“It’s too early to say at this point, but he’s in the best hands in the state. Be prepared to wait for some time. This is going to be a long road.”
I walk away from the paramedic in a trance-like state. Who knew that my day would turn out like this? The paramedic calls to me as I walk away in obvious concern, but there is nothing he could do for me, so I continue on my path.
I ask the reception desk where I can find Mick. They let me know he is in the critical care unit on the fifth floor. Still in a trance, I take the elevator and make my presence known to the nurse.
“Is he okay?” This time, I feel defeated and the question comes out softly.
“It’s too early to tell. You may want to go home. This is going to be a long recovery.” When I don’t move, she purses her lips and sighs. “There is coffee on the table over there. We’ll let you know as soon as there’s news.”
“Thank you.”
Walking over to the most convenient seat, I see Tobin, Mick’s biological father. He shares an expression of concern on his face, yet is still able to muster a kind smile. To his left is a very attractive blonde who sits there, smacking her gum. It just seems rude.
“Hi, Sam,” Tobin says in a calm voice.
“Hi, Tobin.”
“A hell of a thing.”
“Yes, truly.”
I have never been close to Tobin. It’s Mick’s mother who married my father, but in the instant of understanding who he is to Mick, a rush of emotions wash over me. I wrap my arms around him and cry. Tobin places his arms around me in a consoling way.
“There, there. Not to worry. Mick is a fighter. He’ll pull through.”
I look at him, puzzled, maybe even a little angry. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen. The last thing I need is false hope. But Tobin’s expression does not wane or waver. He is serious. He’s confident that Mick will be just fine.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know the boy. I have been with him his whole life, through all of his injuries. He always pulls through. Besides, what’s the other option?”
Tobin is right. Why shouldn’t I believe Mick’s going to pull through? He needs my positive thoughts, now more than ever. Tobin smiles at me as he sees me sitting in silent contemplation. He’s a good-looking man for his age, probably in his sixties. His tanned skin is evidence of his love of the sun. I assume he’s a surfer like Mick—perhaps he even taught Mick how to surf. I feel a great deal of comfort with him and take it upon myself to lean my head on his shoulder. Tobin puts his arm around me and starts to rub my shoulder in a fatherly way. It’s nice to have his company and comfort. I do wonder, though, how he’ll feel about me—Mick’s stepsister—dating his son.
I begin to feel the sting of someone staring at me. As I raise my head, I see the blonde sitting on Tobin’s other side giving me the evil eye. A shrill voice comes shrieking out of her mouth.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Uh, I beg your pardon?”
“I said, who the fuck are you?! You must be that slut from the picture on the beach. The mistake that Mick made.”
My jaw sags as I realize who this is. It’s Mick’s girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend. I’m not only shocked by her being there, but embarrassed that Tobin may have seen the picture, as well. This is not something that I want to deal with right now. All I want to know is that Mick is okay. But she continues to pursue her gripe with me.
“You know, he told me all about you and how it was a mistake. You are being used. Mick and I have a history together, you are just a fling.”
Her words made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I’m normally not one to engage in conflict, but I’m sick of standing out of the way.
“Listen, blondie, I am here to see that Mick is okay. It has nothing to do with you, or anyone else. My concern is only for his well-being. Now, if you’re interested in the same, sit there and shut up. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be in jail?”
The look of shock and horror on her face is priceless. I feel empowered and strong, albeit a little embarrassed as the entire room looks over to see what’s going on. Delia picks up her purse, stands up, considers saying something, thinks better of it, and storms away. She drops her sunglasses and almost falls as she tried to pick them up. Looking over at Tobin, I can see him smiling as if to say, “That is just what she needed.” I sit back down, but my blood is boiling, Tobin puts his hand on mine and continues to smile.
“Thank you for getting her away from here. I didn’t have the nerve to start a conversation with her.”
***
I spend the next few days with Tobin, getting to know him, and through him, getting to know Mick. Tobin has what I feel is the purest of hearts. He gives me insights into Mick that would have taken years for me to find out on my own. He tells me about the relationship with Delia and where Mick went wrong. Speaking of Delia, she has stopped coming to the hospital, confirming her character. I continue to go to Mick. I need him to be okay.
Through this all, I cannot teach, but this seems far more important. This is more important than anything, especially my business. I thoroughly enjoy my time with Tobin, even if it’s laced with the fear that Mick might not come around.
The next morning, Tobin and I arrive together on the fifth floor. We usually go in to see Mick first, and then come back out to the waiting area. The nurses believe that hearing our voices might help bring him back around. I’m starting to wonder.
