Never Expected Love

by S. M. Stryker

  There's a tap at the door as Mitchell pokes his head in.

  "Come on in, Mitchell." He walks in and pulls up a chair next to me.

  "Any changes?"

  "No, we're just waiting for him to remember to open his eyes. How are you doing? You look like shit."

  "I'm doing, didn't sleep very well last night. Yesterday dredged up a lot of my past. Throw in a night terror and that's how my night went."

  "Hell Mitchell, you shouldn't have been alone."

  "I wasn't, but I almost pushed her away after the nightmare. I'm not used to this communication shit, and as a child, I learned to never show any type of emotion or weakness, or you were bullied about it."

  "Where you able to explain it to her?"

  "Yes, but not without hurting her feelings first."

  "I think you are trying to do the right thing, and I think she sees that. I know she cares about you and as long as you both work at it together you will get through it."

  "Thanks, Richard. I figured I would sit here and work so I can be close just in case. Ya know."

  "I know that Beckett would like it. He always looked at you as a brother."

  The day drags on, and there are still no signs of life from Beckett other than the machines that are still beeping and blipping away, their lights flashing and lines jerking up and down. This is all just a clusterfuck. The doctor comes in and checks on him, he doesn't seem worried at all. But holy hell I am. Harlow hasn't left his side. I don't even know that she's used the bathroom. But then again, I guess I haven't used it too much either. I don't want to leave him. I would never forgive myself if something happened to him, and I wasn't here.

  Mitchell gets a call and leaves to take it in the waiting room, and when he returns he says his goodbyes.

  Again, I wake with a stiff neck. I stretch it out, walk to the bathroom to splash water on my face and rinse my mouth out. When I come out of the bathroom, Mitchell is setting up the table with a large container of coffee, orange juice, a couple boxes of assorted pastries, and bagels with cream cheese.

  "Hey, how's he doing? Any changes?" Mitchell asks in a hushed voice.

  "No, nothing." Mitchell and I step away from the bed and out of Harlow’s earshot.

  "How's Harlow holding up?"

  "She has her moments. I don't think she's stepped away from his bed for more than five minutes, just long enough to use the restroom."

  "Has she eaten anything?"

  "No, I've tried to get her to eat, but she won't leave his side."

  "Can you see if Nicole can bring her some clean clothes and maybe some toiletries?" Mitchell asks.

  "I'll call her. She is supposed to be stopping by today."

  "How about you? Have you eaten a meal or slept at all?"

  "No, but I've slept in the chair a little, off and on. I just can't leave him."

  "I get it, but if neither of you rests, how are you going to take care of him?"

  We both glance over at Harlow. She almost looks like a homeless drug addict with dark circles under her eyes, pale skin, greasy hair, and wrinkled clothes that look like she's worn them for a month. Mitchell walks over to her and pulls up a chair.

  "Harlow?" She slowly turns to look up at Mitchell as a tear falls down her cheek. He reaches up and wipes it away. She's holding Beckett's hand. He places his hand on top of theirs. In a low, quiet voice, he says, "You have to take care of yourself, Harlow. If you don't, you will get sick, and you won't be able to take care of him."

  "Mitchell, I can't leave him. I just got him back." More tears slide down her face.

  "I know that, but how is that going to help him if you can't care for him? You know him well enough to know that he wouldn't want you to sit here, not taking care of yourself. Have you eaten or even drank anything in the last couple days?"

  Harlow looks down and shakes her head as tears fall onto her lap.

  "Harlow..." he takes her in his arms as she sobs.

  "Mitchell, what am I going to do? What happens if he...? If he...?"

  "Harlow, you know he's strong, he's a fighter, and he will do whatever it takes to get back to you." He pushes her away lifting her chin to look into her face and brushes her tears away again. "Harlow, you have to be strong for him, and you can't do that if you haven't taken care of yourself. You have to keep up your energy because when he wakes up and sees you the way you look right now, he'll kick my ass for not taking care of you."

  Harlow softly chuckles. "I would love to see that. Beckett doesn't know how to fight."

