He was kind of cute stuttering and stammering. It was so incongruous with his outside appearance, which looked liked such a badass. I didn't really remember him, but I could tell he felt very awkward touching me. Frankly, I felt weird too. As much as I desired to be touched and held, I knew he was not the one I wanted to do it.
I straightened up. "That's okay. I'm fine."
He jumped back. "What?"
"I'll be fine. I'm sorry I broke down like that. My emotions are a little wonky right now."
"WHAT?"
"I said I'm sorry I started crying. Jeez, relax, would you?"
"Red, you're talking!"
I looked around. All of the people in the room, including a few nurses were staring. They had probably been watching us sing, but I hadn't noticed. My mouth was open and I shut it quickly. I was afraid the gibberish would come out again.
But it didn't. I could talk again. Sometimes, I couldn't come up with a word that I knew I knew. Sometimes, I meant to say one word but another came out. Like when I meant to say 'nutcracker' but said 'woodpecker' instead. Or when I wanted a Q-tip to clean out my ears but asked for a toothpick instead. The badass Mr. Clean had brought it out of me. I did find out his name was Albert, which was a good thing, because otherwise I was likely to call him Mr. Clean to his face. I somehow did not think it would go over that great. Meghan, my speech therapist, was amazed. My doctors were perplexed. Jillian was ecstatic. I was scared.
I was scared because I still couldn't remember the two months before my head injury. I wasn't sure I'd be able to work. I wouldn't be cleared to drive for a while, seeing as how I'd had my head cut open and all. I guess I was at high risk for seizures, although I wasn't sure if I'd had one or not. I knew that the people at work had taken a collection for me, but I wasn't sure how I was going to make ends meet. I couldn't turn to my family for help. Christ, they hadn't even been in to see me since my initial hospital stay. What was I going to do?
Apparently, I was going to answer question after question from therapist after therapist and doctor after doctor. It was determined that I had what was called retrograde amnesia, which is not uncommon with traumatic brain injuries. The doctor explained this to me as he was spouting on and on about something called the hippocampus, which made me think of a hippopotamus. Then I started thinking about the game Hungry, Hungry Hippos, which then led me to think about how hungry I was and how I really wanted a big fat burrito or something. I realized the doctor was still droning on, and I decided I'd better start paying attention again. I was having trouble concentrating, which I thought might also be a side effect of my brain injury. I focused in again. The doctor did not think my memory in general would be impaired and even thought there was a slight chance I could get my memory back. The whole return of speech thing had everyone a bit stymied, so I guess all bets were off with me. I meant to ask him about the attention thing, but I forgot until well after he was gone. I wrote it down on a piece of paper to ask him another time.
They also wanted to follow me for a while to possibly write a case study on me. They explained that my identity would be protected, yadda, yadda, yadda, and all that good stuff. Meghan was really excited about the use of music in my sudden return of speech. They were still trying to figure out how exactly that happened. One theory they were batting around was that my brain had simply been bruised rather than totally killed off. One doctor started talking about cortical versus subcortical skills and totally lost me. I couldn't wait for these guys to leave so I could think some more about food.
The herd of health care professionals had finally left me for the day. I was exhausted. I just wanted to sleep. It seemed like healing was hard work. My cell phone, which was again charged up (thanks to Jillian), beeped, indicating a text message. It was from a "Kingston Cole" which I guess was that cute doctor who was supposed to be my boyfriend. Damn I wish I could remember him from before the accident. I looked at the text.
"Can I come visit you tonight after my shift?"
I hesitated for a moment. This would be the first time that I would be able to talk to him. I was sure he knew that I didn't know who he was, and I thought it was nice that he was asking for permission to visit. I was also pretty sure he was coming to make sure that I knew we were over. I mean, who wants to date a person who doesn't even remember him?
"Sure."
"Want me to bring food?"
Oh my God, I didn't even know this man but I think I loved him. Hmm ... that was an interesting thought. Did I actually love him? I would have to ponder that one later. He was bringing me food.
"YES!!! PLEASE! The food here is terrible!"
"Any requests? Burgers? Pizza? Meat with a side of meat?"
I smiled. He must really know me and my penchant for meat.
"Would a burrito be possible?"
"Def. How?"
I sent him the specifics and he indicated that he would be over around eight. Then, I started to panic. I looked like shit. I was pale. I had no good makeup or jewelry. My hair was growing in, in tight fuzzy little curls. I did what any sane female would do. I called for reinforcements.
"Esther, you've lost a lot of weight, and you are thinner and taller than me to begin with."
"But Jillian, I don't know who else to call. You've got to have something, right?"
"I may have a dress that I wore a thousand years ago. Shave your legs while I'm on my way over."
We conferred and luckily shared the same shoe size. Jillian was going to hook me up so I could look like a human being. She was bringing the dress and shoes and even some more makeup. I hoped she would get here in time for me to get ready. I disconnected, went out to the nurses' station and requested a razor. It was a crappy one, and I nicked myself about ten times, but having smooth legs made me feel like a woman again. I couldn't wait to be able to dress in nice clothes and finally see my boyfriend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
"Oh, hell, NO!"
"What?"
