“Like I have a gigantic head.” He gingerly tapped the bandage. “No pain, though. It’s the first time I’ve ever taken pain medicine. Well, except for aspirin. It works really well.” His eyes drifted shut as he spoke.
“I have someone with me who’s anxious to see you,” she said.
I stepped closer before remembering what the nurse said and stepped back as Cole opened his eyes to Maggie again. She pointed at me.
Slowly, Cole’s bandaged head turned. He blinked a few times, and then smiled. “Lilah,” he whispered. “I remember.” He drifted to sleep with a smile on his face.
**
I went directly home and crashed, sleeping for ten hours straight. I woke at five a.m. and went for a run before showering and getting ready to see Cole. We were told he wouldn’t be allowed visitors again until ten this morning. I intended to be there first thing. I grabbed my phone, remembering what Booker had said about Daddy leaving a message. He didn’t seem too worried about them so I hadn’t bothered to listen yet. I wanted to focus on Cole, not Daddy. I tucked the phone into the pocket of my yellow capris and left.
I arrived at the hospital ten minutes early. They’d moved him to a private room and it took me several minutes to find him through the maze of hallways. The room was surrounded by windows from floor to ceiling, and the curtains were open. Cole sat upright in bed, a sketch pad on the bedside table.
“Knock, knock.” I slowly pushed the ajar door open. He looked up as I entered. I noticed the puffiness of his face as I stepped closer. I swallowed hard and drew on my Dreser skills of deception. I smiled as if nothing were wrong.
“Hello, beautiful woman I remember so well.”
“Hello, sexy beast with a huge bandaged head.” I laughed and stepped toward him. He put up his hand, signaling me to stop.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered, a chill creeping around me.
“Nothing. Well, not nothing, but it’s going to be fine. I promise,” he assured me.
All my fears, all my trepidations forced me into the chair by the door. “Please explain.”
“When they did the MRI several days ago, the tumor appeared a little weird. Most times benign—noncancerous—tumors are well defined. Cancerous tumors, however, are not.” His eyes drifted shut as he spoke, but he kept talking. “My tumor was mostly defined, but part of it was a little off, if you will.” He settled deeper into the bed, clearly drowsy. Taking a deep breath, he continued.
“When they got inside, they removed the tumor and discovered it was premalignant, or precancerous, which is kind of what they thought in the first place.”
“Cancer.” I dropped back in the chair, shaking.
His eyes popped open. “Lilah, precancerous. They’ve embedded what are called radiation seeds into the tumor’s cavity. It will kill off any residual precancerous cells.”
I could barely hear him over the swooshing of blood in my ears as my heart pounded.
“You’ll need to stay away from me for forty-eight hours. While Port Fare General’s protocol is only twenty-four hours, I’ve researched this a bit and some studies suggest forty-eight. With you, I’m erring on the side of caution. That also means you can’t stay long today. Sorry,” he said, his mouth turning down.
Cole opened his notebook, pushing it down the bed toward me. “I drew this. The whole thing is quite ingenious, really. The internal radiation is called Brachytherapy, and it has few side effects. It’s delivered right where it’s needed. Like I said, ingenious.”
My gaze dropped to his drawing of a brain, along with the vintage Cole notations surrounding it. I picked up the drawing, forcing my mind to get in control.
“So these seeds will kill off any cancer and you’ll be okay?” I arched my brow in doubt.
“Yes. They should.”
“Should?” I asked hesitantly.
“I’ll need to have scans done regularly for a while to make sure, but the prognosis is excellent.” He smiled as his eyes drifted shut again. “Lilah, they did it this way instead of taking tissue so I’d retain my full brain function. I remember everything. I remember you.”
I stepped toward him, desperate to wrap myself around him, only he held up his hand, reminding me. “How long before I can touch you again?” I asked.
“Tomorrow, four o’clock,” he scowled.
“Fine, tomorrow at four you have a date in my arms.” His sleepy eyes met mine in agreement. “You need to get some sleep.” I set the notebook down. “I’ll be back later.”
