by Stacey Grice
Her arms stretched out to grab both of my wrists, holding my arms out a little to inspect me. After a good once-over, she pulled me into a hug, rubbing my back with comforting circles, and for a brief moment, all was right in the world again. I was home.
“You look great,” she declared as she pulled away. “Still got all your parts, thank God. Let’s go inside.”
I followed her into the house, which barely looked any different than it had when I’d last lived there, almost seventeen years prior. It was the same furniture, the same décor, and even the same pictures filled the frames throughout the house.
I paused to look at an eight-by-ten frame on the wall of the entryway housing a photo of Ms. Hattie, Matt, and me huddled together on the day I graduated from high school. I was wearing my cap and gown and they had come to see my commencement ceremony. I remembered that day like it was just last week. It was in May, maybe June, so it was hot as hell. The school I went to was huge, with almost a thousand students just in my graduating class, so we couldn’t have our ceremony in the football stadium like some other local schools did. We had ours in the arena downtown, the same place they held big concerts. With a thousand students all given ten tickets each for friends and family to attend, it was easy to see why a high school football stadium would’ve been insufficient. I remembered Ms. Hattie praising the Lord for overcrowded schools so she could sit through the hell that was a high school graduation ceremony in the air conditioning.
“So what’s on your mind, son?” She was already seated in her chair, a worn recliner in the corner of the living room.
Sitting down on the sofa and settling in, I faced her, hesitant to begin. The thought of what I had possibly—probably—screwed up was painful.
“I met a girl.”
A warm, toothless smile spread across her face.
“A girl? Or the girl?” she challenged.
“The girl, I thought, but I may have ruined all of it.”
Her face tilted in question, prompting me to continue.
“She found out about my past…about prison.” Her face reflected disappointment and pity. “I was going to tell her, honestly. It was just never the right time.”
“It never is, dear.”
“Everything was going so well. How do you interrupt that with an Oh-by-the-way-I-did-this-awful-thing-one-time story?”
Her shoulders slumped, looking defeated for me. “Vaughn, it’s never easy to be honest about your past mistakes, but you’re human. You’re flawed and imperfect. You were young and made an error in judgment that cost a young man his life,” she explained patiently. “And you paid for it.”
“I know. I feel at peace with everything that happened…now, but how do I get her to?”
“She’s human too. I’m sure she’s made mistakes in her life. Just be truthful, always, and genuine. If she can’t accept you for who you are—a good man with a kind heart—well, she doesn’t deserve you.”
I sat, trying to let it all sink in.
“I love her, Ms. Hattie,” I confessed. “I’m so in love with her.”
“I know, son. I can see it in your face, but if she’s not able to—”
“There’s more,” I interrupted. “She’s not just some girl.”
Her look was scrutinizing and she eagerly waited for an explanation. I told her everything. I recounted all the details of my accident that I could remember, filling in details Andie had told me after the fact. I confessed everything—how for years I’d been haunted by the image of her eyes, of parts of her face, and how powerful it was to wake up in the hospital and have them be right in front of me in person.
“THIS is the girl? The girl who helped you that day? The girl you’ve been drawing all these years?”
“YES! That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Not only did I find her, but I’m hopelessly in love with her and I’ve screwed it up.”
“You didn’t find her, Vaughn,” she said with a pause. “Fate did. This is a God thing—I know it.”
I felt myself roll my eyes before I could consciously stop them. Ms. Hattie had always been a faithful woman, raised Southern Baptist and devout to her core. I had never truly believed. It’s hard to believe in a higher power and purpose for yourself when you’ve seen and been through all I had as a child.
“You can doubt it if you want, but you can’t possibly think this is all just coincidence,” she insisted, raising her voice slightly. “Vaughn, don’t you see? This is the textbook definition of fate, or destiny—whatever you want to call it.”
“But how do I save this?”
“You fight!” she yelled.
I was taken aback, as she was never one to lose her cool.
“If I know anything, I know you only get that one true love once. God, life, this world, whatever you want to believe…it doesn’t hand you this kind of love more than once.”
“I feared that. I mean, I know that, I think…but I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Nothing you can say can fix it. There aren’t any magic words.”
“But—”
“You have to show her.” She lowered her legs down, shifting the recliner into its upright position and clicking the footrest into place. “Show her she means everything to you and you’re not going to quit on her. Show her how much you love her by fighting for her. Refuse to let her walk away.”
“What if she walks away anyway?”
“If she chooses to quit, at least you’ll know you gave it your all. You can have some closure from knowing you did everything you could.”
I let that settle in my mind. Fight for her. Show her. Refuse to quit. A burst of energy and vigor flooded my body, and I couldn’t wait another second to see her, to hold her. It had been days of space and too much time already.
“I have to go, Ms. Hattie.”
She smiled, pleased and excited for me.
“Go. Go get her.”
