Hard Cover

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  Dawn snorted. “You need to get out more.”

  “I tried to get you to come home with me.”

  “Rory, where is this going? I don’t see you taking me to your country club dinners, and I sure as shit am not going to take you to any tattoo parlors or mosh pits.”

  “Well, we do have this business arrangement to finalize.”

  “Oh that.” She sighed.

  “I’m finding, though, that I like mixing business with pleasure.”

  “Look, I’m a little busy here. Why don’t you come by later and we’ll play it by ear.”

  “Is one o’clock a good time?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  By the time the conversation was over I parked in my car outside the nuthouse where they kept my sister. I suppose mental institute was a more politically correct label. And certainly the grounds looked like a country club rather than my memories of where Nurse Ratched practiced in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

  Oh great, now I was acting like my father.

  I closed my eyes and rebooted my brain, taking away the anger, the hateful language, and, well, the fear. I still didn’t want to be here. I wanted to remember Cammy as the girl splashing in the water. I didn’t want to see her looking half dead on a hospital bed or sitting up in a chair looking at me with vacant eyes. I shuddered. Fiddling with the radio, I listened to the DJ rattle on about traffic and the weather, telling myself that I would go in once it was done. Truthfully, I’d rather be anywhere but here.

  The DJ announced sixty minutes of commercial-free music and I was out of excuses. It was an effort to get out of the car, but I forced myself. In the five years Cammy had been here, I only visited a handful of times, and only then in the first year. I was a coward. I couldn’t take it. I was a coward now too. But if she was getting better, I owed it to her to visit and let her know I would be here for her. No matter how uncomfortable I was in this place.

  It’s not about you.

  Was that Dawn’s snarky voice in my head? It certainly wasn’t anyone else I knew. This was about all about me. Cammy wouldn’t be here if I had taken a more active role as her older brother instead of concentrating on getting laid and making money down in Florida. I had done exceedingly well at both, and been terrible at being an older brother.

  “I’m here to see Camilia Parker,” I said to the receptionist. “I’m her brother.”

  She checked my ID and gave me a pass to get to the wing where Cammy had lived these past five years. My stomach turned as I took the elevator up. It was a pleasant place, all chrome and white with soothing lavender scents and calm music. It made me want to claw my face off. The elevator opened to a central room with a nurses’ station in the middle and five corridors leading off to the private suites.

  One of the nurses approached me as I came off the elevator. “Hello, Mr. Parker.”

  “Please, call me Rory.”

  “We’re glad that you’ve come to see your sister. A lot has changed since your last visit.”

  I jammed my fists into the pockets of my khaki pants and wondered if I was imagining the censure in her voice.

  “Your parents haven’t visited at all this year, so we were concerned they weren’t well.”

  “They haven’t? My mother was the one to tell me she’s come out of the—” I waved my hand around. “That she’s more aware.” I wasn’t sure what the technical terms were without delving into the offensive. At the very least, I could try not to do that.

  “Well, it’s not the first time that’s happened.”

  “What?”

  “Why don’t we sit down for a few minutes. I’m limited in what I can discuss, but I think you should be prepared for what you see.”

  “Is my sister all right?”

  “Let’s go to my office.”

  She led me down one of the corridors to a brightly lit office and gestured to a comfortable chair. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  A vodka martini sounded nice about now. “I’m good,” I said, even though I was far from it.

  “What do you remember about your sister’s condition?”

  “After she overdosed on Xanax and heroin, her kidneys and liver failed and she went into a coma. They said she had brain damage. My parents wanted to keep her on life support for as long as it took. They thought she would come out of it. Then she did, and I guess the brain damage was too severe. She couldn’t communicate. Cammy”—I cleared my throat—“couldn’t move without assistance.”

  “She was like that for a few months,” the nurse said. “Then she went back into the unresponsive wakefulness syndrome.”

  That was a mouthful, but it sounded nicer than saying she was a vegetable.

  “I didn’t know this. I knew she sometimes could sit up, but that’s it. My parents don’t really talk about it.”

  The nurse nodded. “Yes. As you can imagine, it was heartbreaking for them to see her struggle. Over the last few years, she would come out of the coma and be able to sit up on her own, speak for a bit.”

  I straightened in my chair. “You’re kidding? I didn’t know she was talking before now. What did she say? Did she ask for anyone?”

  “She still didn’t remember who she was or what had happened to her, but she was showing signs of improvement. Then, a week or two would go by, and without warning, she’d slip back into the unresponsive state, sometimes back into a coma. Sometimes Camilia would just withdraw.”

  “I see,” I said. I now knew why my parents wouldn’t visit as often. My mother couldn’t take the hope of her daughter getting better only to see her return to her coma. My father didn’t have the patience to understand why she wasn’t cured already. “I’m sure you tried many drugs and treatments.”

  The nurse nodded. “We have, and we’ve seen a great improvement in her behavior. This is the longest she’s been awake in five years.”

  My heart thudded in my ears.

  “We’re hoping that it’s permanent this time.”

  “The brain damage, though." My hand was shaking as I pushed the hair off my forehead. "Does she remember who she is?”

