by Marie Meyer
A heavy gauze bandage covered his right cheek, which led right into the thick bandage wrapped around his head. His right eye was black and swollen. Large, overlapping scratches crossed the length of his chin. Most of the damage was to the right side of his body—if I had to guess, it looked like when he’d been thrown from his bike he’d slid across the pavement. Even his right arm was wrapped up tightly.
Mrs. Daniels flew to his left side. She kissed his cheek and nuzzled his face with hers. “Oh, baby,” she cried. Her tears left shiny streaks of wetness on his face; I expected him to wipe them away and groan over his mother’s fussing.
He didn’t.
Her tears remained on his cheeks.
Ren stood behind her mom and Mr. Daniels pulled up a chair to his son’s right side. I suddenly didn’t feel like I belonged. Where did I fit in to this picture? There was no room for me. I shuffled back toward the wall; its strength held me up.
“Jillian, get over here,” Mr. Daniels commanded, holding his hand out to me. He patted the bed, calling me over.
I shuffled from the shadowed wall toward Griffin.
“That’s it,” Mr. Daniels coaxed. “Let him know you’re here. He needs his Jillibean right now.”
Once I was within Mr. Daniels’s grasp, he planted me on the edge of Griffin’s bed. “If anybody can pull him through this, it’s you.”
I turned my head and stared at Griffin. The tips of his fingers weren’t covered by gauze, and begged to be held. The second my fingers came into contact with his, a jolt of electricity surged between us. I felt it so acutely I knew he had to have, too. I grabbed his hand, and there was no way in hell I was letting go. His hand wasn’t enough. I needed to hold him. Transfer my strength to him somehow.
I didn’t care that his family was in the room. I turned on my side and slipped my body right next to his, stretching out on the bed next to him. Mrs. Daniels was still bent over Griffin’s left side in a silent vigil. Bill rested his hand on my shoulder, keeping me from rolling off the bed, and Ren pulled up a chair at the foot of Griffin’s bed. None of us spoke.
I prayed. Over and over and over again, I prayed, “Dear Lord, please…”
I closed my eyes and breathed him in. He smelled sterile, like the hospital, but somewhere beneath the antiseptic tang was him…my Griffin…like wind and leather. Yep, beneath all the hospital garb, my Griffin was still there.
Moments later a nurse came to the door. “I’m sorry, but it’s time to leave. Mr. Daniels needs his rest,” she said quietly, waiting for us to follow her directive.
My eyes opened at her command. I had no intention of removing myself from his side. “I’m not leaving,” I said.
“Candace, Ren, let’s give Jillian and Griffin a minute,” Bill said quietly.
Mrs. Daniels looked from Griffin to me, our gazes connecting. She smiled and kissed his cheek again. “Rest now, sweet boy. Hang in there.” Mrs. Daniels stood and ran her hand down his cheek. She turned her eyes to me again. “It’s been a long time in the making; it’s good to see you two like this. He’s waited a long time for you, Jillian. He’ll come back.”
Mrs. Daniels stepped away, and Ren moved over and kissed her brother’s cheek. “Take care of him, Jillian,” Ren whispered.
I nodded. “I will.”
“Miss, visiting hours are over,” the nurse insisted. Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew she was talking to me.
“Ma’am,” I heard Mr. Daniels say. “I’d really like her to stay with my son. Trust me; she’s better than any medicine you can give him.”
“Sir, I really can’t allow that,” she said, annoyed.
“I don’t want him alone. She stays.” Mr. Daniels’s voice instantly transitioned to football coach mode.
“Yes, sir,” she acquiesced. She stepped around the bed and glared at me, hating that I’d won the battle. “Miss, I am going to need you to stand up for a moment. I need to check his dressings.”
Before I lowered my feet to the ground, I glanced at her name tag: Sheila. Sheila needed to work on her bedside manner. As slowly as I could, I slid from the bed. Sheila gave me a stiff smile and smoothed the wrinkles my body had left on the sheets. I sat down in the chair Mr. Daniels had vacated and waited for Sheila to finish.
