"Oh, don't worry. I've had my fill. I'll leave the tourists to your care."
She smiled at me. My big sister was different. Had she always been like this? I noticed a white bandage sticking out from under her hair by her ear.
"Hannah, what happened to you?" An image flashed through my mind…she was slumped on the floor, unconscious. Hannah reached up to touch the bandage and I remembered it all at once. There was a fight in the bookstore. She was there trying to protect me.
"Sweetie, I'm okay,” she reassured. I must have started crying.
"But Derek hit you," I stated.
"He hit you, too."
”Yes, I suppose he did.”
"How long?"
"Hmmm?" I asked, confused by her question.
"I asked you before, many times, if he’d ever done anything besides yell. You said no. So, I need to know the truth now. How long had he been hitting you?"
I shrugged. "Pretty much since the beginning."
“That worthless piece of shit.”
“Hannah.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want to admit it.” Tears filled my eyes. “If I said the words out loud, it would be real. I couldn’t admit that it was real.”
"I'm so sorry."
"It wasn't your fault."
"But if I’d paid more attention….I’ve been sitting here remembering all the times I saw you bruised up and you had those lame-ass excuses. I was such an idiot to believe you. If I had been a better sister, you might’ve told me the truth."
"No, I wouldn't have."
"You were leaving him, weren't you?"
"How’d you know?"
"After you had left, I found the futon and dresser in the back, and all your clothes in the trunk of your car. You were going to live at the bookstore?"
"Yes."
"You could’ve come and stayed with me."
"And put you in harm's way, Hannah?” I reached out for her hand and grasped it as tight as my injuries would allow. “No. I couldn't do that to you."
"I would have insisted, had I known the truth."
"Ah, but you didn't. Hence, the sound reasoning behind the not telling you plan." I winked. It hurt.
"Well, you’re very lucky, sis."
"I know. It could have been much worse—" I stopped short as the rest of the night came flooding back. Derek and Landon confronting each other. Derek punching Landon. Telling Landon the truth about Derek.
Derek dragging me to the truck.
Landon on the side of the road...and the accident.
"Where is he?" I asked, horrified.
"Derek?"
I nodded. Okay, we could start with him. If he was okay then I knew that Landon was okay too. Landon had to be okay. Hannah held tightly to my hand, her thumb rubbing a cavern in my skin.
"Sweetie, Derek’s dead."
"What?" I cried out. Derek was...dead? Dead! I let go of her hand, covered my face with it, and began to sob. "Oh my God!"
Hannah sat down on the bed and gathered me in her arms. She stroked my hair and rocked me back and forth while I cried against her.
"He didn't survive the accident. He was gone by the time the ambulance got there." I pulled away and wiped the moisture from my face, needing desperately to ask the next question, but not knowing if I had the strength to hear the answer.
"And Landon?" I asked weakly.
Hannah paused. She didn't want to tell me…
"No! No!” I wailed. “Not Landon!" I screamed out. Hannah grabbed my arms and shook me gently.
"Belle! Landon’s still alive," she declared, cutting into my outburst.
"What? Where is he?"
"He's in really bad shape. He is in the ICU."
"How bad?"
"Sweetie, it doesn't look good. You got a bump on the head and a broken leg. He was really banged up when Derek hit him with the truck. Broken bones, internal bleeding. The works. Last I heard from his dad, they were going to transport him into Portland as soon as he’s stable enough. So far, sweetie, he's hanging in there. He's very strong."
"I need to see him.” I started to scoot to the edge of the bed but realized I couldn't move for all the tethers that held me in place. "I need to get out of this bed."
"Let me get a nurse," Hannah stood up. "Don't do anything, Belle. I'll get someone to help."
Just as I was reaching to disconnect the first wire, a tall man in a white coat sauntered into the room.