  The nurse shook her head. “It’s still early to tell, but we’re hopeful that with time and therapy, she may live a normal life.”

  It was a good thing I was sitting down. “She has a son.”

  “It’s too soon to bring him here. She shouldn’t have more than one visitor a day, but I was hoping I could overstep my boundaries and ask if your parents could come more often. I really think it would help.”

  “I’ll try,” I said. “I’ll be around.” And like that, thoughts of Miami Beach faded. I was here for the summer and I wouldn’t leave until Cammy remembered me.

  “Good. Let me take you to her.”

  I wasn’t sure that my knees would hold me, but I managed to walk down another corridor. The nurse knocked softly. “Camilia, it’s Brenda. Your brother is here to see you.”

  There wasn’t a response, but I hadn’t expected one. I also hadn’t expected to see Cammy sitting up or to turning to look at me. I stopped, rooted in place. There wasn’t any emotion or recognition in her eyes, though.

  “I’ll leave you two alone.” Brenda closed the door behind her.

  “Hi, Cammy. It’s me, Rory.”

  She turned back toward the window. She had a deck of cards in her hands that she spread out on the circular table next to her.

  Moving in closer, I took a seat across the table from her. She had a pretty view of the gardens.

  “Would you like a glass of water?” I asked, and poured her one from the pitcher on the table.

  She didn’t move or respond. What if she was slipping back into the coma right in front of me?

  “Spencer is doing well. He’s five now. Kendrick is a good dad,” I babbled. Fumbling in my wallet, I pulled out a picture. “Here is Spencer on his first day of kindergarten.” I held it out to her, but she didn’t reach for it or even turn her head. “I’ll leave
it here.” I put it on the table and pushed it toward her.

  Trying to control my breathing so I didn’t appear as panicked as I felt, I slouched back into the chair. “Mom and Dad are the same. I’m up from Florida. Maybe for good. I’m doing a project on the docks.”

  Her head turned toward me.

  I froze. That had to be good, right? “We’re bringing in new shops. You’d like them. We’re cleaning up the area.”

  She blinked long and slow.

  “Can you talk? Blink once for yes and twice for no.”

  Cammy turned away from me. I felt like an idiot.

  “Look, I don’t know if you’re confused or if you have amnesia or if part of your brain that remembers things was fried. So here’s the deal. Your name is Camilia Parker. You’re twenty-seven years old. You’ve been in this hospital for five years. You are married to a lawyer named Kendrick and you have a five-year-old son named Spencer.”

  No response.

  “You like to swim. You have a college degree in liberal arts, which I have no idea what that means or what you were planning to do with it.”

  Her lips tilted up in a small smile.

  My voice caught in my throat. “You named our parents’ boat the Pastel Princess, and it’s a dumb name. Your favorite food is shrimp fra diavolo, and I will never forget that, because you forgot your leftovers in the back of my Porsche one summer night.”

  The smile remained.

  I was running out of things to say, and the fear that I was now responsible for her remaining awake was devastating me. “You liked that song “Party Rock” by LMFAO. You had it on continuous loop at a pool party and I stole your phone and hid it in the hamper so I didn’t have to listen to it one more time. You said the baby danced to it.”

  The smile slid off her face.

  Shit.

  “I broke up with Alexa. You were right. She was a bitch.”

  The smile didn’t come back, but she was listening intently to me.

  “She was screwing around with her yoga instructor. Over me?” I flexed my arm muscles like a professional wrestler. “Can you believe it?”

  The smile came back.

  I waited to see if she would say something, but she just stared at me without recognition. Still, I felt there was a connection. “I’m not seeing anyone else. Well, not really.” I cleared my throat and felt a blush come over me when I thought about Dawn.

  “Do you want to play cards?” Cammy asked, right out of the blue.

  My jaw dropped. “Sure.”

  She dealt a hand and we played gin rummy, just like we used to when we were kids. She didn’t say anything else and I was too terrified to break the silence in case it would shatter the special world she had created. Her motor skills weren’t perfect, not that I expected them to be. Her fingers curled in too much and she kept dropping her cards. Cammy would hand me the deck to shuffle. I was astounded that her brain was working enough to follow the game. She even won a few hands. This was a miracle. From what my father had said, I had expected her to be drooling and staring into space. I bet Cammy would love to go out on the boat. Unless my father behaved like a dick and put her into relapse. Which, sadly, I could see happening. We played for about an hour before her eyelids started drooping.

  “Wait,” I said, in desperation. I couldn’t lose her now. Was this how my mother felt? “Nurse!” I ran for the door and flung it open.

  Brenda and another nurse came hurrying in, but by the time they got there it was too late. Cammy had left the table, gotten into bed, and closed her eyes.

  “I don’t know why it happened.” I said. “We were playing cards and . . .”

  “She’s just sleeping,” Brenda said, putting a hand on my arm.

  “How do you know?”

  She pointed to the cuff on Cammy’s arm that the other nurse was attaching wires to from the bedside machine. “That unit shows us her vital signs and her brain activity. We monitor her constantly. She’s had a long day with physical therapy this morning and her visit with you just now. She’s just tired.”

