselves suddenly husbandless and broke and take on a faltering P.I. agency in a strip mall.
“Great new series! 5 stars! Loved the first book in this new series and am looking forward to reading the second (and hopefully third etc…)” —Kindle reader Patricia L.
“Two Guys is off to a great start! 5 stars! A fast and entertaining read! Can’t wait to see what happens in the next installment!” —Kindle reader S. Carr
“Stephanie Plumesque! 5 stars! Quick, fun read. Very humorous. The “Two Guys” reminded me a lot of Stephanie Plum and Lula! Can’t wait to read what happens in the next book!” —Kindle reader Gretasmom
Click here to download a sample or to order TWO GUYS DETECTIVE AGENCY from Amazon!
*****
And you might like PARTY CRASHERS, a humorous romantic mystery. In PARTY CRASHERS, a woman working the shoe department of a high-end department store for the holidays gets drawn into a group of serial party crashers and winds up implicated in a murder!
“This is one of Stephanie Bond’s best books to date, and her narrative sizzles with just the right blend of sensuality, mystery, and humor. There should be a notice on her books: For a really GOOD time, read Stephanie Bond!” -AOL Romance Fiction Forum
“Suspense, mystery and some humor successfully blend in this intriguing romance.” -Romantic Times Book Reviews
“Bond lays on the laughs with such enthusiasm that “comic suspense” might be a better description [of the book].” -Publishers Weekly
Click here to download a sample or order PARTY CRASHERS from Amazon!
*****
Have you ever thought about writing a novel? If so, this book is for you! In YOUR PERSONAL FICTION-WRITING COACH: 365 Days of Motivation & Tips to Write a Great Book!, Stephanie has assembled 20 years’ worth of writing advice in digestible bites that will ease you through the process of brainstorming, writing, and publishing a novel!
Coma Girl: Part 5 (Kindle Single) Page 6