“Sorry. It’s the radiation. A side effect is drowsiness.” He lowered the head of his bed ‘til he was almost flat. “I’ll try and get a short nap in before Booker comes at noon. He’s not going to take the news well either.”
I stood at the door and watched his weary body relax into sleep, wanting desperately to touch him. As his breaths fell into the soft rhythm of sleep, I tiptoed to his side and kissed his cheek. “I love you.” I stroked his jaw once and left. I hurried to my car and drove directly to my apartment, immediately Googling “precancerous cells and Brachytherapy” on my phone when I got inside.
Chapter 33
Cole wouldn’t allow anyone to stay longer than ten minutes per visit, and only two visits per day at that. Overkill, if you ask me. His surgeon stopped in while I savored my first ten minutes of the day with him. When she mentioned that maybe Cole’s restrictions were a bit extreme, he rattled off several studies he’d read on about Brachytherapy and the recommended precautions after surgery.
“I see,” she said, a crooked smile on her lips. “It appears that the surgery didn’t affect your memory.”
“Nope, not at all.” He grinned at me, squeezing my hand. “Now, kiss me goodbye, Lilah. You’ve been here for eleven minutes.”
I gently kissed his still battered face and left for his house. I hoped to have the painting completely done and the furniture ordered over the next three days. I wanted to have everything in place when he arrived home. Maggie came by after her micro-visit with Cole to help finish the painting.
“Sorry I couldn’t help yesterday,” she said, wiping at a paint dribble with a rag. “Booker didn’t do well after hearing about Cole. I didn’t want to leave him alone. Seth has exams so he can’t miss school.”
“Booker’s hard to figure out. To me, he’s a cold, ruthless man, but when I hear you talk about him, I start to believe maybe he has a heart after all. Very confusing.”
“Book’s a tease. He also has a short temper, but he’s a kind, giving man, too,” she said softly, adding, “He’s also extremely overprotective. A lioness protecting her cubs has nothing on Booker.”
“I guess,” I replied, though my suspicion still held; Booker would never get past my DNA. I gathered the brushes and rinsed them in the kitchen sink when we finished painting.
At three forty-five, I drove to the hospital. With no more time constraints, I could hardly wait to see Cole. I jogged down the corridor and straight to Cole’s room, bumping into Dr. Maxwell as she came out.
“Hello, Dr. Maxwell.”
“I’m sorry, Lilah, but no visitors today.” She escorted me to the nurse’s station. “And it’s Allegra, remember?”
“Why can’t I see him?” I asked, crossing my arms over my stomach.
“There’s been a small setback with Cole. His brain’s swelling somewhat. We put him on steroids and are monitoring him closely, but for now we’re not allowing visitors.” She patted my arm.
“Swelling? Isn’t that dangerous?” I choked out.
“It can be. Lilah, Cole’s young and healthy, and the tumor was very small. I have no reason to believe he won’t recover completely,” Allegra assured me. “If we have to, we can reopen the skull to allow the brain to swell, but again, we have him on steroids. More often than not, it solves the problem.”
Reopen the . . . My eyes jumped to the glass surrounds of his room. The curtains were drawn around him for the first time. “Why are the curtains closed if it’s no big deal?”
“I did that. Since Cole’s a doctor here and people like to think of their doctor as invincible, I didn’t want this to hurt Cole’s practice,” she explained.
“Honest?”
“Yes. Come.” She walked me to Cole’s room. “If you promise to stay for only a minute, you can go in.”
“Thank you.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I crept quietly to the bedside. Cole didn’t budge. His eyes were more swollen than yesterday, as were his cheeks. I took his hand in mine and gently squeezed it, before bringing it to my lips.
Allegra squeezed my shoulder, signaling that I needed to leave. I nodded and followed her out.
“Thank you,” I said weakly, before sprinting to the stairwell. I darted down two flights before sinking onto the deserted steps, sobbing uncontrollably. Out of nowhere an arm wrapped itself around my shoulders. I jerked my head up, stunned to see Booker. His pale, drained face reflected how I felt.
