Releasing the rosary, I withdrew my cell from my pocket, scrolled to her number and connected the call. I needed her expertise. “Hola, Abuelita,” I greeted when she picked up. King’s gaze met mine, and we exchanged a brotherly glance.
“Hola, cómo estás?” Hi. How are you?
“I’m not good. Melinda’s been in a skiing accident. She’s hurt pretty badly. She’s unconscious.” My throat constricted. “I…I’m… I’ve been praying, but I need your help. Could you…”
“Si, mi nieto.” Yes, my grandson. “I will pray for her and so will all of us here. We will go straight to St. Mary’s and light a candle for her. Is there a place in the hospital where you can go, too?”
The chapel was easy enough to find. My internal bearings were still lost, however. Everything felt inside out and upside down. I wanted to rewind time, to have her back in my arms when she had still been safe. I had to repeatedly stop myself every time the words ‘what if’ entered my mind.
I lit a candle. I sent prayer after prayer heavenward. I didn’t keep track of how many petitions I made on her behalf and I didn’t know exactly how long I remained on the prayer bench beneath the stained glass window depicting Christ with a lamb in his arms, only that my muscles were cramped and my knees were sore when I finally stood and made my way back to the others. The sound of my footfalls echoed in the hallway, the sympathetic glances that lifted to meet mine reflected my disquiet. The waiting room clock revealed several hours had gone by. I rechecked with the nurse. Still no additional news.
Heart heavy, I reclaimed my seat beside my best friend. He didn’t speak, but resumed softly drumming his fingertips on the armrests of his chair, a familiar and a reassuring presence. April, Dizzy, War and Bryan remained silently vigilant from their stations across from us. The Mine bartender looked as twisted up as I felt inside. Her glance alternated between the clock on the wall, and the set of double doors that led to the back where we all knew the staff were attending to Melinda.
As time continued to tick on, fear eroded the relative peace I had found in my meditation. It began to feel like the only thing holding the pieces of my sanity together was the long distance love of mi familia back in Seattle and the support from my only other family gathered in the chairs around me.
“Sager.” My head snapped up as Mary Timmons emerged from the restricted access area, the automatic doors sliding closed behind her. “Come with me.” She was still wearing the Black Cat logoed skiwear from earlier on the slopes. Her expression betrayed her exhaustion. “They have her stabilized. They moved her to Neuro ICU.”
I stood, and King came to his feet beside me. He clasped my shoulder and squeezed. “If you want me to come with you, I will.”
Mary shook her head. “Access is limited in the unit. Only one can come back with me.”
“I’ll be ok,” I told King.
His brows drew together. I could feel his stress for me. “I’ll be right here if you need me, mi hermano.”
I nodded once.
“Is she going to be alright?” April asked, her voice trembling.
“Time will tell,” Mary responded, her grey eyes swimming in emotion. I knew she cared about Melinda, but I also remembered what she had shared about her son. I imagined this was hard for her on many levels. “She has a breathing tube in. The doctors have put her into a medically induced coma. Her condition is critical. I’ve called her father. He’s coming as soon as he can get a flight. I have prayed. I recommend you all do the same.”
Her ominous words fell like a black drape over the light in my eyes and the hope in my heart. Clutching the cross on the rosary with one hand, I swiped my jacket off the back of the chair with the other. As I moved toward Mary, I noticed that the others had gathered together around King. In my absence he was the one who most needed support. Tempest might not be a family by blood, but we were one in most every way that really mattered.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come for you sooner.” Her gaze hit mine as we travelled side by side down the long silent white corridor. “But I didn’t want to leave her alone. Her coach has been on the phone handling the formal complaint with the race officials. Muriel has been disqualified. Not that it makes the present situation any more tolerable.”
“The accident.” I swallowed recalling Melinda’s small body pin wheeling through the air. “Does she have any other injuries?”