"I heard you were awake," the man said brightly. Dr. Lewis. "Hello Belle, my name is Doctor Lewis." He shook my hand. Did he not recognize me? He probably saw at least a dozen patients every day, right? Then I saw the expression on his face. He remembered. He was just covering for me in front of my sister. He turned to Hannah. "Miss, would you mind giving us a moment alone? I need to talk to Belle alone."
"Sure.” She gave my forehead a kiss. "Belle, I’m going to go get some coffee. I'll be right back."
When she was gone, Dr. Lewis turned back toward me. "You were very lucky...again."
"I know."
"You got another concussion, not to mention a broken leg."
"I know," I repeated, not caring for the moment about how lucky I was. There was only one person I truly cared about right now. "Doctor Lewis, do you know how Landon is doing?"
He looked at me with the very clinical and serious expression that doctors are famous for and replied, "Stable but still in extremely critical condition."
"I need to see him."
Dr. Lewis shook his head. “I wouldn’t advise it.”
“Please! I’ll do whatever you tell me to do after that. Just please, let me see him.” The doctor considered my request as I lay there, wishing that I could jump out of the bed and run to Landon.
"Okay, but we need to talk about a few things first. You listen to me and then I will make sure you see Landon. Deal?"
I nodded. I would agree to almost anything to get to Landon.
"You broke your leg. We repaired the damage as best we could but we couldn't risk surgery right now, so you will need to have that corrected later."
"Okay."
"You had no internal injuries, which is beyond miraculous as you were not wearing a seat belt. That said, you did suffer another concussion and being so close in timing to the previous one, leaves me concerned. I want to keep a close eye on you for the next few weeks."
"Okay."
“There’s something else. It's still very early on and with the trauma that you suffered there are no guarantees. We might have missed it altogether, if a routine blood test hadn't picked it up."
"Picked up what?" I squeaked out.
"Belle, you’re pregnant."
Chapter Twenty-Two
"Are you sure you’re ready for this?" Hannah asked for the third time as she wheeled me through the narrow hallways of the hospital.
"No one is ever ready for this."
My room was on the second floor. Landon was on the third. In the elevator, Hannah gripped my hand so tightly that her fingers left bright red marks. When the elevator arrived, the doors slid open. My heart pounded. In front of us was a sign: Intensive Care Unit. This is where the sickest of the sick come, I thought to myself. This is where he was. Hannah pushed the chair up to the double-doors that led to the ICU and came to a stop. She picked up the phone that rang directly to the nurses' station.
"Yes, we’re here to see Landon Peterson," she said into the receiver. "Yes...I understand, ma'am. Thank you."
"Only family is allowed in, Belle, but Doctor Lewis made an exception for you. I can’t go in.” She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and I reached up and held onto it while we waited. It was my turn to leave a mark on her. I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side of that door. The last time I’d been here, I watched my mother die. The machines, the tubes, the random beeping...I wanted to throw up at the memory of it.
Just when I was ready to flee, an older nurse with kind eyes came out. Hannah b
acked away and allowed the nurse to take the handles of my wheelchair.
The nurse leaned down and said quietly, "It's going to be okay, sweetheart."
"I'll be right here waiting for you," Hannah reminded me.
The nurse wheeled me away.
My pounding heart nearly stopped when I saw him on that bed, nothing but a glass wall separating us. There was no movement except the slight rise and fall of his chest with every manufactured breath.
The nurse tried to explain the worst of it. "He's on a ventilator because he isn't breathing on his own right now. He had suffered a severe brain injury and has been in a coma since he came in, but it's perfectly natural for the brain to turn off, so to speak, in order to give it time to heal. He has a fractured pelvis and several broken bones in his extremities. The internal bleeding has been stopped and right now, we’re just waiting for him to stabilize enough to allow him to be transferred into Portland," she whispered.
As she went through the laundry list of Landon's injuries, all I could think to myself was that this was all my fault. Landon was here because of me. I was strangled by the knowledge that if it hadn't been for me, neither of us would be here, in this place. Then my hand went to my stomach...but our baby wouldn’t be here either.
