I feel something resembling a chinstrap beneath my jaw. When I reach up to check, I find an oxygen tube wrapped behind my ears, feeding me fresh oxygen with every breath. I look down and discover an I.V. line in the crook of my elbow. My clothes are removed, leaving me in nothing but a hospital gown. When did all this happen? Why don’t I remember?
“What happened?” I whisper.
Evan frowns. “You’re in the hospital. You have the flu, smoke inhalation, and you went into shock. You’ve been sleeping for a day and a half. Do you remember any of it?” he asks.
I nod my head. There are all kinds of wires attached to me. I try to move, but it’s a tangled mess. Evan sees me struggle and stops me. “Wait, let me get the nurse.” He reaches over and presses the buzzer.
Instantly, in walks a nurse wearing a friendly smile and a carrying a tote filled with all sorts of bandages, gauze, tubes, and other medical supplies. “Well, look who decided to wake up.” She reminds me a little of my mother. She’s in her mid-fifties with short blonde hair and a round face. “My name is Susan and I’m your nurse.” She starts looking at the numbers on the machines surrounding me and makes notes in my chart. She asks me what my name is, and when I successfully answer, she follows with another, “Do you know what day it is?”
I look at her with a blank stare.
“Okay, let’s try a different question. Do you know where you are?”
Relieved that I know that one, I answer, “Yes. I’m in the hospital.”
Susan smiles. “That’s great. Do you know why you’re here today?”
I have to think about that one. “House fire,” I answer, my voice barely audible.
“Very good, Juliette. Your vitals are strong. I’m going to remove some of the monitoring devices now.” She takes off the blood pressure cuff and the heart monitors. I try to remove the oxygen, but she won’t allow it. “Not yet. Your O2 levels are just starting to stabilize. A few more hours and we should be able to remove that, too.”
She asks Evan to step out as she removes the catheter and helps me to the bathroom. My legs are weak; it feels like I’m trying to walk on spaghetti rather than bone and muscle. But Susan supports my weight as I feebly try to walk.
Once I’m safely tucked back into bed, she signals for Evan to return. And when he does, he brings my mother and his with him. He stands back and watches with a grin as these two women fuss over me and plant kisses all over my face.
They pepper me with questions. “How are you?” “What do you remember?” “Are you in pain?” “Can you tell me what happened?” “Do you know how worried we’ve been?”
I give a few monosyllabic answers. “Good.” “Umm.” “No.” “Yes.” “I know.” It’s a struggle for me to keep up with the conversation when all I can think about is Evan. My last thoughts were of him, wondering if I would ever see him again, and hoping I told him enough how much I love him. As I watch him standing there, I start to notice things about him. He hasn’t shaved in days, his hair is a mess, and his clothes are beyond wrinkled. There are dark circles under his eyes and it looks like he hasn’t eaten or slept in days. He looks haunted and exhausted.
Now that I’m free of tubes and wires, all I want to do is feel his arms wrapped tightly around me. Jill and my mother each take a seat in one of the guest chairs, now chatting with one another about how relieved they feel and how good I look, “considering”.
I gather all the strength I have into one movement, and I shift my body to one side of the bed, leaving a fairly large vacant spot beside me. I pat the empty space and beg, “Please.”
Evan nods and for a brief moment, I think I see a hint of a sparkle returning to his beautiful blue eyes. He climbs into bed with me and I snuggle up to him. Our bodies know each other so well. With no effort or struggle, we find immediate comfort and relief. Instinctively, I wrap one leg and one arm around him as he buries his nose in my long hair.
I put my hand on his chest, and when I look down, I stop breathing. My left hand is empty. My ring is gone. I hold my hand up and examine it more closely, hoping that I’m wrong.
“Looking for this?” Evan asks. He pulls a necklace loose from beneath his crumpled shirt, revealing my engagement ring dangling on a gold chain. He slips the chain over his head, opens the clasp, and removes the ring. He takes my hand in his and slips the ring back on where it belongs. “They took this from you when you arrived. I wanted to keep it safe. They wouldn’t let me in here to see you for hours and I wanted a part of you with me.”