  "You would be surprised what your man can do. Now, I brought in some food from your bakery along with some juice, water, and coffee. I expect both you and Richard to eat, understand?" He looks over at me to make sure I heard him, too. I nod my head in agreement.

  He kisses Harlow on the forehead and walks out of the room, pulling out his phone.

  Mitchell re-enters the room and sits on the end of the bed. He pulls out his computer and checks to see if there are any more leads on Brad.

  "Is there anything?"

  "No, I know that he is going to start to get desperate after what happened.

  It's around noon when Mitchell receives a call and leaves the room. When he returns, Nicole is with him. Is she ever a welcome sight? Mitchell has a couple duffle bags and a bag full of sandwiches and salads. He sets the bag of clothes on the floor and the bag of food on the side table.

  Nicole walks over to Harlow and gives her a big hug before heading over to me, giving me a much-needed hug and kiss from her sweet lips.

  Mitchell walks over to Harlow, laying his hand on her shoulder as she looks up at him. "You need to eat, and then you need to take a shower."

  "Okay, Mitchell. Thank you."

  He hands Harlow a sandwich.

  "The same goes for you, Richard."

  "I'll shower now, and then Harlow can."

  I pick up my bag and walk into the bathroom. When I've finished, I walk out almost feeling like my old self, just a little tired in the eyes.

  Mitchell walks over to Harlow. "Are you going to be okay, or do you want Nicole in there to help you?"

  "I'll be fine."

  Harlow starts to stand and loses her balance. "Sit back down," Mitchell says as he grabs her around the waist. "Nicole, can you hand me some of that orange juice, please?" Nicole hands Mitchell a bottle of orange juice as he helps Harlow sit back down. Handing it to Harlow he says, "Drink all of it.” He walks over and grabs a bottle of Smart Water. "I want you to drink this, too. At least it has the electrolytes and minerals you need."

  Thirty minutes later, Harlow has a little more color in her face and is able to take her shower.

  Mitchell continues to work on his computer, as Nicole and I sit and talk about the kids and Sophia.

  Later that evening, I had just returned from walking Nicole to her car when Harlow grabs our attention.

  "Beckett, Oh My God! Beckett!" I hear Harlow raise her voice as Mitchell and I turn around.

  Beckett winces.

  "I'm sorry," she says, and then she proceeds to cover his face with kisses. "I'll be right back." Harlow runs into the hallway and announces, "He's awake! Beckett's finally awake!" She's almost jumping up and down with excitement.

  We're all chatting, the volume of our voices going up. We look over at Beckett, and he has his eyes closed and his hands over his ears. Mitchell puts his finger to his lips. The chatter stops and an eerie quiet fills the room as we all stare at Beckett. He slowly starts to open his eyes as a nurse walks into the room. She’s a tall, thin woman with silver hair that looks as if it used to be dark at one time. I have to smile at her scrubs, they're purple with smiley faces on them. "Hi. Do you know where you are?" the nurse asks.

  "Hospital."

  "Do you know your name?"

  "Beckett Dalton," his words come out in barely a whisper.

  "How are you feeling, Mr. Dalton?" She holds up a chart with different faces on it. He points to a face, then she turns the page over, and
he points to another picture. It's funny how times have changed, but I guess it makes sense; you can point to how you feel and the level of pain you are having.

  "Okay, let me get you something for that." She returns a few minutes later and puts something in his IV. Within minutes, his eyes close and he is either asleep or resting.

  God, it feels like I can breathe again. I send Nicole a text to let her know that Beckett woke up.

  Mitchell and I sit and talk while Harlow finally sleeps with her head on Beckett's hand. Although she hasn't left him the entire time he's been here, the shower she had earlier today has sure helped her. She’s finally getting food into her to help regain her strength. I’m grateful for Mitchell’s foresight and for Nicole for bringing clean clothes for Harlow and me to wear along with our toiletries, so at least we can brush our teeth and hair.

  Beckett doesn't wake up again through the night, and we are all worried that he has fallen back into the coma.