Chapter 50
Vaughn
My blood felt like it was on fire, fueling me to get to Andie’s house as quickly as possible. I had to talk to her and show her I was in this for real and wasn’t going to just walk away.
When her car wasn’t in her driveway, I was overcome with discouragement. The image in my head was stolen away like blowing out a candle: knocking on her door to have her open it for me so I could rush in and take her into my arms, capturing her lips in a kiss like I would never get to kiss her again. Poof—gone.
She had to be at work.
The unease I felt about showing up there was nagging, but I had to try.
Finding parking was a nightmare, and the walk from the garage to the emergency room entrance took forever, nausea creeping into my resolve as I got closer and closer. When the automatic double doors opened for me, I swore my heart rate was over two hundred. I doubted my every move and almost turned around when an employee in scrubs came over to me.
“Sir? Are you okay?”
I couldn’t answer her. Nothing would come out.
“Sir, are you sick?” she asked, taking hold of my arm and nudging me forward to the triage desk. “Here, have a seat.”
I did as she instructed, trying to calm myself down. I probably looked sick—I certainly felt it.
Get a hold of yourself, man. You look insane.
“What’s going on?” the nurse across the desk prompted. “Sir? Are you doing all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry.”
She looked confused. “So, what’s your emergency?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “I don’t have one. I mean, I’m not sick.”
“This is the emergency room, sir.”
“I know, sorry. I’m looking for someone.”
The woman stared at me, widening her eyes impatiently.
“Dr. Fine,” I stated. “Andie Fine. Is she working today?”
“Sir, Dr. Fine doesn’t see patients unless they’re having some sort of emergency and need medical attention.”
“I know. I’m not a patient. I�
��m a…friend.”
She reached over to some sort of walkie-talkie device and brought it up to her mouth.
“Is Dr. Fine available? She has a visitor out here.”
What came through in response was static-filled and unintelligible to me, but the nurse seemed to understand every word.
“She’s here but she’s in surgery. It’s going to be a while.”
“How long is a while, do you think?”
“Not sure. However long it takes, I guess. She’s saving lives, man—that’s what we do here.” I sat back in the seat, unsure of what to do next. “You’re welcome to wait if you want.”
Just then, the double doors opened again and some woman was screaming something in Spanish.
“Ayúdame por favor! Mi abuela no puede respirar!”
“Sir, you gotta move!” the nurse told me sternly.
People came out of nowhere with a wheelchair and helped the woman inside from the car, taking her vital signs as they rolled her in. I retreated to the other side of the waiting room, in awe of how fast everyone worked to help her.
It was obviously busy, the seating area packed with people waiting to be seen and the family members who accompanied them. I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting there when the door opened and Rowan appeared.
“Mr. Lyles?” she yelled across the waiting area, scanning the room for someone to acknowledge her. “Jeffery Lyles?” When her eyes finally got to me, she paused, recognition overtaking her expression and then…a crestfallen look appeared.
When the man she had called reached her, she said something to someone behind the door that I only heard bits and pieces of, presumably asking them to escort Mr. Lyles to a room. Once he was past her, she walked over to me.
“Vaughn, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” I assured her, and relief filled her face. “I came to try to talk to Andie but they said she was in surgery.”
“Well, get in here. You can’t sit out here with all these germs,” she insisted, gesturing for me to follow her. “You can come back here and camp out in our lounge. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
“Thank you so much.”
“How long have you been waiting?” she probed as we walked, annoyed.
“I don’t know…a while now.”
“Freaking Susan. Shit for brains.”
“Who’s Susan?”
“That moron at the triage desk. I don’t even think she told anyone you were here waiting for Andie.”
“Well, I think she got distracted. Someone came in right behind me with an actual emergency.”
“It doesn’t matter. Did she even ask your name?”
“Well…no, I don’t think so.”
“I’m writing her ass up. So over that BS.”
“Rowan, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Andie doesn’t even know I’m coming. We haven’t spoken in a few—well, you probably already know. Maybe I should just come back later.”
I stopped walking and when she sensed that I was no longer following her, she turned around, frustrated.
“No! Listen here, Vaughn—you showed up here for a reason, to talk to her, right? That’s what you need to do. I want my best friend back. She hasn’t been herself since I told her about everything Richard told me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything at all.” She cast her eyes down, clearly doubting herself. “I’m sorry for that. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I don’t know.”
“It’s okay, Rowan. I should’ve told her long before you did,” I lamented. “It’s not an easy thing to bring up.”
“I can imagine. It wasn’t my place, and I overstepped, I think. She’s hurt, pissed at me, and not talking to you. I don’t know what to do.”
“Vaughn?” Looking to my left, I saw Andie coming down the hallway toward us. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to tal—are you okay? You don’t look well.” Her face was pale and there were beads of sweat across her forehead.
Looking a little offended, she jerked her hand up to remove her surgical cap and stood straighter. “I’m fine. I’m working.” She was obviously annoyed by my presence. “It’s not a good time.”