"Jillian, is this seriously all you brought? I can't wear this!" This was a disaster of epic proportions. There was no way on God's green earth that I was stepping out of the bathroom wearing this. "Give me my yoga pants back."
"Come on Esther, it can't be that bad. I loved that dress. I bet it looks fantastic on you. Just come out and show me."
"I am not coming out."
I stared at myself in the mirror. I could not believe this was my life. Of course this was my life. This was total par for the course with me. But oh how I wished it weren’t.
"C'mon Es, I think I hear him coming down the hall. You can't stay locked in the bathroom forever."
"Yes I can. Just watch."
Jillian was quiet for a minute. Then I heard her talking. I heard the male voice. Shit, he was here. I had to go out and face Kingston. Then I heard Jillian say, "I don't know. She won't come out of the bathroom. Do you think we need to call a nurse?"
"We'll give her a minute," I heard him say. Then he continued, "Was she all right before she went in there?"
There was a pause. Then Jillian said, "Do you think she's, you know, not right from the accident?"
Oh, hell no, they weren't gonna sit there and speculate that I'm not right in the head. I came barging out of the bathroom but skidded to a stop when I saw Kingston standing there. His mouth fell open and hung there for a moment. He snapped it shut and pressed his lips together, obviously trying to hold the laughter back.
I shook my finger at him. "Don't. Don't you even dare."
He clenched his lips even tighter, every muscle in his body tensing.
Holding his gaze with my own death stare, I cautioned him. "I'm warning you. Don't."
Jillian interrupted, "Esther, are you okay?"
I turned on the stacked heel of the black Mary Jane that Jillian had brought. "No, I am not okay. I cannot believe you did this to me!"
Kingston could not hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. I glared at him, and then turned my death stare back to Jillian.
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"What?" she asked helplessly. She honestly didn't see it.
The dress she brought me in theory was a cute dress. It was a fitted, mod style mini-dress with slightly full long sleeves. The problem was it was a red dress with a white pearled peter pan collar. There was a black-trimmed belt that hung low on my waist. And of course, Jillian had paired it with the heeled Mary Janes. On anyone else, it would have looked adorable. However, this was me. With my red curly hair that had been shaved but was now growing back in.
I shook my head and plopped down in the blue plastic chair right outside the bathroom. I buried my head in my hands.
"Oh, don't worry Esther," Kingston finally sputtered out, trying to catch his breath. "Just relax. I'm sure the sun will come out ... tomorrow."
I looked up. "You went there. I warned you, and I can't believe you actually went there."
"Went where?" Jillian looked back and forth between the two of us, completely and totally oblivious. Kingston had tears rolling down his cheeks. I couldn't help it. I started laughing too. Jillian kept looking back and forth at us laughing and asking "What? What?"
Kingston put down the bags with the food on the small dresser next to him and opened his arms. I stood up, smoothed down the skirt and walked into his arms. Even though I didn't remember him, I knew I knew him and I knew I felt comfortable with him. I laid my head on his chest while he enveloped me in his arms. In that moment, I felt safe and loved. I felt, in that moment, that maybe, just maybe everything would be fine.
I looked up at him and smiled. He looked down at me. I had a sudden, urgent need to kiss this man, even though I didn't remember him. My body seemed to, as I melted into him.
"Um guys? I'm still here. Will you please tell me what is going on?"
I broke from Kingston's embrace and turned to face Jillian. I gestured to the outfit. "Does it look at all familiar?"
"I think it looks cute on you. I do not see what the issue was."
"Look closely at the hair."
"Okay."
"Now look at the dress."
"Okay ... still not seeing it."
I sighed. "Never mind."
Kingston nudged me. "She can't see why it's such a hard-knock life."
I elbowed him back. "Stop it."
He couldn't let it go. "Maybe because you're never fully dressed without a smile."
I couldn't hold back, and whacked him.
Jillian, looking uncomfortable, picked up her purse. "Well, I know you two have a lot of catching up to do and a lot to discuss."
Jillian left in a huff and I just had to shake my head. Those not cursed with red curly hair would never understand the lengths to which us redheads went to avoid the dreaded Annie comparison. I wasn't sure what other embarrassing things I'd done in front of Kingston—knowing me there would have been a few—but this had to take the cake. Then I started to panic. I didn't know what embarrassing things I had done. I didn't know anything that I had done with this guy. All I knew was his name and that he knew I liked meat. Okay, so apparently we had eaten together. Crap, this was so not going to work. He was going to dump my ass when he realized what a basket case I was. Too bad, because he's really cute, too.
"Um, Kingston? Can I ask you a few things? I'm sorry but I don't really remember you at all."
He looked uncomfortable. Uh oh, here is comes. The great dumping.
"What did you call me?"
"Kingston. That's your name, right?" Oh sweet Jesus, please let that be his name. Please don't let me have called him by the wrong name.
He smiled. "Why did you call me that?"
Oh fuck me. I called him the wrong name.
"I'm so sorry. That's the name that came up in my phone when you texted me. I don't know why it would be in there. I'm so sorry. I just, I mean, I can't remember and, fuck, I can't believe I've fucked this up." I sank down on my bed in defeat. He was still standing by the door. I laid back and closed my eyes. "Thank you for stopping by. I'm sorry I'm such a basket case. I guess I'll see you around sometime." I covered my face with my hands and waited to hear him leave.