After greeting the nurse, we walk in and sit down by Mick’s bedside. I always kiss him on the forehead in the morning. It’s very hard to see him like this, and it never gets any easier. His leg is wrapped up from the bottom of his toe to just below his waist. It makes me queasy to think about what it looks like underneath. Mick, however, looks the same. His tanned skin against the pale white sheets is a stark contrast. I think a lot about how he doesn’t belong here.
It’s not until this moment that I realize Tobin knows how I felt about Mick. It doesn’t seem to faze him in the least. Or maybe he’s just doing his best to deal with only the things he can, at this point.
I am rocked out of my contemplation by the increasing frequency of Mick’s hear monitor. It’s subtle at first, and then progresses with ferocity—his heart rate is definitely climbing. Tobin looks at me with horror. It’s the first time I have seen him truly concerned. I look at the nurse’s station as one of the nurses began to walk over. Mick jerks up out of his slumber just as she arrives.
“Shark! Shark!”
He thrashes at the intravenous tubes and is trying desperately to get away. The look of horror in his eyes is sickening. Even though his eyes are open, he has no idea where he is, that is for certain.
It’s the most relieving, yet heartbreaking scene I have ever been a part of. A mad scramble ensues. People rush over to prevent Mick from jumping out of his bed and hurting himself. The nurses hold him down as Mick seems to relive the attack with the shark. His eyes are open but he doesn’t seem to be looking at anything. The nurse administers a sedative, which eventually causes his thrashing to subside.
Don’t sleep now, Mick, I think. Not again. I have been waiting for days. But Mick’s eyes close as he again slips into a deep slumber.
The nurse comes over to us. All I can do is hold my hands over my mouth, unsure of whether to be relieved or upset. What does it all mean?
“Guys, I am going to have to ask you to leave now. We’re going to need to perform some tests on Mick.”
“But this is good, right?” I ask her. “It’s a good sign that he woke up?”
“It is neither good nor bad right now. We need to figure that all out. I know you are concerned, but the sooner we can get started, the sooner we can tell you what to expect. Please go to the waiting room.”
Tobin places his arm around me and walks out of the waiting room. I would not have left if he hadn’t been holding me. We say nothing to each other, because we’re not sure what to say. According to the nurse, it may be good, it
may be bad. I hate waiting, but we have no choice. All we can do is worry our way through the day.
Chapter 18 Mick– Shark in the Ward
“Shark! Shark!”
Where the hell am I? I need to get out of here. Where is that shark? What is going on? Why are these people grabbing me, why am I feeling tired…
***
I awake with a start, unsure of where I am. I gasp for breath. The last thing I remember is the shark. I decide it’s better to take stock of my surroundings before I start yelling again. I try to piece the information together again and recall where I am and how I got here. I have some recollections of the attack, but can’t remember much of anything after that.
Looking down, I see my leg is wrapped in an enormous bandage. I touch it and feel it is more of a cast. I try to raise my leg, but I can’t—the pain shooting through it is intense. I guess the good news is that I still have a leg.
I have all of my faculties, albeit I’m a little groggy. More good news: I’m alive. I can’t get the image of that shark bearing down on me out of my head. It is still surreal and seems like it never happened. My leg, however, is a testament to the fact that it did.
There is a great deal of silence, with the exception of dinging machines. I have no idea if it’s day or night, nor do I have any recollection of how long I have been here. A nurse arrives at my bedside.
“Mick, do you know where you are?”
“Well, it looks like a hospital. So I assume that’s where I am.”
“What do you remember?”
“I remember the shark attack. I remember swimming for my life. I remember it tearing into my leg and the searing pain of its jaws. Then I remember Sam, sitting by my side. Holding my hand and crying. But how is that possible? Is my leg okay? Will I ever walk again? Where is Sam? Where is my father?”
“Mick, there is a lot to go through. I need you to have a little patience.”
“No, I need to know. Please, give me the news!”
“It’s too early to tell, but after hours of surgery, we were able to attach most of the nerve endings. You have definitely lost muscle, but the body is an incredible machine—it has the ultimate capacity for healing. However, how hard you are willing to work will ultimately determine your recovery. Your father is here. Would you like me to let him in?”
“Yes! Of course!”
Moments later, my father walks around the divider. I cannot help by cry at the sight of him. Man, is he ever a sight for sore eyes. He laughs and I laugh, both of us with tears in our eyes, happy that I’m alive. He has never been a man of many words, but the ones he says now are most certainly precious.
“Glad to have you here, son.”
That said it all. In his amazing way, he captured “I love you,” “Thank God you’re not dead,” and “I couldn’t imagine my world without you” in those six simple words.
“Someone else is here to see you.”
“If Delia has weaseled her way out of prison, I am not interested.”