  “So she’s not . . . I mean . . . She’s going to wake up tomorrow, right?”

  “We have every reason to believe she will. Let’s let your sister rest, Mr. Parker.”

  I let her escort me back out to the elevator.

  “We didn’t talk much. All she asked was if I wanted to play cards. Has she said anything else?”

  “She has indicated she understands, says yes or no, but she hasn’t initiated conversation. She’s never asked us any questions. Still, it’s early days yet and the doctors are hopeful.”

  Fishing around in my pocket, I handed her my card. “If anything changes, please call me.”

  “I will.”

  “Do you think there’s a chance she’ll remember her old life?”

  “She’s getting the best round-the-clock treatment that money can buy. We’re a state-of-the-art facility and are on the cutting edge of brain injuries like your sister has. She has a long road ahead of her, but each day we’re seeing more and more improvement.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  I couldn’t wait to call my mother and was dialing her as soon as I cleared the lobby.

  “I just saw Cammy,” I said in a rush. “She’s doing great. She’s sitting up. We played gin rummy.”

  “Did she remember you?” My mother’s voice was thick with emotion.

  “I don’t know, but the doctors seem to be hopeful that this time she won’t slip back into her coma.”

  “It’s so hard,” she said.

  “She’s a fighter. I think this time she’ll beat this.”

  “The damage to her brain may be too severe. You shouldn’t get your hopes up. You weren’t there the other times when she faded back into the coma.”

  “I should have been. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We didn’t want to break your heart if things didn’t work out.”

  “Well, I understand that. But that was a wrong decision. I’m here now and we’re going to give Cammy a united front. Can you and Dad visit her this week?”

  She sighed. “I’m not strong enough for this.”

  “Yes, you are. Cammy needs you.”

  “Maybe Kendrick could go and bring Spencer.”

  I was already shaking my head. “No, that’s too much too soon. Let her remember us first.”

  “I’ll see if I can make arrangements.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What’s more important to you than your own daughter?”

  “My sanity. I can’t see her alive one minute and dead the next.” She shrieked the last few words at me and hung up.

  Well, that went peachy keen.

  I was not up for a repeat conversation with my father, so I drove back to town half listening to the oldies station play songs from my high school days. About halfway there I started cheering up because I was going to stop off at Tantric Books to drop off the check and collect the signed contract. At least that was going right for me. Then I was going to take Dawn out for a nice lunch and spend the rest of the afternoon fucking her until all I could feel was her soft body around me.

  Chapter 5

  Dawn

  I bartered with Millie and she agreed to watch the store for a few hours in exchange for some store credit to get some books and things she’s had her eye on. That way I could take some time with Rory to tell him I changed my mind about selling out. I might have led Millie to believe he was my boyfriend. She seemed so happy for me I couldn’t tell her the truth, that Rory and I had a one-night stand that I was going to use to blackmail him into leaving me alone.

  So when the man in question came in, Millie popped behind the counter and made little shooing gestures with her hands at me. He smiled at her and she blushed and looked away.

  “Easy with that charm, buster,” I said, grabbing my purse, which had his contract and a thumb drive with a pretty hot amateur porno on it.

  “Where do you want to go to lunch?”
>
  “Let’s talk in your car first. Millie, I’ll be back soon.”

  “No she won’t.” Rory slung his arm around my waist and pulled me close as we walked out the door.

  It was a damn shame this was going to end in an argument.

  He opened the car door for me and hurried around to the driver’s side. “It’s still broad daylight, otherwise I’d recommend this secluded spot where I used to go to park,” he said.

  “Broad daylight doesn’t bother me.”

  He went to start the car, but I stopped him.

  “Wait. You’re going to want to see this first. Do you have a laptop here?”

  “I didn’t want to discuss work right now, but since you brought it up.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. “Got something for me?”

  “Boy, do I. You need to boot up your laptop first.”

  “I don’t have it with me. Why don’t we go back to my yacht and order something to eat and then get down to some serious celebrating. When’s the moving truck getting here—tonight? I didn’t see any going-out-of-business sales. Is your profit margin already that low?”

  “Rory, I’m not leaving.”

  He gave a half laugh. “If this is about trying to shake me down for more money . . .”

  “No. It’s not. I tried to tell your father and then my landlord this, but they didn’t seem to care. I like my store. My customers need me and I’m not ready to make a move. I’m not sure how much clearer I could be.”

  “You seemed to know what you wanted last night.”

  “I wanted you last night. I still didn’t want to sell.”

  “We had a deal,” he said. The nice tone in his voice sounded tight and forced.

  “No. I told you I’d think about it. You took that to mean yes. Well, I thought about it. The answer remains no.”

  He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “So that’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  He put the car into gear.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking you to lunch on my yacht. Probably screw around for a bit if you’re up for it and then I’ll see what you wanted to show me on my computer.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, considering reaching for the door handle. The last thing I wanted to be was trapped on a boat when he saw the blackmail evidence.