by Curtis Bunn
Tamara stared at Elliott and nodded her head. The guy left and she slowly approached his bed. She placed her purse in a chair and reached the railing of the bed.
As if he sensed her presence—or someone’s presence—Elliott opened his eyes. Neither of them said anything for several seconds. Finally, Tamara said, “So you’re not dead?”
“They let anyone in here, I guess,” he said.
She smiled. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. The nurse said you have bruised ribs and a concussion.”
“It could be worse.”
“How did you get hurt? Chasing some young girl?” she joked.
“Cute,” he said.
She looked down at his hand to see him pushing the button to provide morphine.
“You’re in pain?”
“Take a guess,” Elliott replied.
“I’m your only visitor? When are you getting out of here?” Tamara said.
“Maybe tomorrow,” he answered. “My kids were here. And Lucy and—”
“Lucy?” Tamara said. “Who’s Lucy?”
“Ex-wife.”
Tamara knew right away that Lucy was the woman she had met in the bathroom, and she immediately became jealous. Her first instinct was to tell him that they had met. But she decided more could come out of holding back that information. Besides, Lucy told her that she still loved Elliott and wanted him back. That was not information she wanted Elliott to know.
“Okay, good,” she said. “I can’t stay long.”
“I’m sleepy,” Elliott said.
“Well, I won’t come back since your family will be here tomorrow, I’m sure,” she said. “Will you call me?”
“I will. Tamara. Thank you,” he said before again dozing off.
She rubbed his hand and stared at him as he slept. It was in that moment that she believed she had feelings for Elliott. She wanted him to get better and was sorry he was in distress. She concluded that meant she cared for him, not just about him.
When he got better, she was going to profess her interests in being more than a fuck-buddy. Their age difference was significant and it was real. But she enjoyed her time with him and she learned something each time they were together and that’s all she could ask for in a man.
Taking him around her family would be an issue. She knew that. So would introducing him around her coworkers and most of her friends. They would wonder if she had lost her mind. But she left the hospital saying to herself that she would figure that out later.
Elliott, meanwhile, woke up in the middle of the night scared. He dreamed he was back in prison, in the “hole,” which was solitary confinement in a space that was small, dingy, filthy and lonely. He had done three months in the hole in Lorton, and was traumatized by the isolation.
He told Henry once, “Three months in the hole is torture. Not like water boarding or sliding bamboo sticks under your fingernails. It’s mental. You lose some of who you are each day. You count the minutes, and the minutes move slower than any other time in your life. Getting out of the hole is like winning the prison lottery. A regular cell seems like a room at the Four Seasons.”
Dreaming of being in the hole and waking up with a busted head and ribs in a hospital room messed with Elliott. He got cold to the point of shivers, but was too foolishly proud to call a nurse for more covers.
He wanted to go back to sleep, but feared his previous dream would resume. So he lay there thinking of fun events in his life, with the hope that they would influence his dreams.
Elliott thought about dancing with Lucy at a New Year’s Eve party to bring in 2008. She wore a black dress accented with chiffon and he was distinguished in a tuxedo for the first time. The ballroom at the Mandarin Oriental in Buckhead was adorned with black and silver balloons. Champagne flowed. And around three hundred people—mostly couples—partied in high style.
He brought that night to the forefront of his mind because it was one of their most fun times together. The kids were at Lucy’s sister’s home, and he and Lucy had a room at the hotel, meaning they could get sloppy drunk if they wanted and stumble their way to the elevator and go to their room.
When midnight came, he kissed Lucy with such passion and love that she was astonished. “You either love me or you’re glad it’s a new year,” she said.
“I love you,” Elliott told her.
They shut down the party, dancing so hard that they both left the ballroom with their shoes in their hands. Before they hit the elevator button, he grabbed his wife by her arm and led her to the men’s room.
“Are you serious?” she said. “Elliott. What are you doing?”
He made sure the room was empty and he turned Lucy around and pulled up her dress. She went with the flow and pulled down her thong and he unfastened his pants and let them fall to his ankles.
She leaned over so he could enter her and they had deep, passionate sex in the men’s bathroom of the hotel. They could have waited another three minutes to do so in their room upstairs. But the adventure provided a sexy edge that was far more memorable.
He almost managed a smile while reminiscing, and then fell back to sleep. It would be nearly 7 a.m. when he awoke, as the nurse took his blood pressure and the doctor came in to examine him.
Elliott’s head still hurt, but the pain was less intense. His ribs were really sore, making getting out of bed a chore.
“Doc, how long before the pain subsides in my ribs?” he said. “I’m scared to take a big breath.”
“It’s going to be that way for another day or so,” he said. “You’ll feel some gradual relief. But stay on top of the pain medicine to manage it as best you can.”
The doctor told him he could go home in the afternoon.
“What?” he said. “Doc, I have insurance. I’m not feeling like I’m ready to go home just yet. This isn’t a plush hotel, but with the pain I have, I’d rather be where I can be treated than at home.”
“Never heard of someone wanting to stay in the hospital,” he said.
Elliott was taken aback…and angry.