Three weeks pregnant.
I was so barely pregnant that the danger of miscarriage was still extremely high and with the accident, it made the tiny life growing inside of me even more precarious. The three of us were hanging onto life, even though it was by a tiny thread, and I would continue to fight to keep us all here and safe. I was carrying Landon's baby. I had to tell him. I had to be with him. I didn’t care what anyone else thought I should do anymore.
"Are you ready, dear?"
“Yes.” Landon needed me. I needed to see him.
She wheeled me into the doorway and it was then that I heard a man's voice.
"I'm so sorry, son." He spoke the tormented words through quiet sobs. Joseph sat in the chair next to the bed, his back to me. He held onto Landon's hand as he cried.
The nurse pulled me to a stop right outside of the doorway, not wanting to intrude on such a personal moment, but it was impossible not to listen, not to hear the desperate apology in his voice.
"I remember the day you left for USC. I was so proud of you. I’d never been prouder of anyone in my entire life. I knew you were going to go out and do all of the things I was never capable of doing. In spite of everything, I knew you were going to be okay. That's why I did what I did. I was trying to protect you. I just wanted you to have some semblance of a normal life. We both know a piece of me died with your mother but I never meant to shut you out. I wasn’t the father I should have been to you. Please forgive me."
He sobbed for several moments before he whispered, "This is all my fault."
"No it isn't." Startled, Joseph looked up at me, grief-stricken. "Mr. Peterson, the reason Landon is here and in the hospital bed is because of me, not you." My lower lip quivered. "I'm so sorry that Derek claimed every person that mattered to you in your life."
"Losing Landon," Joseph whispered, "was my choice. Looking at him was a constant reminder of how much we had both lost. So I stopped looking at him...stopped talking to him...and now it's too late."
"It's not too late. It's never too late."
"Do you really believe that?"
"I have to. I have no other choice. I love your son."
"I know you do," he conceded. It was not what I expected to hear from an anguished father. I expected him to be angry or to try to contradict me, but he didn't. "I know how much you love him."
"You do?"
He nodded. "Your sister and I met up in the cafeteria yesterday morning. She told me everything over a cup of coffee. She told me about Derek...what he did to you."
I lowered my face and wiped the tears from my eyes.
"I'm really sorry about that. I guess we were all his victims...even you. I judged you too harshly and I am sorry," he offered.
"Please. You don't need to apologize to me. Most of what you said to me was absolutely right on the mark. I just didn't want to hear it. If I’d left your son alone, he wouldn't be here. The truth is, I would change many things about my life but the one thing I wouldn't, is falling in love with Landon.”
“We got into a fight about you. He’s been talking to me a lot more than we ever had, since…you. Not that I made it easy on him. It was…difficult for me to talk about things. The morning of the accident, he tried again. He wanted to talk to me about you. You see, he was confused. Instead of helping him decide what to do, I fought with him. He was packing for Chicago and I told him that he was better off — without you. I told him to go out and follow his dreams. He told me that you were his dream.”
Fresh, hot tears tumbled down my face, and I shook my head. “No. You were right. He was better off. He’s here…because of me.”
"No. He’s in here because of Derek. I should have told him who Derek was," he said in a raspy whisper. He turned back toward Landon. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to figure it out."
"I'm sorry all of this happened." I was openly weeping.
"Me, too."
The nurse sniffled behind me, tears streaming down her face.
I looked back to Joseph and asked, "Would you like me to come back later so that you can have more time alone? I didn't mean to interrupt."
He shook his head. "No, please come in. I know he would want you to be here." He retreated to the edge of the small room. The nurse wheeled me right next to the bed. Landon was so close I could reach out and touch him...but I wasn't ready. My own fear and guilt was overwhelming me.
