by Nicole Ellis
Kyle shook his head. “No. Jace doesn’t have autism. He’s just a quirky kid.”
Cassie pressed her lips together. She’d known this wasn’t going to be easy. “This hasn’t changed anything about him.”
“I know. Because he doesn’t have autism.” He raised his jaw and locked eyes with her.
She sighed. “Whether you believe it or not, this is a good thing. Now our insurance will pay for some of the occupational and behavioral therapies for him.”
“How much is that going to cost me?” he grumbled.
Cassie would have been angry with his reaction, but she saw the tears glistening in his eyes. This wasn’t easy for him to accept.
“I need to look into it, but we’ll figure it out. I need to find out if there are some accommodations that the school can make to help him learn too.”
“He’s a smart kid. Why does he need accommodations?” Kyle asked.
She mentally counted to three before responding, but she couldn’t keep the snarkiness out of her words. “He is smart, but he has trouble keeping up with the other kids because things move so fast. If you’d ever attended any of his parent-teacher conferences, you’d know he’s struggling at school.”
Kyle’s spine stiffened. “I have a job I have to be at during the day.”
“So do I, but I make the time.” She stared back at him, not backing down. He looked out the window, then back at her. She held her breath, wondering what he’d say.
His eyes closed briefly, then opened as he nodded at her, seeming to recognize for the first time everything she did. “That you do. So, what do we do now?”
She stood, picking up the stack of brochures Mary had given her from where she’d set them on the counter, and laid them out in front of her ex-husband. “Now we move forward.”
8
Zoe
Zoe got to the hospital early Tuesday morning and settled into a chair in the surgical waiting room with a book and a traveler mug of coffee. She’d hoped to see Celia before she went into surgery, but the nurse in charge told her Celia was still unconscious and unable to receive visitors before her surgery. Zoe was so on edge that even a book by her favorite author wasn’t able to distract her from worrying about everything going on in her life.
It was too early to call Joan yet to let her know she wouldn’t be in to work, so that unsavory task hung over her. The nurse said they should have some news about Celia’s condition in about four hours. Shawn Curtin hadn’t called her back, but after the disastrous phone call the night before, she wouldn’t be surprised if he never did. She wasn’t sure what that meant in terms of Celia’s care.
With Celia’s accident and everything going on at work, Zoe felt like her carefully planned life had been tossed into chaotic and unknown territory, and all she could do was to wait and see how things turned out.
At eight o’clock, she got up from her seat and walked down to the cafeteria, where the cell phone reception was better. When she called Joan, the phone rang several times, but there was no answer. Zoe left a short message stating she wouldn’t be in that day and hung up, then returned to the waiting room. It would have been better to talk to Joan in person, but by now, Joan must know that Zoe had been passed over for the promotion. It was a relief to not have to discuss it with her right then.
A few more hours passed, and a middle-aged man dressed in blue scrubs came through the swinging doors from the OR. “Zoe Tisdale?” His eyes searched the room.
She held her hand in the air as she stood. “I’m Zoe.” She took a few steps forward, trying to judge Celia’s condition from his demeanor, but his face was poker-straight and didn’t give her much to go on. Chills ran up her spine. Was Celia okay?
When she neared him, he said, “I’m Dr. Fyfe. We just finished Mrs. James’s surgery, and she’ll be heading to recovery soon.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. If nothing else, Celia was still alive. “Thank you.”
He smiled at her, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “She did well in surgery, but she’s not out of the woods yet. She appears to have hit her head pretty hard when she fell, and she’s still in a coma.”
Zoe stared at her shoes, then looked back up at him. “Do you know when she might come out of it?”
He shook his head. “The brain is a tricky thing. It could be hours, or it could be days or months.” His voice became gentler. “You need to know that there’s also the possibility that she may never awaken.”
Zoe bit her upper lip to hold back tears. “How likely is that?”
“We really don’t know. Only time will tell.” He glanced back at the swinging doors. “I’d better get back, but if you have any more questions, please don’t hesitate to ask the doctors in charge of Mrs. James’s care. You should be able to see her in about two hours when they have her settled in a room. Now would be a great time to grab some lunch or something.”
Zoe nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to let me know how she’s doing.” Her lip quivered. “I feel so helpless.”
He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. “It’s normal to feel that way. Mrs. James is lucky to have you in her corner though.” He turned and strode back through the doors.
Zoe collected her belongings and went home to check on Pebbles. He was happy to see her but still searching for his mistress. She put him on a leash and took him for a walk. Pebbles bounced eagerly down the rickety stairs to the beach and immediately nosed at every rock, stick, and piece of seaweed he could find.
She watched the dog roaming the beach, the leash extended as far as it could go. Everything seemed new to him, which made sense because it would have been difficult for Celia to navigate the stairs to the beach. While he played, she took the time to really look at the inn.
It must have been beautiful when it was open. She knew Celia couldn’t handle running it as an inn anymore, but it was a shame for such a gorgeous place to not be shared with more people. Zoe knew she was lucky to have the opportunity to live on the grounds.