“I spoke to the surgeon a few moments before you arrived,” he explained. “I waited, figuring you’d take the news hard and would need a shoulder.”
“Comfort for me, coming from you?” I said, taking the handkerchief he offered me. “Is this a ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ moment?”
He shrugged. “I was thinking more an ‘any port in a storm’ moment. Whatever you want to call it, here it is.”
I fell back on his shoulder, accepting the temporary truce he offered. It took a while, but I managed to rein myself in. I stood, fighting the temptation to hand him his soggy hankie back, but decided to play nice. I tucked it in my purse. “I’ll wash this and return it.”
He nodded. “Cole’s a resilient guy. He’ll get through this.” Instead of sounding reassuring, he came across as unsure, scared even.
“Yes, he is,” I replied. “You should know, when my father calls again, I’ve decided to tell him I’m out, and that I won’t help him. Cole doesn’t need—”
“No! If you cut him off, we lose our only chance at catching him. Or is that your plan, Delilah?” His eyes turned cold. The compassion they held only seconds ago disappeared. Hate and distrust took its place. “You want to give him the heads up so he’ll know we’re on to him?”
“I’m tired of my lack of privacy, Gatto. I can’t even have a nervous breakdown in a damp stairwell without you knowing.” I took the soiled hankie out of my purse. “If this mission of yours to catch my father hinders Cole’s recovery in anyway, I’m coming after you.” I glared into his eyes. “That’s right, I just threatened you. Arrest me or get out of my way.” I tossed the hankie at him as I made my way down the stairs to the door. “Clean that yourself.”
For two days Cole fought not only brain swelling, but a fever. I visited faithfully, standing at his window in the ICU. The nurses kindly pulled the drapes apart for me whenever I came so I could see him, even though he slept most of the time.
Once Cole turned to the window and I waved, but he’d just blinked slowly and turned away. Maggie and Seth came to visit him often also. “How’s he doing today?” Maggie asked.
“About the same. They’re giving him something new,” I said, pointing to the yellow IV bag the nurse just hung.
“His face doesn’t look as swollen,” Seth pointed out, doing his best to keep everyone’s spirits up, but it didn’t help. I feared for Cole’s life.
Booker only came to see him at night, wanting to avoid another run-in with me, according to Maggie. I should’ve felt guilty, but I didn’t.
Daddy hadn’t called, which was a good thing because I planned on following through with my threat. Seth eventually talked me out of it, explaining how the MET had spent three years trying to catch him and felt this was their only hope. He also apologized for Booker. “This drug stuff makes him a little crazy is all.”
Yeah, whatever. I didn’t want to waste another minute talking about Booker.
I woke early on Wednesday and jogged over to Cole’s house, walking through the empty rooms in hopes of feeling his presence. Booker’s progress upstairs astounded me. He’d framed in four bedrooms along with the bathroom, and he’d hung all the sheetrock. Between his late night visits with Cole and his job, I had no idea how he’d gotten so much done unless he’d given up sleeping.
I jogged back to my apartment to shower, slipping on my pink capris as I dressed. They were Cole’s favorite. Maybe they’d bring us luck today.
I arrived at the ICU, passing a guy dressed in scrubs pushing a gurney, with what looked to be a dead body under a sheet. I stepped back out of the way as he rolled by. Creepy.
A nurse called out to him as he cleared the doorway. “Take him straight to the morgue, Randy. They’re waiting.”
“Will do.” Randy playfully saluted. “Like I’m going to take the guy dancing instead,” he said to me with a chuckle. He had a point.
I went directly to Cole’s room, stopping dead in front of the windows. The curtains were pulled back, his bed empty.
I wheeled around. The gurney.
“Lilah, good to see you.” Allegra sat behind the desk writing something down.
“Doc . . . Allegra—”
“Here’s Cole’s new room number.” She handed me a slip of paper. “You’ll be happy to know his fever broke late last night and the brain swelling has resided as of this morning.”
I resisted the urge to grab the poor woman and give her a great big kiss. “Thank you.” I headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I knocked on the door to room 723 and gently pushed it open. A huge smile claimed my face. Cole sat doodling in his notepad next to the window. He stood slowly and we met in the middle, both of us holding each other tight.