For the first time since I heard the fire alarm sound, I cry. I don’t need to be brave or strong. There’s nothing left to be afraid of. I allow the emotions to take hold and flow, unbidden. Evan holds me as I cry for what feels like an hour. All the emotions that I felt come flooding back in waves, packed so closely together, I cannot tell them apart.
The first to come back to me are the physical pains. They come back so strongly, I can barely stand it. I recall the agony of fighting to breathe and struggling for each step, afraid that the poisonous smoke would kill me faster than the flames. The searing pain of grabbing the doorknob comes rushing back. Through the veil of tears, I look at my right hand and inspect it for wounds. It seems tender and sore, but not what I expected.
Evan tries to comfort me, but all it does is bring on more sobs. Do I tell him that my final thoughts were of him? Relief that he was safely away from the danger and fear that I would never again be able to tell him how much I love him. I recall the grief I felt as morbid thoughts crept into my mind. It is nearly insufferable. My friends, my family, and Maddy come to me in my thoughts and I cry harder knowing that I’ll get to see them all again, soon. That my last visit with them wasn’t my last.
Then my tears turn to anger and frustration. The unfairness and cruelty of it all slam into me. I remember breaking the window and inviting the fire into our home, the home that we share. I don’t know what happened when I opened the door, but I can imagine the fire rushing inside, engulfing our beautiful home in its destructive effects. The tree we planted together that greeted me each time I came home is now forever gone. I cry from loss and I cry in rage.
Eventually, the tears subside. When I look up at Evan, he’s crying right along with me. How terrifying it must have been for him. How did he find out about the fire? What has he been doing for the day and a half I’ve been asleep? The last thing I wanted was to bring him even a portion of the pain that I had felt. And yet, that’s exactly what I did. Not intentionally, but just as regrettably.
What a sight the two of us must be.
I must have fallen asleep again, because when I wake, my mother and Jill are gone and there’s an empty spot in the bed next to me. I rub the sleep from my eyes and scan the room looking for Evan. I know he can’t be far.
I hear him before I see him. I hear his laugh just outside my door and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. He’s not alone. There’s someone with him. It’s a male voice and I wonder who it might be.
When Evan steps back into my room, I see the face of someone I was hoping to see. It’s Adam. He lifts an arm to pat Evan on the back and I see bandages wrapped tightly around both arms.
Evan smiles when he sees me, “I found someone who wants to check in on you. Are you up for a visitor?”
Adam looks at me cautiously.
“You better believe it,” I answer. Adam takes a few tentative steps into my room and sits in the empty chair at the foot of my bed. “Get your ass over here,” I demand, my voice not as strong as I would like, but the attitude is unmistakable. “I need to give you a proper thank you.”
He leans over me for a friendly hug, and I reciprocate without letting go. Rocking back and forth and muttering in his ear over and over again, I thank him. If I hadn’t gotten out when I did, the smoke would surely have ended it all. If I hadn’t wrapped myself in that blanket, the flames would have attached themselves to me. If he wasn’t there to encourage me, I would have been paralyzed with fear and i
ndecision.
He offers a quiet, “I know,” and no more words are needed. His past actions. Our cross words. The river of regret that flows between us is gone, replaced by a bond stronger than I could have ever imagined.
When I finally allow Adam to move away from me, I can’t help but stare at the bandages covering both his arms. My throat is still scratchy from the acidic smoke and my lungs still ache from the flu, but I need to know. I struggle to get the words out.
“Adam, what happened to your arms?” I ask softly.
He hesitates, but explains. “Well, when the front door opened and you jumped out, it created a billowing effect and the flames shot out in all directions.” A few tears fall from my eyes. I’m so sorry this happened to him. I’m so sorry it happened to both of us. But I’m so glad he was there for me. “Don’t feel bad. I didn’t feel a thing. I didn’t even realize it happened until the EMT’s started cleaning me up. I guess it was the adrenaline.”
“Is it bad?” I whisper.
“No, not too bad. Mostly first and some second degree burns. Should heal pretty quickly, especially if Emmy keeps changing my bandages every hour around the clock.”