She spotted her cottage, barely visible from where she sat on a beach log. Even if she woke up soon, Celia would likely need to stay in a rehabilitation center as she recovered from her broken leg and hip. What would that mean for the Inn – or for Zoe’s cottage? Would she have to move?
Her stomach churned. The thought was selfish, but she couldn’t help it. It was sour icing on a rotten cake to be faced with losing not only a long-awaited promotion, but possibly also her home and a good friend, all at the same time.
Pebbles barked, breaking Zoe away from her mental spiral. She stood and breathed in the salty air. Worrying wasn’t helping anything. “What’s up, boy?” She walked closer to where he stood, fixated on something in the trees.
She followed his gaze. A squirrel leapt from one branch to another in a tall maple tree, sending a leaf floating to the ground. Pebbles barked again and tugged at the leash.
Zoe laughed. “Sorry, buddy.” She glanced at her watch. There was just enough time before Celia was allowed visitors for Zoe to get Pebbles back, grab a sandwich at her cottage, and head back to the hospital.
As she filled Pebbles’s water bowl and gave him some food, her phone beeped to let her know she’d received a text message.
My flight arrives at six tonight. I’ll give you a call when I get to the hospital. ~ Shawn
She re-read the text, unconvinced that she’d read it correctly the first time. He was actually coming. Zoe knew almost nothing about the man, but somehow the thought that he’d arrive soon was comforting. At least she wouldn’t be alone in making decisions about Celia’s welfare.
The elevator ride to the seventh floor seemed interminably long. Zoe watched as the numbers flashed by, hardly noticing the other passengers as they got on and off. When the indicator light finally reached the number seven and the doors opened, she stepped out into the hallway and scanned the room numbers next to each door to get her bearings. It looked like room 732 was just a few doors down from the el
evator lobby.
Zoe walked along the speckled vinyl floors, stopping in front of Celia’s room. The door was ajar, and the room was quiet. It didn’t appear as though any doctors or nurses were in there with her. A rustling noise behind her caught her attention, and she turned to see a woman wearing dark purple scrubs standing behind her. An ID tag hung from a lanyard around her neck, but Zoe couldn’t quite make out her name.
“Did you need any help?” the woman asked.
Zoe’s eyes darted to Celia’s room. “I was hoping to visit Celia James. I believe this is her room?”
The woman smiled at her. “You’ve got the right place. The doctor just left. Are you family?”
“I’m probably the closest thing to family she has,” Zoe said.
“Well, the doctor will be by soon, and you’ll have a chance to talk to him then.”
Zoe smiled at her gratefully. “Thank you. Is it okay if I go in?”
“Sure, go ahead. She hasn’t woken up yet, but I personally feel like it’s good for people to talk to their loved ones who are in a coma. I think they know when people are around them.”
Zoe entered Celia’s room and stopped about five feet away from the bed. A strong odor of antiseptic pervaded every space in the hospital, including this one. Other than that, though, it was a comfortable single room with a sleeper sofa and a large picture window overlooking the farmlands behind the campus.
She moved closer. Celia lay under a mound of blankets, her petite figure seeming smaller and more fragile than usual. Her fluffy white hair and pale skin blended in with the starched pillowcase.
Zoe opened the two folding chairs that had been stacked against the wall and placed them next to the bed. She put her purse on one and sat on the other, reaching for Celia’s hand. The elderly woman’s wrinkled fingers were chilly on the outside of the blanket. Zoe wasn’t sure if she was hoping for a miracle, but Celia didn’t respond when Zoe squeezed her hand.
What should she say to her? Was the nurse correct about comatose patients being able to hear? If so, Celia didn’t need to hear about Zoe’s lost promotion. That kind of bad news could wait until Celia woke up and was healthy again.
She gazed at the older woman’s face. Celia’s breath came out of her pale lips in little puffs of air as Zoe launched into a tale about a particularly obnoxious bride-to-be. It was probably her imagination, but it made Zoe feel better to think that she’d seen the corners of Celia’s lips turn up at the funniest part of the story.
When she finished, she got up and walked to the window. “Hey, Celia, you’ve got a great view from here. I can even see the tulip fields. I know how much you love the tulips. You’ll have to wake up soon or you’ll miss seeing them bloom.”
It felt weird to be talking to someone who didn’t react. She glanced at her watch. It was one o’clock. Shawn wasn’t due to arrive for over five more hours.
Zoe picked up her tablet and tried to get back into the e-book she’d been reading. She was a few pages in when the door opened, and a short man wearing a long white coat over light-blue scrubs entered the room.
He consulted his clipboard, then held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Doctor Maize. Are you Zoe Tisdale?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Great. One of my colleagues notified me that there was someone here visiting Mrs. James, and I thought I’d check in with you.”
She wasn’t sure whether she should stay seated or get up. She opted to turn her chair sideways so she could face him, but still remain close to Celia’s side.
The doctor moved to the other side of Celia’s bed and quickly took stock of all of the monitors. He nodded and made a note on his clipboard. “It looks like Mrs. James is recovering nicely from her surgery.”
“Do you know when she might wake up?” Zoe asked.
He smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. These things aren’t terribly predictable.”
Her heart sank. It was the same thing the surgeon had told her earlier.