It was quiet for a moment, and then I felt him sit down on the edge of the bed. I couldn't bear to look at him. "No, seriously, why did you call me Kingston?"
"I told you, that was what was in my phone."
"Why was it in your phone that way?"
"I don't know. I don't remember putting it in there. How should it be? Is Kingston your last name? Did I put it in wrong?"
"No, but you never called me Kingston."
"What did I call you then?"
"O.K."
"Okay what? What did I call you?"
He sighed and laid down on the bed, snuggling into me. Holy shit, he was snuggling into me!
"You called me O.K. as in Capital-O-Period-K-Period."
"Why on earth would I call you O.K.?"
He explained the nickname thing. Even though I didn't know the story, I had a weird sense of déjà vu. If I were a betting person, and did not apparently have the worst luck in the world, I would bet that I would be experiencing sensations like this a whole lot from now on. I shifted slightly on the bed and we settled in, lying shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side.
"So, Esther, there's no way to beat around the bush on this one, so I'm going to jump into it. I need you to just hear me out before you get all riled up."
Uh oh, that didn't sound good. I continued staring at the ceiling, but I nodded so that he would know to continue.
"They are looking to discharge you in the next day or two. You can't drive, and I'm worried about you being on your own. They're still not sure how much long-term impact you will have, and you are still healing. Since you are not able to work right now, I think you should come stay with me."
I didn't say anything, just digested what he had said. I knew it was all true. I had very little money. I couldn't drive and I couldn't work. There was a part of me that wanted to be all indignant that this guy who I didn't remember was swooping in, trying to act like a knight in shining armor. On the other hand, there was an even larger part of me that was so terrified to be out in the world again that I was grateful he was making this offer.
Apparently my silence worried him, and he started rambling again. "You know, well maybe you don't know, but I have three bedrooms. You'd have your own room and we'd bring your furniture and stuff over. I work a lot, although I'll cut back if you want. I don't want you to worry about money or anything else. I just want you to get better."
"Okay."
"What? Am I rambling? Sorry, I tend to ramble when I get nervous. I don't know why I'm nervous. This isn't about me; it's about you. But here I am, the nervous one."
I elbowed him and he quieted. "No, I meant okay, I'll stay with you."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
He was quiet for a moment. "That was a lot easier than I thought it would be."
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The next day was my last day in rehab and it was a busy one. Everyone needed to do their final tests on me to see how far I'd come. My right hand was still weak and a bit clumsy, but it was worlds better, and I was determined to stay a righty. I could talk, but had occasional word-finding difficulties. I was having trouble staying focused. I was still tired. And, of course, there was still the amnesia. Kingston (I told him I wanted to call him that because the whole O.K.-okay thing was just too hard for my brain right now) was slowly filling me in on some details, but we hadn't had much time. I guess there would be time for that since I was going to be living with him.
Huh. I couldn't believe I'd agreed to move in with him. It seemed pretty impulsive for me. Other than marrying Dickie Cox, I did not usually fly by the seat of my pants, giving in to whatever whims I might have. Of course, that had been a unique time in my life, as was this. I could only hope that this had a better outcome.
I waved to the last nurse as Kingston walked me to the elevator. We were silent as we rode down to the parking garage. He carried my stuff
and I let him. I followed him to his car and got in as he loaded my bags into the Maxima's trunk. He got in and smiled at me before turning the key in the ignition. I gave him a tense smile back.
"Don't worry, Esther. I'm having your stuff packed up and moved over this weekend. We can store things in the garage for now."
I smiled at him again, hoping it didn't appear as fake as it felt. He was a good guy, I was pretty sure. It was the total chaos of was my life that I was having trouble dealing with. My apartment, crappy as it was, at least had been mine. I would be homeless, jobless and virtually destitute. I was forced to move in with a guy I didn't remember because my own family members had turned their backs on me. That pissed me off more than anything. I had tried calling Charlie after my speech returned, but she never answered or even called back.
"What's wrong?" He could tell my smile was fake.
I could feel the tears welling up. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to be this snively mess. What if he had never seen me cry before? What if he saw how ugly I looked when I cried and decided to dump me on the curb? I balled up my fists and tightened every muscle in my body to keep the tears back. I rocked my head back and forth, unable to speak.
"Are you okay?"
I shook my head again, burying my face in my hands.
"Esther, you've got to calm down. Look at me." His voice was firm and in control. I peeled my hands away from my face and looked at him.
"Is something hurting you?"
I shook my head.
"Are you scared?"
I nodded.
"Of me?" his voice cracked a bit, breaking through his calm demeanor.
I shook my head.
"Then of what?"
I took a deep breath. "Of everything. I have no home and no job. What am I going to do for money? I'm all alone. I have no one besides you, but I don't remember you." My voice was slowly rising into panic mode. "All my stuff is packed up. Everything is spinning out of control and it—" I broke off. I knew what I wanted to say, but couldn't come up with the right word.
I'm Still Here Page 18