  In the morning, I make sure that Harlow gets her shower. With the leftover pastries and bagels, we have plenty of food. She looks a lot better today now that she's moving around a little more and has eaten.

  It's Monday afternoon and we have been sitting in this room all weekend when we catch movement. Beckett opens his eyes again and he reaches over and starts to stroke Harlow's long blonde hair. "Shhh, it's okay, don't cry my Harlow girl, shhh, don't cry."

  With a big smile, Harlow whispers, "Beckett, BECKETT! Oh My God! Beckett!" She lays kisses all over his face as she runs her hand over his cheek, caressing it tenderly. He still has some bloody scabs from the shattering glass, but nothing that required stitches. "Baby." She leans forward, kissing his cheek. "You had me so scared."

  Mitchell and I quickly walk to his bedside.

  "Thirsty," Beckett says. Mitchell rushes out the door and returns with a nurse holding a pitcher of water in one hand and a glass on the other.

  "Mr. Dalton, take it real slow."

  Mitchell chuckles. So much for slow as he chugs it.

  She sits the pitcher down on the nightstand. "There's more in here when you get thirsty again. I am going to let your doctor know you're awake." Beckett nods at her, and then she leaves the room.

  "You had us pretty scared, Beckett," I say. Mitchell and I pull our chairs up to the side of the bed.

  Beckett looks at Harlow with concern on his face. "What day is it?"

  "It's Monday, man," Mitchell says. "You've been out for days."

  He looks at Harlow and she slowly nods at him, almost as if he doesn't believe Mitchell. He tries to sit up but winced from the pain.

  "Beck, lie down and use the controls," Harlow says as she picks up the bed controls and slowly raises the head of Beckett's bed.

  "Richard, you are supposed to be on your vacation."

  "What? You think I am going to leave when you're in a coma?"

  Beckett turns and looks at me. "A what?"

  "Yeah, Beckett, you have been in a coma since Friday night," Mitchell says.

  He turns and looks at Mitchell. "So tell me what happened," Beckett whispers.

  "Do you remember anything?" Mitchell asks.

  "Just bits and pieces."

  "You had dropped me off at my car, and we were driving to your house when all of a sudden a truck T-boned you, rolling the Jeep," Harlow starts. Her eyes start to fill with tears at the memory of the night. "I was about a half a block ahead of you when it happened. I pulled over and stopped as another car came and stopped beside my car," she whispers. "It was Brad. He was heading for me when Mitchell and Davis came running from their truck. Everything happened so fast."

  "Davis and I were behind you. We saw the truck slam into you, causing the Jeep to roll. I sped around you and was able to identify Brad as the driver of the truck before he sped away. Slamming the truck into park, we both jumped out. Davis ran to Harlow, opening the back door and pushing her inside. He got into the front seat and drove her away to safety. I ran to you and stayed by your side until the ambulance arrived. You had crawled out of the Jeep and stood up but then passed out."

  "So, who hit me? If Brad was waiting that could only mean it was a distraction, and Stacey was the one in the truck," Beckett says as he looks up at Mitchell.

  Harlow gasps. "Stacey... My Stacey?"

  "Yes, she was working with Brad. She had applied at our office for Raven's job. When we found out about Brad in our office, I found a notepad with Stacey's name on it. When you said you had just hired her, I told Mitchell so he could keep an eye on her when she was around you. It was one of those 'keep your enemies closer' situation. And before you say it, I didn't tell you because I wanted you to be yourself around her. I thought it would be too difficult for you if you knew. I'm sorry I kept that from you, but I wanted to see what she would do. We figured that, if she was so eager to get hired by one of us, he was getting ready to make his move." Beckett's voice is getting stronger. He reaches for the water and clears his throat as he drinks.

  "I may not like it, but I understand why you did it, and you're right. I probably would've blown it if I had known."

  Beckett nods. "So where is she now?"

  "The impact of the crash was so hard that it punctured your gas tank. Your Jeep was upside down, and the side windows were shattered. From what we've put together, Harlow tried to call you once they were on the road to make sure you were okay. Your phone was in the Jeep and as it rang, the electronics flashed a fire. She was unconscious from the impact but regained consciousness as the truck was engulfed in flames. Her doors were jammed from the impact. No one could get to her. The emergency vehicles hadn't arrived yet."