“I know. I’m sorry to bother you here,” I offered, really not liking the way she was looking. “Can we please just go somewhere to talk for a minute?”
“He’s been here for God knows how long, Andie, waiting for you to get out of surgery.” Andie looked at Rowan with fire in her eyes, likely pissed that she was intruding. “Stupid ass Susan didn’t even tell anyone he was here. Give the man a chance.”
“A chance? Now you want me to give him a chance?” she retorted. Just as she finished her question, I thought I saw her sway in her stance, just slightly. She reached out to grab the countertop, steadying herself. “A few days ago, you weren’t singing that same tune.”
“Andie, stop,” she curtly whispered in a hushed tone. “You’re making a scene.”
She glanced around to see a few people in the hallway looking in our direction and stilled herself.
“You,” she commanded, looking right at Rowan. “Butt out.” Rowan lifted her hands up and out in an I-give-up gesture and turned away. “You,” she said looking at my face. “Now is not a good time. You have five minutes.”
She let go of the counter and turned away from me, walking in the opposite direction. I followed after her, feeling a surge of nervousness thrust itself forward again, and then all of a sudden, Andie collapsed right in front of me.
It was like it was in slow motion, her knees buckling beneath her and her entire body folding down. I was able to get behind her just in time to stop her from hitting the floor.
“Rowan!” I screamed, hearing footsteps clamber behind me.
“Oh my God. What happened?” she said as more people came around us to help.
“She just collapsed.”
“Get a stretcher over here!” she shouted.
I carefully released her head and helped lay her out on the floor. She appeared to still be breathing but was sweaty and so pale. I couldn’t do anything but watch as I got pushed out of the way so the professionals could help her.
It all turned into a blur. The sharp smell of ammonia assaulted me as they attempted to wake her up by waving something under her nose. An oxygen mask was placed over her face and she was rolled onto a board so they could lift her onto a stretcher. People were everywhere and I couldn’t see her face. Seconds later, they were wheeling her away from me.
My feet stayed planted, my body frozen in place, unable to move in its shocked state.
What the hell just happened?
Rowan’s voice interrupted my internal thought as she ran up to me.
“Vaughn!” she commanded, snapping me out of my cloudy trance. “I’ll come get you as soon as I can.”
Chapter 51
Vaughn
She looked so frail. She seemed peaceful and serene as she slept in the hospital bed, but somehow more fragile and more vulnerable than I had ever seen her. She obviously needed the rest.
I wasn’t sure if she would want me there or not, sitting at her bedside, but I couldn’t leave, not until she told me to. I would sit and wait there in that uncomfortable hardback chair until her own mouth told me to get out.
Rowan had come and retrieved me from the wretched waiting room about forty-five minutes after she passed out. She told me Andie was awake and doing fine but they were admitting her for observation and running some tests to be sure. She said she was dehydrated, exhausted…words that didn’t sound all that scary, but it had certainly looked more terrifying when she fell to the ground right in front of me.
When I finally was brought back into the room they had admitted her to, she was asleep. Her breathing was calm and rhythmic and her color was much better, but she had tubes coming out of her arm so they could give her fluids. The steady beeping of her heart monitor was comforting, and I knew in my soul she was going to be fine.
> Just outside her room in the hallway, I could hear a man and a woman speaking, seemingly about Andie, and while I knew it wasn’t right to eavesdrop, I couldn’t help myself. Slowly standing as to not make any noise or draw any attention to myself, I made my way over to the doorway and stood on the other side of it, still out of sight.
“Witnessed syncopal episode with a brief loss of consciousness.”
“What did her labs show?”
“Hypoglycemia and ketones in her urine. She’s definitely dehydrated but her kidney function looks okay.”
“Was there any apparent head trauma?”
“No, sir.”
“And no altered mental status when she became responsive?”
“No. Completely normal, sir. She had recently come out of a nine-hour case.”
“I don’t feel the need to do a head CT right now unless something changes, but get her up to a room on four south.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wait, did you get Doppler heart tones?”
“Yeah. I called L and D to see if they could come monitor her but they don’t see anyone up there unless they’re twenty weeks.”
What?
L and D?
Twenty weeks?
Holy shit!
I slowly went back to my seat in disbelief. Maybe I had mistakenly heard them talking about a different patient, not my Andie. She would’ve told me…certainly she would’ve told me.
As my mind reeled in bewilderment trying to make sense of everything, I tried to get a hold of myself. When I looked over at Andie’s face, she was awake, her eyes looking apologetically at mine.
“Oh, thank goodness,” I said as I exhaled, rushing over to her. “You’re okay.”
She stared at me for a moment, not saying anything at first. Then tears started to well up in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Vaughn,” she whispered. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. I should’ve told you before.”
My eyes filled with tears as well and I scooted closer to take her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. Lowering my face down to her arm, I kissed the top of her hand and forearm, not caring about anything else in the world but having her there with me, present, awake, alive.