“A few bruises, cuts and scrapes...they think the layer of fresh snow mostly protected her. Hitting the tree did the damage. It’s her head injury that has the medical staff concerned.” She turned a corner and waved to the nurse through the ICU glass door. We walked through it when it slid open.
“She’s in three.” Mary pointed to a room on the left enclosed with a half glass wall and a curtain covering the entrance. “I’m going out to make a couple of calls. Get some input from specialists in the field. Fly them in if need be.”
I nodded numbly and crossed the hall. A woman I didn’t recognize in a fitness suit with the team Canada colors rose from a chair as I drew back the curtain.
“Mr. Reed?” she inquired, looking shaken.
“Yes,” I replied automatically, but I barely registered her face or anything else about her. My eyes were on Melinda. My sight blurred as I stared at her, so still and tiny in the bed surrounded by medical equipment.
“Katherine Arbold. I’m sorry to meet you under such trying circumstances.” Her tone was filled with sadness. “Have the chair,” she whispered. “I’ll get some coffee. I’m here for the duration, but the nurse has my cell number. Have her call me right away if there’s any change.”
I nodded absently while my gaze stalled on the frail form of the woman who had been so vibrant and full of life the last time I had seen her. She had fine red scratches on her cheeks and chin, but her pretty features were otherwise unblemished. I didn’t like the way the plastic tube that protruded from her mouth almost seemed as if it were choking her. Without even realizing it my feet took me closer. As if there was anything I could do. She obviously needed that tube to breathe. I felt as battered inside as she looked, but so fucking helpless to change anything. Tossing my jacket in the plastic chair, I reached for her. I had to touch her. I stroked her dark tresses with a shaking hand.
“Blue.” A sharp sob escaped my lips. Legs threatening to fold, I laid my cheek to her chest careful of the IV’s but desperate to hold her. I needed to hear her heartbeat beneath my ear. Not the artificial one bleeping on the monitors, but the true one inside of her, the one that beat to the same tempo as mine. “Wake up, Melinda,” I begged. “Open your pretty eyes, babe. I need to hear your sweet voice. I want you to hear me tell you how much I love you.” I lifted my head and peered at her face. There was no change. She hadn’t moved. The only answer to my request was the rhythmic hiss of the breathing machine and continued bleeps of the monitor. “You have to come back to me. I need you so much. I know you don’t get it. We haven’t had enough time together for me to convince you. But it’s true. No one else understands me. I need you to tell me everything’s going to be alright. I can believe it when you say it, when you look at me that way you do.” When she didn’t respond, the built up pressure behind my eyes made them burn. I adjusted my coat, moving it to the back of the chair before taking a seat. I scooted the chair closer to the bed and covered her smaller hand with my own. Her skin felt like ice. Inside me, an inferno of ineffectual rage blazed. Why had this happened to her? To us? Hadn’t we both endured enough bad stuff already?
• • •
I cracked open my eyes to the muted pink light of another dawn peeking through the gaps in the metal blinds. The days and nights had begun to blend into one over the last forty-eight hours. I lifted my head, and my heart sank when I looked at Melinda, resigned to the fact that the passage of time had yielded no progress. My shoulder and back muscles screamed in protest from hours in the same position in my chair at Melinda’s side.
“Sager.” A gentle hand jostled my shoulder. I turne
d and blinked my eyes into focus. Mary Timmons had changed. She was back in her usual elegant business attire. Her protective armor, the random thought surfaced. “Time to take another break. Go get some rest.” Her narrowed eyes were filled with concern. “You know the motel is walking distance right up the street. At least get a shower. You’ll feel better. I promise I’ll call you if there’s any change.”
“No.” I would never feel better. Not until she opened her eyes. My throat was so dry from my repeated pleas to the Virgin Mother that I couldn’t form a more elaborate protest. I straightened my spine and immediately resumed the practiced habit of rolling the smooth beads between my fingers.
“Sager you’ve been here all night again. You won’t do her any good when she wakes to find you’re exhausted.”