I can’t help but wonder. “Adam, speaking of clocks, why were you at our house so late at night? I’m not even sure what time the fire started but I know it was after dark.”
Adam clarifies. “I couldn’t leave the office until kick-off. As player liaison, my job doesn’t end until the last member of the team gets to the stadium. I stayed until Mac made the first TD, and then I left and drove straight to the beach house to return Mac’s personal belongings. I figure I got to your place sometime around nine thirty or ten o’clock.”
“Oh, yeah. The game.” I turn to Evan and ask, “Did you win?”
“Yes. We won. 28 to 10. Juliette, it kills me to know that while I was celebrating on the field, you were fighting for your life. How could I have not known? It never should have happened. If someone was there with you or if more people knew you were home, this never would have ...” his voice trails off.
“How did you ... find out?” I ask Evan.
“When I couldn’t get you on the phone after the game, I got scared and called Emmy. She wouldn’t tell me anything, and I could tell something was wrong. No one would take my calls or tell me anything. The whole flight home was pure torture. When I got off the plane, Marcus and Derek were waiting for me. Derek took the Kia home and Marcus drove me straight to the hospital. The doctors wouldn’t let me see you until you were stable.” I can see the pain in his eyes.
“When is the last time you slept?” I wonder.
“I’ve taken a few naps on and off right there.” He points to a lumpy looking chair in the corner of the room. There’s a pillow and a blanket tossed behind it.
“I’ve been trying to convince Mac to get some sleep, but he wouldn’t leave your side,” Adam explains.
“It’s nice to see the two of you bickering again,” I happily observe.
Adam smiles and admits, “I deserved what I got. Mac had every right to freak out. I thought I was helping him. All he ever wanted was to play football. Nothing else mattered. That all changed when you arrived. Now that I have Emmy, I understand what that’s like. I screwed up. And Jette, I didn’t mean what I said. Emmy and I were having some problems and I took it out on you. I hope you’ll forgive me, too.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I tell him, smiling broadly.
Evan gives Adam a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He says nothing, but the broad smile etched across his face tells me everything I need to know. Evan and Adam have mended fences. I’m sorry for the circumstances, but I’m glad for the outcome.
It takes some convincing, but Adam persuades Evan to go back to his place for a shower, some clean clothes, and a little sleep.
The next two days are a flurry of activity. I am never without company for very long. Flowers of every imaginable color and type fill my room. Friends and family take turns visiting.
On Monday, Emmy, Reese, and Camilla arrive with bags full of clothes. Each of them was given the task of getting one week’s worth of clothing for me. Everything Evan and I own smells like smoke.
Reese was put in charge of choosing clothes for socializing in. Her bag is filled with jeans, dresses, skirts, and sweaters. And of course, there’s a different pair of shoes to go with each outfit.
Camilla was given the task of buying me some comfy clothes to hang around the house in. Her bag has shorts, yoga pants, t-shirts, and hoodies. I think this bag is my favorite.
Then there’s Emmy. She put herself in charge of all my unmentionables – thongs, panties, bras, and lingerie. I’ve been to Victoria’s Secret with Emmy before, and I know her taste. I’ll look through her bag later, when I’m alone.
Evan’s team has been amazing through it all. The wives all got together and sent me perfume, hair products, the most expensive make-up I’ve ever owned, and all the lotions, scrubs, and gels a girl could ever need. They even thought to replace hairbrushes, my blow dryer and flatiron.
The minute the girls leave, I scurry into the shower and change into normal clothes. No more hospital gowns and slipper socks for this girl. The minute I’m done, I begin to feel human again.
Each day I’m feeling better and stronger. At my insistence, Evan returns to practice on Tuesday in order to gear up for Saturday’s home game against Jacksonville. At this rate, I should be well enough to go to the game.
With Adam recuperating from his own injuries and back on Evan’s payroll, he’s able to oversee and manage the repairs and cleaning going on at the beach house. He called the designer that decorated the home, and she’s working with a restoration company to save what can be cleaned and replace everything that can’t.