“Doc, forgive my French, but I don’t give a rat’s ass what you ever heard of,” he said. “I know I don’t have to go home when I don’t feel ready and you can’t rush me out. I know that’s what y’all do now. A woman has a baby at seven a.m. and you want her out of the hospital by seven p.m. Guy has hip replacement surgery and you try to get him out in two days. Bullshit like that.
“I ain’t going for it.”
“Calm down, Mr. Thomas,” Dr. Roland said. “You’re getting the wrong idea. Of course, if you’re not ready to go, you shouldn’t go. I wasn’t trying to rush you out. With the injuries you sustained, the usual time of discharge is after one night.”
“Hey, that’s all well and good,” Elliott said. His anger heightened the more he talked. “But—and maybe not you, but in general—these hospitals and insurance companies suck when it comes to customer service. You said it yourself: No one wants to stay in the hospital. So when someone says they’re not ready to go, he should not hear the doctor talking about he never heard of someone who wants to stay.”
Danielle stood in the doorway listening. She knocked on it before Dr. Roland could respond. “I see you’re doing better, Daddy,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Dr. Roland said. “Your father wants to stay another day and we’re going to accommodate him.”
“I didn’t say stay another day,” Elliott jumped in. “I said I wasn’t ready to go home today. That could mean tomorrow or it could mean next week. Either way, you’re getting paid so what’s the difference?”
“Daddy, I’m sure they don’t want to rush you out,” Danielle said. “If you’re ready to go, you should go. Someone else might need the room.”
“Well, there isn’t even someone in the bed next to me,” he said.
“That’s going to change,” Dr. Roland said. “Someone will be in here later this morning. Meanwhile, you seem to be doing much better. I will see y
ou a little later.”
When the doctor left, Danielle turned to her father. “I can’t believe you went off on him like that. He’s got to take care of you. It’s like being mean to the waiter at a restaurant. You wait until after you have your food before you start talking trash.”
Elliott laughed. Having his daughter there put him in a better mood. Their limited time over the years bothered him. Now here she was there first thing in the morning back at the hospital, looking after him.
“Why are you here so early?” he said.
“I don’t know,” Danielle said. “Well, partly because I remember when you were in the hospital before, dealing with cancer. You didn’t like to be alone.”
“I was scared to be alone then,” Elliott said. “I felt like if I didn’t feel well they might pull the plug on me. I needed someone there to say, ‘No, don’t give up on him.’ This time, I have a headache like you wouldn’t believe.”
“You probably made it worse by lecturing the doctor,” Danielle said.
“I’m hungry. Hospital food is one reason to go home,” he said. “But my ribs are so tender that I’m almost afraid to swallow.”
“Daddy, why did this happen?” Danielle asked. “This is crazy. And where were you going?”
“I was going home,” he said. “I was at the restaurant, STK. Some guy came up behind and blasted me.”
“I know, but why?” she asked. “The police said it was personal because he didn’t take any money or your phone or anything. And he kicked you after you were already knocked out.”
“You want me to explain why someone stupid does something?” Elliott said. “Why does someone rob a person with a gun, get the money or whatever it is they want, but still shoot the person? Who can explain that? No one. So I can’t explain why someone would knock me out, much less kick me when I’m unconscious.”
Danielle had not spent a lot of time with her father in recent years, but she remembered that he could become combative when pushed. She also knew that saying “Okay,” would slow him down.
“Was your mom here last night?” he asked.
“Yes,” Danielle said. “Mommy was here and Daniel and Mr. Henry. Do you remember anyone else?”
He remembered Tamara, too, and was worried that others had seen her. “That’s it? No one else?” he asked.
“Were you expecting someone else?” Danielle asked.
“No. Just asking,” he said.
“Mom is coming back this afternoon and then Daniel after he gets off work,” she said. “We’ve got it all planned out. Shifts. We know how you can get when you’re alone.”
“How was your mom? I mean, I haven’t seen her but just a few times since the divorce and she sees me like this?” he said. “I looked at myself in the mirror and I look like half a mummy.”
“Only for a few days, Daddy,” she said. “Mommy was upset, but the doctor made her feel better.”
“Do you know we were supposed to have lunch tomorrow?”
“That was the first thing you said to her when we got here,” Danielle said.
“What? Really? I don’t remember that,” Elliott said.
“I have a question: Why were you and Mommy going to lunch?” she asked. “I mean, I think it’s great. But it’s just a surprise. She doesn’t even ask about you. Now you’re going to lunch and she’s coming to see you at the hospital? What’s going on?”
“You’re asking me?” he said. “I called Daniel to ask what he knew yesterday. And—”
“You called him, but not me?” she said.
“You were getting a golf lesson, honey,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Anyway, you don’t know that she called me Sunday and texted me and asked me to lunch?” he said. “You didn’t know that?”
“No, and I would tell you if I did,” she said. “Maybe Mom is bored.”
“Ouch,” he said.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Danielle said. “I should have just said I don’t know.”
“It’s all right,” Elliott said. “You know me. I’m tough as nails.”
Danielle pulled up a chair and she and her dad talked and laughed and got along as if the time apart did not happen. Elliott’s head throbbed and his ribs hurt, but his heart was full. He loved his children, but there was that tender spot reserved for a daughter in a father’s heart.