“It’s a girl, but it is not Delia.”
To my shock and joy, it’s Sam. She smiles with a tear in her eye as she comes into view. I don’t reach for her, but I don’t have to. She has already wrapped herself around me.
“She has been here every day since they brought you in,” my father says.
I blink at him. “What do you mean, every day?”
My father frowns. He looks somber again. “You don’t know how long you have been here, do you?”
“No.”
“Mick,” he says gently, “you have been here for almost two weeks.”
Good Lord! I have lost two weeks of my life, but thankfully, I didn’t lose my life altogether. This sure brings a lot of things into perspective. I’m scared, and I’m sure it’s written all over my face. Immediately, I decide on two things. The first is that I will not be getting back into the water again, and the second is that my love for Sam is true.
“Mick, I am going to let you two alone for a while to catch up, but I will still be here.”
Dad always just seems to know what the moment requires.
“One more thing, Mick,” he says to me before he leaves. “Do yourself a favor and don’t let this one get away.”
I smile at my father. He has commented on a lot of things. Never before, though, has he meddled in my love life. He must see in Sam the same thing that I see in her. Sam pulls up a chair right by my bedside and grabs onto my hand. She looks deep into my eyes, we exchange small talk for a little while until her expression changes.
“Mick, don’t take this the wrong way, but… I think I’m…”
“You think you’re what?”
“I think I am…”
Sam seems unable to control herself and she stands up to run away. I sit there alone, calling her name, but with no response. I don’t know if she’s telling me goodbye, or if she’s confessing her love for me. Either way, I am exhausted. As I lay my head back, I can see Sam walking back. I try to stay awake, but the meds and the excitement of the day have gotten the better of me.
“Mick, are you awake? I wanted you to know that I…”
Chapter 19 Samantha - Of Love
I come back to Mick’s bedside. He looks as tired as any one person could be. I sit down again and grab his hand. I am so scared of losing him. He has to know.
“Mick, are you awake? I wanted you to know that I love you.”
Mick isn’t awake, and maybe it’s for the best. This is a good test for me to see if I can say the words. I said them and I meant them. When he wakes again, I will tell him. I leave the room to let him sleep and go back into the waiting room with Tobin. The nurse comes by to speak to us.
“Mick is almost ready to go home. His vitals are all normal and his wounds are healing properly. It will now be a waiting game. We cannot know how much damage has been done until all of the muscles and nerves properly heal. It could take months, it could take years—it may never happen. One thing he is going to need is a good support system. He will need ‘round the clock care for the next few weeks. We can give you the name of a home service and you can make arrangements.”
“I used to be a homecare worker. Could I do that job?” I chime in before thinking about it.
“Do you know how to change bandages?”
“Yes.”
“From a medical perspective, that is the most important thing. We need to stave off any infection. Keep in mind this is not an easy process and it can be very emotional. If you feel you are able and up to the task, then go ahead.”
“I can do it. I want to do it.”
“Very well. He will be released to your care tomorrow. I recommend sending him home in an ambulance and renting a hospital bed for the duration of his needs.”
“He will come to my house. I understand his house requires some work right now.”
Tobin looks over at me, smiling softly. I think he’s both glad it’s something I want to do for Mick, as well as grateful that he won’t have to be the one to step up. We both know Mick will need support now more than ever. A pang of reservation washes over me as I realize what I am committing too. I still won’t be able to work, and Mick will be in my house. It’s a lot to ask, for sure, but if not for love, then what would anyone do it for?
Tobin and I walk back into where Mick is situated, to talk to him about the next steps. Mick, Tobin, and I speak at length about life, love, and the great beyond. My procrastination about telling him he would be coming home with me has gone on for as long as it can. The conversation needs to happen.
“Mick,” I say, “you are going to be released from the hospital tomorrow.”
“What? Am I able to go home now?”
“They say your recovery will go much better out of the hospital. You are going to have to retrain your muscles if you ever want to get back into the water.”
“Well, I can’t very well go home. My place is destroyed. Never mind the fact that everything is up a set of stairs or down a few.”
&
nbsp; “I know that, son,” Tobin replies.
Mick eyes him. “And I can’t very well live with you in your trailer.”
“I know that, son.”
The feeling comes over me that Mick is going to realize I am his only option. Granted, he’s rich and could probably afford to rent someplace, but to figure all of that out now would be a nightmare. Should I bring it up to him? Or should I wait for him to bring it up to me? As usual, my mouth opens first.
“Mick, why don’t you stay with me?”
He swings his head around to look in my direction. “Sam, that’s nice, but I’m not sure I can ask you to do that.”
Surge : A Stepbrother Romance Page 9