“I’ve been so worried.” I stroked his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, and buried my face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him.
“Lilah, I need to sit. I’m still pretty weak.”
I held his arm as he carefully backed up to his chair. The smile never left my face. “Do you know how long you’ll be here?” I asked, setting a chair next to him and sitting.
“Not sure. Three, maybe four days.” He took my hand and held it tight.
“You look really good,” I lied. The swelling around his eyes had decreased, but the right side of his face still carried bruises and puffiness.
“I don’t look bad for a guy who’s just had brain surgery, you mean,” he chuckled.
“Maggie and I finished painting the rooms in your house. It looks amazing. And Booker’s done a ton of work upstairs. I doubt the guy’s slept.”
Cole frowned at the floor. “That’s not good.”
I turned his downward face to me. “No negative thoughts. Trust me, Booker’s just fine. He had no trouble harassing me the other day,” I pointed out. “Maybe later . . . after you’ve had a nap,” I said as he yawned, “we can go online and do some furniture shopping. I want your home to be all ready for you when you get out. But only if you’re up to it.”
“I’d like that. My house will finally be a home.”
I helped him into bed and covered him to his chin with the sheet, and then sat in the chair next to him and watched while he slept, never letting go of his hand.
“Hi, Cole.” Maggie set a vase of flowers on the deep window sill next to Cole’s bed. “Please don’t scare us like that again.”
Seth stepped over to Cole and cautiously hugged him. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” he said.
“Thanks. Sorry to scare everyone. I’m just glad I don’t have to take any more pain pills. Those things are wicked. It took all my energy to focus on those three drawings this morning.” He pointed to the pad on his bedside table.
“You drew three things before I got here today?” I said, reaching for the pad.
“You can’t look at that, Lilah.” Cole slapped his hand down on the pad, and then immediately handed it to Seth. “I finished the thing we talked about before my surgery. Since I’ll be here for a few days will you take care of this for me?” Cole asked, all secretive.
&
nbsp; “You bet.” Seth tucked the pad under his arm. “I’d better get going. My last final is in an hour.” He kissed Maggie. “I’ll take care of this after class,” he promised Cole.
“Rather cryptic,” I said, sitting on the side of the bed.
Before he could respond, Booker flew into the room. He walked up to Cole and hugged him tight. His face was drawn, and the dark circles I noticed under his eyes the other day were now purple.
“You look awful,” Cole chastised.
“Hey, that’s my line,” he chuckled. “You’ll do anything to keep from using power tools, won’t you?”
“Lilah said you’ve done quite a bit upstairs. Not sleeping again?” Cole pressed.
“I will tonight,” he beamed.
“Thanks, Book.”
Booker shrugged. “So, Magpie, how you holding up?”
“Better than you. I’ve seen healthier looking hairballs.” She glared at him.
“Thank you. You look lovely also.”
Booker turned to me. “Hello, Delilah,” he said with a slight grin. For a second I’d forgotten about our fake truce. Remembering, I smiled back.
“It’s Lilah,” Cole said.
“Whatever,” Booker said under his breath.
Maggie grabbed my arm. “I’m taking Lilah for some lunch downstairs. Booker, can you stay for a bit?” She didn’t wait for an answer.
“I’ll come back afterward and we can look at furniture online,” I said to Cole as Mags dragged me away.
“Are you all right?” I asked Maggie as we headed the elevators.
“Sorry, I didn’t want Booker treating you poorly in front of Cole. He doesn’t need that right now.”
“Funny thing. Booker approached me the other day about declaring a truce. He’s afraid our animosity might impede Cole’s recovery,” I explained, living out the gritty details.
“Really?” We stepped into the elevator and Maggie pressed the lobby button. “Sounds like he needs to try a little harder,” she said, disappointment in her voice.
“I couldn’t agree more.” I leaned my head back against the elevator wall as the doors closed. But it ain’t gonna happen.
Unbelievable Page 28