Wednesday is my discharge day. I get to leave, but I won’t be going home. The estimates are that we may be able to return around Labor Day. Meanwhile, Auggie has located a furnished home on the Manasquan River for us to rent for a month. It’s not the same as an ocean view, but I don’t care. I cannot wait to sleep in the same bed with my fiancé. It doesn’t matter where we sleep. A house is just a house. A family makes it a home.
Evan stayed home from practice to take me to our temporary home. Once all the papers are signed and the hospital band is cut from my wrist, I begin to get excited. Evan walks me to the hospital entrance and Adam is waiting for us in his black Lexus SUV. There are two photographers camped out on the off chance that they will catch Evan and me leaving the hospital. It’s their lucky day. They shoot questions at both of us, hoping to get a statement, but my chivalrous fiancé simply wraps a protective arm around me and ushers me to the back seat of the SUV.
On the way home, I beg Evan and Adam to bring me to the beach house. I need to see it in its current state. Adam pulls up and it’s worse than I had imagined. The property is surrounded by death and destruction. Trees, bushes, flowers, all burned to a crisp. The front window is missing and it’s temporarily replaced by plastic. None of us makes a move to get out of the car.
“Do you want to go look around?” Evan asks. I shrug my shoulders, again torn with indecisiveness.
“I see the interior designer’s car is here,” Adam adds. “I could introduce you if you like.”
Reluctantly, I accept the offer and the three of us trudge wearily towards the house. Evan opens the door, which is charred and burned.
The moment I see the devastation, I’m immediately regretting my decision. The ceilings are soot-filled, completely black and buckled. As bad as things look, the smell is even worse. Any sense can trigger a memory, an image, a sound, a taste, but the most powerful trigger for me is smell. Taking in the smell of smoke and ash transports me right back to the night of the fire. My heart speeds up and it’s difficult for me to calm myself down. Evan senses my discomfort and puts a tender arm around me. Its calming effect is immediate.
We make our way to the bedroom where Evan and I collect a few personal items like wallets and jewelry. Nea
rly everything in this room will need to be replaced, hopelessly enveloped in the pungent stench of smoke and fire.
As we make our way around the home, a young woman in her early thirties approaches. Her skin is a beautiful dark-tone and her hair is long and straight. She has a bright engaging smile and she’s full of energy. Adam introduces her as Tanya and I immediately like her.
“So, I finally get to meet the woman who captured the heart of my favorite client.” She puts her hand out and we shake hands. She’s got a confident handshake. “So tell me, Ms. Fletcher, what do you have in mind?”
“I loved everything about the house. It’s the place where Evan and I met and fell in love. I really don’t want to make any major changes. Maybe just a few small touches to show that a woman lives here, too?”
“Okay, that’s easy enough to do. We’ll stick with the plan on the major pieces and add a few accent pieces and artwork to soften the edges. How does that sound?” I’m so glad she gets me.
“Perfect. There is one change I’d like to make outside to the deck if it’s not too much trouble,” I ask.
“Oh, good, a challenge. I love a design challenge. What do you have in mind?” Tanya asks.
“I’ve always wanted to have a hot tub spa. You know, a Jacuzzi. Now that Evan’s playing in more games, I think it would really help his sore muscles. Besides,” I squeeze his hand, “it’s very romantic.” I turn to Evan to seek his approval. “What do you say, chief?”
“I think if we’re going to have a hot tub on the deck, you better design some sort of privacy enclosure because I can think of a dozen things I’d like to do in my new hot tub, and none of them are for public viewing.”
As we’re pulling away, I find myself smiling. I’m glad I found the courage to go in.
Adam pulls into the circular driveway of a beautiful Craftsman style home. There is a two-car garage on the side of the house with my Kia parked in the driveway. He hands Evan the keys and helps carry my bags inside. After placing them on the floor in the foyer, he gives me a hug, Evan gets a handshake, and off he goes. For the first time in nearly a week, Evan and I are alone. No nosy (but well-meaning) nurses. No visitors. Just us.
Running Home to You (The Running Series) Page 38