The ventilator hissed and I watched as Landon's chest expanded in unison. There were tubes coming out of him and IV's hanging around the head of the bed. Bandages covered almost every surface of his skin. His head was wrapped in gauze and his translucent eyelids stood out in contrast to the purple and yellow bruises that covered his face. Both of his legs were in casts as was his right arm. It was too much to bear.
Joseph took a small step toward the bed. "He's looking like he's got a bit more color."
“Yes, I think he does." The nurse agreed, checked all of Landon's vital signs, and looked at the level of his IV bag.
The she came around to me, placed both of her hands on my shoulders and locked the wheelchair in place. "Talk to him, sweetie. I'm sure he's been missing you." She turned and left the room.
Landon lay motionless in his hospital bed. I sat there, frozen, watching the man I loved more than anything in the world until I could no longer keep myself from reaching out to him. I grabbed his hand in my own and held it to my cheek. It was so warm. I squeezed tight.
"Landon," I sobbed. "This is all my fault. I did all of this. Please forgive me."
Joseph stayed silent, leaning up against the wall.
I didn't know what I expected to happen. I wanted him to sit up and argue with me, but I would have settled for him opening his eyes and taking a breath on his own…but he didn’t.
"I need to tell you something, Landon. I need to tell you that I didn't mean what I said. When I said I wasn't ever in love with you, I didn't mean it." I was almost hysterical, but I continued, "I do love you. I love you more than anything does. I need you to hear me and believe me. I was just trying to protect you. I was just trying to keep you safe.
"I never meant to hurt you, baby. That's the last thing I ever wanted. I was broken when you met me, living a life that wasn’t my own and you saved me from all of that. You’re so much better than I am. I will thank God for the rest of my life for the day you walked into the store. Landon, you saved my life. I’m sorry I destroyed yours."
Landon's dad had his head hung low. I needed him to believe me almost as much as I needed his son to do the same.
"That day that your mom and sisters died…you said you felt guilty for living. You believed you should’ve been in the van with them. You can't feel guilty. You still have things left to do." I leaned
forward, so close. If he were listening, he’d be able to hear me. "Landon. Our baby needs you," I whispered only to him. "The last words you ever hear from me won’t be a lie. You can't let that happen. Therefore, you have to wake up. You have to forgive me! You have to. I love you, and I never meant for any of this to happen."
The sobs broke from me and I lowered my head to the bed, gripping his hand tightly in my own, never wanting to let him go.
"You can't die thinking I didn't love you. I do! I love you. I want you. I've made such a mess of things. You have to live. Please. You have to tell me that you forgive me...please..."
Then…
The movement was so small I might have thought I imagined the whole thing.
Again…
He could hear me.
"Joseph! He squeezed my hand. He squeezed my hand!"
Landon's dad called for a nurse behind me as I cried out, "Landon, can you hear me? I love you...I love you!" I declared, kissing his hand. Another gentle squeeze.
Then the moment turned to terror in an instant. All the alarms in the room went off in unison, a flat-line going across the monitor.
I screamed, "No! Landon! Oh God! No!”
Doctors and nurses overran the room, scurrying about and yelling things I didn't understand. I watched the monitor, tears rolling down my face, willing the line to move, but there was nothing.
Landon's heart had stopped beating...
Chapter Twenty-Three
Three months later
My feet sank into the thick, plush grass of the cemetery, a bouquet of flowers in hand as I searched for the headstone. It had rained for two weeks straight and the grass, while beautiful and green, was a watery mess.
Thank goodness that my cast was gone, or the task of searching the rows and rows of headstones would be that much worse. I glanced at the stout boots that adorned my feet. They weren't attractive, but they were practical. A girl in my predicament needed to think sensibly.
I searched the cemetery for several minutes, following my sister's instructions to the letter, and finally came across the headstone I was looking for. It waited at the end of one row, the grass over the dirt just beginning to take hold. The outline of the rectangular hole was still glaringly apparent, telling everyone who passed this grave that it was new.
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