“We’ll be in the waiting room, Jillian,” Mr. Daniels said, squeezing my shoulder.
“I’ll come get you if anything changes.” I put my hand on top of his and looked over my shoulder.
Mrs. Daniels, Ren, and Mr. Daniels left the room. Now it was just me, Griffin, and the ever-pleasant Nurse Sheila. She flitted around the room checking monitors, copying numbers onto Griffin’s chart, and double- and triple-checking his dressings. When she felt she’d poked and prodded him sufficiently, she left.
Now we were finally alone.
I reclaimed my perch on the bed, gently lifting his arm so I could snuggle up next to him. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. Tears slid down my cheeks and seeped into Griffin’s hospital gown.
I tilted my head up so I could look at him. “Hey, Griff,” I said, brushing my fingers over the few strands of hair that weren’t bandaged. “You won’t believe how I got here.” I let my fingers trail down his cheek, over the bruises and scratches. “I flew. I got on a plane, and I made it here…to you.” A despondent laugh escaped my mouth. I watched his face intently, hoping that the monumental fear I’d overcome would be enough to wake him up. But it wasn’t.
I cupped his bristly chin in my hand and prayed. “Dear God, please let him be okay. Please!” I begged. Sobs wracked my body. I tried to hold them inside, but I didn’t have the strength. “Griffin Daniels, you can’t do this to me!” I clung to him, burying my face in the hollow of his neck, breathing him in. The sterile odor of the operating room lingered his skin, making my stomach roll. I pulled back, expecting him to thwart my efforts and hold me to his chest. He didn’t do that this time. This time I was on my own to find comfort.
“I need you, Griffin.” I lay my head back down on his chest, needing the comfort of his heartbeat. “What about your promise? What about our happy future together?” I shifted, getting a better look at his face. “You’ve never broken your promises to me, Griffin. Don’t you dare start now.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Griffin?” Even though my eyes were open I still couldn’t figure out where I was. “Griffin?” I called again, a little louder this time. My throat hurt.
“Shhh, Bean. I’m here.”I felt a warm hand brush over mine.
Griffin’s head pulled away from the shadows and he leaned forward, hovering close to my face. A moment ago I hadn’t been able to feel anything, but now I did. His strong fingers latched onto my hand and refused to let go.
“Where am I?” I asked groggily. I felt so weak.
“The hospital,” he answered softly.
I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. “Why?”
With his free hand, he brushed my forehead and down the side of my face. “You don’t remember?”
I barely shook my head. It was so heavy.
Even in the dimly lit room, Griffin’s dark eyes pulled me in, commanded my attention. But for some reason, they glistened with sadness. Their usually dark chocolate warmth was gone, completely devoured by sorrow and worry.
“Jillibean.” He whispered my nickname reverently, like a prayer. “I almost lost you.”
“Huh?” My voice caught in my throat.
Griffin let go of my hand, moving his fingers up my arm. I felt safe and secure with his fingers connected to me, but then all of a sudden they vanished. I couldn’t feel him anymore. I looked down to see why he’d stopped touching me, and that’s when I saw that he hadn’t. His hand was still anchored to me. But the thick bandages wrapped around my arm, from my shoulder to my elbow, hindered my brain from registering his grounding touch.
I lifted my arm, trying to understand what had happened. Alarm happened. Every memory came flooding back.
“Griffin,” I cried out, begging for him to help me. I knew he would. I knew he’d understand.
“I’m here, Bean.” His hand latched back onto mine and squeezed tightly.
“They’re too strong,” I whimpered. I accepted defeat. The voices had won. I needed help. “I can’t stop.” I stared at the bandage in horror.
“Jillian, look at me,” he commanded.
I turned my face and met his eyes. “It’s over, Jillian. I won’t let you hurt yourself anymore.”
“How do I stop hurting?” I asked.
“What hurts, Jillibean?” He ran his hand over my head. “I’ll make it stop.”
“Promise?” I whispered.
“If you tell me what hurts, I’ll make it stop. Forever.”
I believed him. I didn’t have the strength not to. I nodded, my eyes growing heavy.