“I’m staying.” I had an irrational fear that if I left something horrible would happen. I had to remain. I had to be here. She had to open her eyes and when she did, I had to be the first thing she saw.
“You...” She trailed off, her head snapping around at the sound of a loud booming voice behind us at the nursing station.
Melinda’s father suddenly appeared filling the gap in the curtain. His hair was a mess. The grooves around his eyes were like craters. He looked like a man at the end of his rope. “Get out both of you!” he shouted glaring at me and Mary. “This is all your doing. All your fault. Get the fuck out of my daughter’s room.”
“This is an intensive care unit,” Mary cautioned her voice lowering, speaking to him as if he were an unruly child. “Lower your voice. Take a deep breath, and…” She trailed off as Melinda suddenly moaned.
I stood and clasped her tiny hand to my chest. Her eyes remained closed, but her lids fluttered as if she were having a bad dream behind them.
“Get a doctor!” her father barked, his gaze glued to his daughter, the fear in his eyes telling me that he loved her, just not in the way she deserved. Mary was already on her way out of the room. “Leave,” he reiterated to me without looking away from Melinda. He tried to take her hand from me, but there was no way that was happening. “Baby Blue,” he rasped. “Wake up.”
Melinda’s legs shifted restlessly. Hope broke like the coming dawn after too many long and weary nights.
“You don’t belong here.” Her father turned his head to glare at me. “You’re the reason she’s broken in this bed. If it weren’t for you and Timmons, she would be back in Vancouver, attending school, unharmed and whole.”
I inwardly staggered under the truth of that accusation.
“I want you out. Now.” The direction of his gaze dipped to where my hand covered hers. “Don’t make me call security.”
A doctor and nurse came running into the room, the bustle of activity cutting off whatever else he had been about to say. White coat swirling around his hips, the doctor didn’t even spare us a glance. “Nurse clear this room,” he barked. “Immediate family can wait outside in the hall. Everyone else needs to go to the waiting room.”
Mary touched my arm. I had barely registered her reappearance. Melinda moaned again. She started thrashing in the bed, seeming agitated, her hands rising and clawing at the breathing tube as if she wanted to pull it out.
“Sager.” Mary tugged on my hands to get my attention. I could see the relief in her eyes and also a plea for me to be reasonable. “She’s fighting her way back. Let’s give the medical staff room to help her. Think of Melinda and pick your battles. You know that as soon as she can talk she’s going to ask for you.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Melinda
“Daddy,” I croaked sounding like a bullfrog.
“Melinda.” Strong arms latched tight around me. “Thank God.”
Every muscle in my battered body screamed in protest. “Hurts,” I managed to eke out.
“Sorry,” he said, loosening his hold on me. “I’m just so glad you’re ok. You’ve been unconscious for days...I thought…I was afraid…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. I was pretty amazed to still be alive after my plunging crash down the side of the mountain.
“Here, Miss Belle.” I heard the motor whirr and felt the top of the bed rising behind me. “Drink some water. It will help soothe your throat.” A straw bumped against my lips. I captured it with my mouth and sucked the cool liquid down greedily.
“Thank you,” I managed when I finished it.
“How’s your pain level?” the nurse asked, her voice empathetic. “On a scale of one to ten.”
“About a fifteen,” I acknowledged sardonically.
“I’ll get you a dose of IV pain medicine. I don’t think you’re up to swallowing a pill just yet. Can I get you anything else?”
“No, but could you please turn on the light on your way out? I can barely see anything.”
A pall fell over the room. In the long uncomfortable silence, the monitor echoed the sound of my escalating heart rate.
“Daddy,” I called for him like a two-year-old might. “Where are you?” I couldn’t distinguish him amid the confusion of shadows in the room. “What’s going on?”
“I’m right here, baby. Can’t you…I mean…It’s just that…” He stumbled for words.
“I’ll get the doctor,” the nurse said ominously.
“Please, Daddy. You’re scaring me now. Turn on the light, please.”