  "Oh, my God." Beckett looked up at Mitchell. "You pulled me clear," he said, more as a statement than a question. "Brad?"

  "As soon as Davis threw Harlow into the backseat, he ran. He had tried to open the passenger side door of Stacey's truck but couldn't. It didn't take long for the flames to consume the truck. The fire trucks arrived shortly after, but it was too late." Mitchell says.

  "What a waste. To be involved with someone like him and..." Are you okay?" Beckett asks Harlow.

  "Yes, I was pretty shaken up. As I said, things happened so fast. When I first saw the truck hit you, it was as if I was watching it in slow motion. I pulled over and started to run to you when Brad headed toward me. I think I was in shock, I couldn't move, I was just frozen there. I barely remember Davis pushing me into the backseat. I remember screaming… You were covered in blood." Tears start to run down her cheeks. Beckett reaches up to wipe them away.

  The door opens and Beckett's doctor walks in, reaching his hand out to shake Beckett's hand. He's the same man we met on Friday when Beckett was brought in. “Mr. Dalton, I am Dr. Peters. I've been attending to you while you've been with us. How are you feeling?"

  "Other than a headache and some sore muscles, I think I am doing well."

  "Good. As you might know, you have a pretty nasty concussion, so you will probably have that headache for a while. You also have several lacerations on the scalp. I am sure you are pretty sore. I'll have the nurse come in and take your catheter out." He looks at Harlow then back at the doctor. "It's standard procedure when someone is in a coma.

  "I saw the pictures on the news the other night. It's amazing the video these new phones can take. You're very lucky that you had someone there looking out for you. The person who hit you wasn't so lucky." The doctor looks at Mitchell then back at Beckett. "I want you to take it easy for the next couple of weeks. If your headaches start getting worse or you are getting nauseous, I want you to get back in as soon as possible. We've done a CAT scan and there is no bleeding in the brain, but, again, if they get worse, get back here immediately."

  “He just came out of a coma, and you're sending him home already?" Harlow asks.

  "We've done all we can. He regained consciousness yesterday. We've done a CAT scan that shows he's not bleeding in the brain. Other than the headaches and his minor cuts and scrapes, there isn't any medical r
eason to keep him here. And I am pretty sure that he would rather be at home than in this hospital bed."

  Beckett nods his head. "I'm not a big fan of hospitals."

  "I'll send the nurse in. We will get your discharge papers drawn up and ready for you to sign, and you'll be out of here. I want to see you in two weeks for a follow-up."

  "Thank you, Doctor," Beckett says.

  It isn't more than five minutes before the nurse walks in carrying a sterile package. I think this is the time for me to leave. The last thing I need to see is Beckett's junk. The nurse looks at Mitchell and me.

  "We'll step outside for this," I say, chuckling.

  Mitchell and I walk back into Beckett's room after the nurse leaves. We were still chuckling about the look on Beckett's face when the doctor told him about the catheter. Harlow is putting Beckett's shoes on as we walk in and sit down to wait for Beckett's discharge papers.

  A little while later, the nurse arrives with the papers. He signs them and we walk out.

  "I'm starving," Beckett says. I'm sure he is, he hasn't eaten since Friday night. "Why don't we all go out together? Richard, why don't you call Nicole?"

  "Hey, do you mind if I call Raven? That way I can kill two birds with one stone. Davis has been watching her, and he needs to be relieved."

  "No, not at all."

  "Raven has been worried about you. I talked to her Saturday to let her know what happened and that Davis would be watching her," Mitchell says.

  "She's a diamond in the rough. She ran the office today by herself. I am really glad she's with us," I say as I look from Mitchell to Beckett.

  "Why don't I go pick Raven up, and you pick up Nicole. We'll meet back over at Oswego Grill." Mitchell says to me.

  "Sounds good to me. I'll take Beckett and Harlow," I say.