Griffin’s thumb drew circles over the back of my hand. “Jillian, I’ve never been so scared. I thought I was going to lose my best friend.” I knew I should say something, ease his sadness and grief, but the heavy weight of sleep pressed close. I tried to stay awake, tried to focus on his moving lips—the words. “I thought I’d never get a chance to say all the things I’ve wanted to say,” he continued.
“I’m so tired, Griff—” Sleep quieted my lips.
“No, Jillian,” he said. “I lov—”
Sleep won.
“Sweetie, wake up.”
A soft whisper played at my ear, and I stirred. “Hmmm….”
“Jillian, sweetie. Wake up.” Mrs. Daniels brushed my hair back and smiled down at me.
“Wha…what time…” I sat up, stretching.
“It’s early. About five in the morning.”
I looked at Griffin, hoping and wishing for some change. “Anything?” I asked Mrs. Daniels.
“No.” Her discouraged sigh hung in the air. “Bill and I talked to the doctor. His surgery went very well and the swelling is subsiding. They’re going to start reducing his medication, and hopefully he’ll wake up soon.” She tried to smile and thought better of it, afraid to let herself hope too much.
“Really?” Fear and excitement bubbled up inside of me at the same time. I feared that hope too, but I knew Griffin didn’t. He never gave up hope on me…I wouldn’t give up on him.
“Really,” she said, patting my shoulder. “Honey, why don’t you run home for a little while?” Mrs. Daniels suggested.
“Uh-uh. I’m not leaving him.” I shook my head vehemently. I refused to leave his side.
“Sweetie, Dr. Adler’s fairly certain that he won’t wake up until all the medication is out of his system. You can make a quick trip over to our house, or Griffin’s apartment. Clean yourself up, change your clothes; it’ll make you feel better.” She watered the flowers that sat on the table beside his bed.
I didn’t want to hear her. I shook my head, adamant against leaving him.
“Please? You have to take care of yourself. You have to stay strong for him. Go. Get cleaned up,” she demanded.
I listened to her plead with me. I looked down at the rumpled clothes I’d worn for two days, and a shower didn’t sound half bad. “What if he wakes up and I’m not here?” I asked.
“If I know my son, he won’t wake up until you return. He’ll wait for you.” She winked at me and smiled.
I slid my legs from the bed and stood up. “Okay. I’ll hurry.” I looked down at him sleeping peacefully. The swelling in his face had gone down and he looked more like himself. I leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I’ll be right back, Griff.” I placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I LOVE you.”
* * *
Mr. and Mrs. Daniels let me borrow their rental car, so I wouldn’t have to take a cab back to Griffin’s apartment. Being in Griffin’s home felt more right than any part of the nightmare I’d lived for the last two days.
I showered in record time and dressed even faster. I pulled clean clothes from my suitcase and twisted my hair into a wet bun. I felt ready to fight; ready to help Griffin fight. I recalled my first couple of sessions with Dr. Hoffman, right after my accident.
Even though I knew I needed help, I wasn’t ready to face my past. I was so angry with Griffin every time he drove me to her office. But he took my anger in stride. He ignored the vile words I spat at him, overlooked my childish temper tantrums. He looked me in the eye and said, “You’re one hell of a fighter, Jillibean. And I’m going to be here to make sure you keep fighting.”
I shook off the memory, with Griffin’s voice still echoing in my head. He was a fighter, too. He was going to pull through this.
Before I left, I checked in with Chandra and Sarah. I was sure they were going out of their minds. I pressed Sarah’s name on my phone and let it ring.
By the time I got to the bottom of the steps, Sarah answered. “Jillian? Jesus, what’s going on? We’ve been going crazy since you left.”
“Is Chandra there?” I asked, noticing the plural.
“Yeah, she’s here. We wanted to stay together, in case you called,” Sarah informed me.
I pulled a bottle of water from Griffin’s refrigerator and grabbed the keys from the counter. “I’m glad you weren’t alone,” I said.
“How is he?” Sarah asked.
I uncapped the bottle and took a drink, swallowing. “He hasn’t come out of the coma yet. We’re just waiting.”