“Baby.” He touched my arm, his fingers icy. “The light is on. It’s lit up like a florist shop in here.” I felt the air move as something seemed to pass in front of my face.
“What was that?” I blinked, narrowing my gaze as my trepidation grew.
“My hand. I just waved it barely an inch away from your eyes.”
I inhaled sharply, my chest so tight I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Miss Belle.” A new voice. “I’m Dr. Martin.” Heavy footsteps resounded as a shadow grew somewhere in my field of view. “The nurse says you’re having some difficulty with your vision.”
I bobbed my head, my rising terror choking me as much as the breathing tube that had only recently been removed.
“Ok, Miss Belle. Can you see me right now?”
“Only your shadow, really,” I admitted.
“What else can you see?”
“I can see blotches of color. Reds. Yellow.”
“That would be the flowers your many admirers have brought you. Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”
“No. I just saw something move in front of my face.”
“I’m going to check your pupils now.”
I suddenly experienced a strobe-like flash of light that I found mildly uncomfortable.
“Alright, Miss Belle. I’m going to order another CT scan and discuss my findings with the care team. It’s not uncommon to have some degree of visual impairment following a head injury such as the one you sustained.”
“Is it permanent?” I asked nervously.
“In some cases, but in others the visual loss is transient or improves significantly. Let’s wait on the new test results before we make any determinations. Ok?”
“Ok.” I parroted feeling small, smaller and more alone than I had ever felt in my life. The tense silence returned as the doctor’s footsteps retreated from the room. “Daddy,” I called. I heard him shift restlessly. I could make out a dark shape that fit his dimensions, but nothing distinct. I remembered a time as a young child when I had sleep walked into the back of my closet. Suddenly awake, my eyes not properly adjusted, I hadn’t been able to find my way out. It had taken me several panic filled moments to find the door among the hanging clothes. The heart pounding sense of claustrophobic fear rushed back to me now. “Can you hold my hand, please, Daddy?”
“Sure, Baby Blue.” I felt his fingers close tightly around mine.
“Don’t leave me, ok?”
“I won’t. I’m staying right here.”
“Ok.” I was relieved by his presence, but I knew from experience that he was ill-equipped for a nurturing role. An image of Sager’s warm and cari
ng eyes flashed into my mind, but I couldn’t call for him. I had heard him and my dad arguing while I was still sedated. I couldn’t deal with more confrontation, not right now. I would do the test first. The doctors would figure out what was going on and fix it. Then I would call for Sager. I couldn’t wait to have his arms around me. Everything would be better soon.
• • •
Sager
The minutes turned into an hour. The hour dragged into a second one. Doubts gnawed at the edges of my fatigued mind. Why hadn’t she called for me?
King had come back to the hospital when he found out Melinda had awakened, again at my side in silent support. April and the others still slept at the hotel. We decided not to wake them until we had more definitive news to share. And I sure as hell wasn’t leaving the hospital until I had a chance to hold her in my arms and tell her how I felt. I had almost lost her. The accident had shaken me badly. I realized now on an even deeper level how fucking fortunate I was to have found her. I wasn’t going to let a single opportunity pass to let her know how much I cared about her.
“I’m starving.” King suddenly slapped his thighs and stood startling me from the worn groove of my worry. “I’m going to the cafeteria. You wanna come with me?”
“No, man.” I shook my head. “I’m staying right here.”
“Ok. I’ll bring you back something.” He knew better than to try to change my mind.
“Sounds good.” Eyes grainy from lack of rest and too much stress, I stared at his form until he disappeared down the hall. The row of chairs opposite me stood empty, the way I felt inside. Hollow, though the one who could fill that void lay just beyond the ICU doors. I just had to be patient and wait for our time to come.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Melinda
“You must be mistaken,” my father insisted from the foot of my hospital bed. “She can’t be blind. Look for yourself. There’s nothing wrong with her eyes.”
The Complete Tempest World Box Set Page 151