“So, she might be here for weeks or months?”
“We aren’t sure at this point, but as soon as she’s in a stable condition and able to be released, we can move her to a rehabilitation facility where she’ll be more comfortable. Even if she wakes up, she’ll need time to recuperate from her surgery.”
“Oh.” Zoe’s mind raced. She didn’t know anything about Celia’s insurance or what it would cover.
He held up his hand. “I know you’re probably worrying about what comes next, but let’s just take it one step at a time. Okay?”
She sighed and nodded her head. Maybe Shawn would have some answers about Celia’s insurance. From what he’d said last night, though, she seriously doubted he had any sort of relationship with Celia and most likely wouldn’t be much help.
The doctor eyed the door, but smiled at her kindly. “Did you have any other questions for me?”
Questions? She had hundreds, but she needed to get some information from Shawn before she proceeded. “I don’t have any right now, but I’m sure I will have plenty later.”
He nodded briskly. “I’ll be back in about two hours to check on her, and, of course, the nurses will be keeping an eye on her as well. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you. I will.”
He hustled out of the room, the tails of his jacket billowing out behind him with each stride. She was alone again with her thoughts.
“Did you hear that, Celia? I’m hoping you’re going to wake up soon, but until you do, I’ll make sure they take good care of you.”
Celia’s chest rose up and down rhythmically, and her monitors didn’t reflect any reaction to her or the doctor talking. She forced her attention back to her book. The hours ticked by slowly, but she was still surprised when her phone rang with a number that looked familiar.
“Zoe? It’s Shawn Curtin. My flight just landed in Seattle, but I realized that we never made any firm plans for when I arrived.
“Oh. Hi. I was wondering when you’d call,” she stammered. Something about him unnerved her, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m planning on catching the airport shuttle up to Willa Bay, but should I come directly to the hospital, or is there a different location that would be better?”
She checked her watch. It was rush hour and Seattle’s freeways would be clogged and unpredictable. “How about you meet me at the hospital. I’m in Celia’s room – room seven-three-two. When you get here, you can visit with her, and we can make a plan for her care.”
“Visit with her? Does that mean she’s awake now?” Excitement tinged his voice.
Her heart stopped for a moment. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” It hadn’t been her intention to get his hopes up. “No, she’s still not awake. Surgery went well though.”
“Oh. Good to hear that,” he said, then added quickly, “The surgery part, not the other.”
She chuckled. “I knew what you meant. It should take you about two or three hours to get up here, so I might step out and get a bite for dinner. I won’t leave the hospital, though, so just give me a call if I’m not here.”
She heard people shuffling around him.
“Looks like we’re unloading now, so I’d better get going. See you soon.”
“You too.” They hung up, and Zoe studied the older woman, once again wondering about her mysterious connection with Shawn. It felt a little intrusive to meet a relative of an incapacitated person, but at this point Zoe didn’t really have any other choice.
Zoe finished eating the dry turkey sandwich from the cafeteria that she’d brought back to Celia’s room and washed it down with a swig of Diet Coke. She stood to throw the wrapper away and heard footsteps outside the door. It was time for the nurse to check in on Celia, so Zoe threw her garbage in the can without looking at the door.
However, instead of the nurse, it was a man who appeared to be in his late thirties, with close-cropped, dark-brown hair. He was tall, probably close to six feet, a
nd wore a navy-blue zip-up jacket over well-worn denim jeans.
He eyed the bed but didn’t approach Celia immediately. “Is this Celia James’s room?” His words held a hint of a Southern drawl that she found intriguing.
“Yes, this is Celia’s room.” She peered at him. Was this Shawn? And if so, why didn’t he recognize Celia?
He walked toward her, limping slightly, and held out his hand. “I’m Shawn Curtin.”
Zoe shook it. “Zoe Tisdale. Nice to meet you.”
He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and crossed over to stand about a foot away from Celia’s bed. “And this is Celia, I presume?”
Zoe watched him carefully. There was no tenderness in his expression, only clinical detachment like he was trying to place Celia. “Yes. How long has it been since you last saw each other?”
He continued scrutinizing the elderly woman’s face, then turned to Zoe. “As far as I know, we’ve never met.”
Zoe stepped back. “Never?” How was that even possible? Why would Celia have listed him as her emergency contact if they’d never met?
He shrugged. “Nope.”
“Okay …” she said slowly. “Then how are you related?”
His eyes locked with hers. “Honestly, I have no idea if we are even related.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. Shawn wasn’t going to be much help with Celia’s personal affairs. Who was this guy? And why hadn’t Elizabeth told her that Shawn didn’t know Celia?
“So, you flew out here to see an unconscious woman whom you’d never met before?” She looked between him and Celia, hoping to see a familial resemblance.
He shrugged again and shuffled his feet. “It sounded like it was important for me to be here.” He paused for a moment. “I think we’re related somehow. I once heard my parents arguing about someone named Celia, but they never mentioned her again. I’ve always been curious about her identity.” He moved even closer to the hospital bed and gestured to Celia. “If I’m listed as this woman’s emergency contact, I’m going to connect the dots here and say my parents were talking about her.”