“Oh.” Optimism whooshed out of her like a deflating balloon.
“Sarah,” I said. “Will you put Chandra on?”
“Sure.”
I heard the phone being shuffled around, then Chandra’s voice. “Jillian?”
“Hey, Chandra. I’m not going to be back before the end of the semester.” I said with a sigh.
“I’ve already taken care of it, Jillian. I was on the phone for most of the day yesterday, but I got a hold of all your professors. They’ve all agreed to give you an extension to finish your projects and finals.”
“What?” I screeched and nearly dropped my water bottle.
“It’s all good. Take care of Griffin. Get him better, then you can worry about school,” Chandra said.
“What about the Spring Showcase?” I stammered.
“Professor Vine agreed to let me show your line. She said you’d receive a deduction in your grade, but it’s better than an incomplete.”
“But I’m not finished with that last dress.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll finish it.” I could hear the insistence in her voice.
“Chandra, I don’t know what to say.”
“Jillian, we got things covered here.” Sarah said, coming back on the line.
“Thank you,” was all I could think to say.
* * *
I lay beside Griffin, watching the rain bead up on the window. The trees in the parking lot swayed back and forth, tossed by the howling wind. Streaks of lightning flashed across the sky and thunder crashed, but Griffin’s room was quiet. After three weeks, the noisy machine that breathed for him had been disconnected. Griffin’s body was healing, and he’d mumble things every now and then, but he hadn’t regained consciousness. I hated waiting in the quiet—it felt louder than the raging storm outside. Every time a clap of thunder sounded, I’d look at Griffin’s face, wanting his eyes to open. When they didn’t, I prayed the next clash would be louder…loud enough to wake him up. I was thankful for the storm; it drowned out the silence.
My phone vibrated on the bedside table. I looked away from the window and reached for it, seeing a picture of a well-lit catwalk, and Sarah’s name printed at the top of the message.
The Spring Showcase had started.
In the picture, Chandra stood off to the side of the stage as her model walked the catwalk wearing a vanilla-colored, tailored suit. Chandra smiled, but looked nervous.
I quickly sent a text back and told Sarah to k
eep them coming.
“The show’s started, Griff.” I held my phone up to his sleeping eyes. “Chandra looks scared to death even though her designs are flawless.”
I was curled up next to him, showing him the pictures and updates from both Sarah and Chandra.
You’re about to go on, Jill. Chandra texted.
YIKES! I wrote back.
Hey, did I ever tell you how pleasant Tina is? She’s a real “Diamond in the Rough.” Chandra joked.
I quickly typed back my response. She’s something…but from my experience, it doesn’t sparkle…it stinks.
Chandra responded, Oh, you’re right. I stand corrected. Gotta go. You’re up!
“It’s my turn, Griff,” I said excitedly. Even though I wasn’t physically there, I still felt a little rush of adrenaline.
Sarah sent picture after picture. I felt like I was right in the mix.
Lightning lit up the room as I typed my last text to Chandra. My portion of the show was complete. Thank you, Chandra. I silenced my phone and laid it on the table, at peace with that part of my life. Now I just needed peace here. I reached over to the small table, beside Griffin’s bed and grabbed the frames he’d given me for my birthday.
Snuggling back down beside him, I stared at my parents’ images, running my finger over the smooth glass covering. I wasn’t afraid to look at them anymore. Mom had been right…we were a part of each other. By keeping their memory stuffed in a drawer for so many years, I’d done the same thing to myself. I’d sealed away my heart, forfeiting any chance at happiness. Dr. Hoffman had once asked me if happiness was worth taking risks for. Looking up at Griffin, still uncertain of what the future held, I knew I’d risk my heart a zillion times over for just a moment of happiness with him.
I smiled, shuffling the frames, placing the one of Griffin and me on top. I traced the etching. I wanted my promise.
Over and over again, I ran my finger across those seven letters until my eyes grew heavy. I clutched both frames to my chest, resting them between Griffin and me. The storm outside had passed, and now all I could hear was the light rain pattering on the window. It lulled me to sleep.