“Daddy, I’m going to miss you when I go to London,” she said.
“Well, guess what?” Elliott responded. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve always wanted to go to London. I just never had a reason. Now, I do.”
Danielle smiled and her heart was full, too. She was the proverbial “Daddy’s girl,” and the family breakup had taken a significant toll on how she looked at him and their relationship. She witnessed how broken up her mother was, and decided she would help hold her up, that her father was strong enough to withstand the turmoil.
Daniel’s influence was strong, too. But Danielle never fully gave in to shutting off her father as if he did not exist. She secretly sent him postcards from college and letters and generally stayed in touch without it being apparent that she was.
“You’ve been a light for me,” Elliott said. “I know there was pressure to kick me to the curb. But you always did enough to let me know you’re still my little girl.”
“Always, Daddy,” she said and leaned over the rail to hug Elliott.
“Why don’t you get in the bed with him like you used to,” came the words from Lucy as she entered the room.
“Mommy, don’t hate,” Danielle said.
“Hate? I don’t want to be in the bed with him, okay?” she said.
Mother and daughter hugged.
“How’s the patient?” Lucy asked Danielle.
“He was a little grouchy at first,” Danielle said. “Woke up on the wrong side of the IV, I guess.”
“Very funny,” Elliott said. “But I’m over it now.”
Danielle explained to her mother Elliott’s frustration with feeling rushed to go home.
“Well, since you’re going to be here, you might as well enjoy it as much as you can,” Lucy said.
“How am I gonna do that?” he said.
Lucy went into her bag and pulled out Mariah Carey’s CD The Emancipation of Mimi and two movies: Heat with Robert De Niro and Al Pacino and The Notebook, which was one of her favorites that she believed Elliott would enjoy if she could get him to focus on it.
“Look at you, Lucy,” Elliott said. “I love the natural hair, the locs. Beautiful. It allows me to see your face better. In your face, I see what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. Remember how I used to move the hair away from your face? I did that to see you but also to see what was on your mind.”
“Well, that’s my cue to leave,” Danielle said. She got up, delicately hugged her dad and then her mom. “I will call later to find out if you’re staying past tomorrow. Relax, Daddy. Don’t get upset. Stay calm.”
The second doctor came in as Danielle departed. “How are you feeling today? You’re sitting up a little, which is a good sign. Head any better? How about your ribs? I’m sure they are still in bad shape.”
“I feel better, definitely,’ Elliott said. “The ribs, though.”
“Yes, the ribs,” the doctor said. “They are another thing altogether. Could be a few days before improvement. But you’ll get there. Meanwhile, the technician will take you for another CT scan to make sure all is good there.”
Lucy waited for about twenty minutes in his room as Elliott had the test done. She held her breath as she watched him gingerly get back into bed.
“I don’t see you for what feels like years and it’s under conditions like this,” he said.
“It’s fine,” Lucy said. “I’ve seen you looking worse.”
Elliott ate lunch with Mariah Carey playing as background noise. “Daniel called me,” Lucy said. “He’s all fired up about who did this to you. What did you tell him?”
“I told h
im I didn’t know,” Elliott said. “I’ve never been a fighter, and I’m even more mellow at my age. And you can’t tell because of the bandages, but I look good.”
“You were always more lenient about judging your appearance and I was always more honest,” Lucy said, laughing. “But your kids said you looked good when they visited you.”
“That dinner brought us a long way,” he said. “I’m talking to my children again…To you again. Which leads to a question.”
“The question is, ‘What movie do we watch first? Heat or The Notebook?’ ” Lucy said.
Elliott was not sure why she wanted to avoid the question, but he went with it.
“You decide,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll be sleep in the next thirty minutes.”
Lucy popped The Notebook into her laptop and sat it up on some pillows. Elliot had heard of the movie and knew it was the ultimate love story. Why is she playing this movie for me to see? he wondered to himself.
For several minutes, there was no divorce between them. They paused the movie to chat. Lucy made sure he was comfortable and helped him out of bed when he had to go to the bathroom about an hour into the movie. Elliott felt a connection with his ex, something he had given up hope on ever feeling again.
And yet, he would not allow himself to get optimistic. The scope of his personality forced him to look at the conditions under which Lucy was there. He was in pain in the hospital. They built a family together and spent almost twenty years as husband and wife…he was entitled to at least her care when he needed it. He was sure if the positions were reversed he would be there for her on the strength of their past alone, not in an attempt to get her back.
Still, there were moments that were tender. At times, he stared at her as she eyed the laptop. It was as if he needed to make sure she really was there.
“You look good, Lucy,” he said at one point.
“Watch the movie, Elliott,” she said without looking at him. He smiled and did as told. But the pain was overcome by joy.
The morphine and lack of sleep through the night took over, and Elliott dozed off at the point in the movie when Ryan Gosling took Rachel McAdams on the canoe trip on the lake, amid what looked like hundreds of ducks. Lucy was disappointed because she really wanted him to see that part; it reminded her of a ride on the lake at Stone Mountain early in their marriage. Like in the movie, they got caught in the rain, but were unfazed by it because they were together.
