Dangerously Close

by Dee J. Adams

  Ellie gave up her visual hunt and did the same. “Don’t you want me to bring those chairs up?” she asked, gesturing behind her shoulder as they moved toward the stairs.

  “No. I just keep them down here. It’s a private alcove. No one’s here but me. As long as the weather stays good, I just fold ’em and leave ’em out. It’s less to lug up the stairs.” A bee buzzed past her ear and she ducked away from it.

  “Your neighbor hasn’t moved in yet?”

  “Not yet. I don’t know if he ever will at this point.” Ashley trudged up the first chunk of stairs. “A cleaning service comes in a couple times a month and goes over the place, but other than that, nothing.” She blinked her eyes as the spots connected on her peripheral vision and became a black wall slowly closing in on her. Ashley picked up her pace. “I wouldn’t mind if he never moved in. What if the guy in the main house turns out to be a party animal or drug dealer? Then I’ve got nothing but crack-heads up here. That would suck.”

  “I thought the real estate agent assured you that wouldn’t happen, Ash. She said the owners would do a thorough investigation of the buyer.” The owners were a divorced couple who had split all their funds and properties equally between them. They’d split the lot and sold their nine thousand-square-foot main house and guesthouse separately. “Both people liked you and totally sympathized with your…” Ellie faltered, looking for the right word to describe Ashley’s life. “Struggle,” she finished, following closely behind.

  Ashley would’ve laughed if the word hadn’t fit so well. She had struggled. She’d gone through physical therapy, occupational therapy, therapy therapy…

  She adjusted her bag over her shoulder as she reached the middle landing of the steep stairway. The bee made another pass at her head and she swatted at it.

  “Here, hand me that,” Ellie said, reaching for the beach bag. “I’ll be the pack mule. You just concentrate on the stairs.”

  “I’m fine.” But after months in the hospital and more months in rehab, Ashley knew better than to argue with her best friend, and let her take the weight off her shoulder. Ellie passed her and continued up the stairs. Ashley fell in behind.

  “Oh, be careful of that middle section,” Ashley said, pointing further ahead. “One of the railroad ties is splitting and needs to be fixed. Just watch your step.” Another wave of spots connected and her vision tunneled even more. This was going to be close. She could only see directly in front of her and that little spot was closing rapidly.

  Ashley moved a little faster to catch up with Ellie. The bee zoomed right in front of her and she instinctually leaned back. Her heart stalled as she wind-milled her arms and tried to catch her balance. A scream tangled in her throat as she lost the battle and fell backward. Time seemed to slow as gravity pulled her down, an “oh shit” moment she’d never forget. If she lived through it.

  The thought splintered in her head. She heard Ellie cry out a second before she landed hard, pain exploding in her back and head. It didn’t end. She kept falling, rolling down every last step, feeling every hard blow that knocked her body until she landed at the sandy bottom.

  Then nothing.

  * * *

  Throbbing in Ashley’s head brought her out of a deep fog. The headache from hell threatened to split her skull and she didn’t dare crack open her eyes. Long seconds ticked by and something didn’t feel right. This wasn’t her bed. These weren’t her soft sheets. This didn’t make sense. She shoved aside the incessant pounding and listened to the sounds around her. The rhythmic beat of some kind of monitor, the quiet hum of a fluorescent light and faraway voices she didn’t recognize. An antiseptic smell, the coarse sheets over her sore body.

  Panic skittered up her spine. A hospital.

  Tears pricked her eyes and she fought back the sting. Not again. She couldn’t do this again. She couldn’t endure more months of therapy, or hospital food, or tubes running from her body, connecting her to different machines, or smiling through the pain when all she really wanted to do was shut down and cry. She didn’t try to move or open her eyes and it wasn’t because of the headache. She just wasn’t brave enough.

  Because what if she couldn’t? What if no part of her body responded to her mind? What if she’d been in another coma and months of her life had drifted by without her? How could this have happened to her a second time? She searched her memory—how the hell had she landed here?

  She’d been at the beach with Ellie. They’d soaked up the afternoon sun and yammered nonstop. Her vision had gotten spotty and they’d packed up, taken the stairs…

  More tears threatened and she ruthlessly shoved them back. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she refused to work herself into a tizzy without knowing the facts, and the first fact was she didn’t know enough to get upset.

  Taking a deep breath and mustering all her courage, she managed to wiggle her toes and felt the sheet rasp against her feet. Relief and elation bumped up her heart rate. Next she moved her fingers and fisted her hands. A long sigh escaped her lips and she shifted the rest of her body before a rolling pain arced through her. Slowly, she lifted brick-heavy lids to a very dark room. She blinked to clear the fuzziness and could hardly make out anything at all. It had to be past midnight…that would explain the darkness. But filtered light edged its way into her peripheral vision. That must have been the fluorescent light overhead. Or was it coming from the hallway? Hard to tell with her vision as limited as it was. But she’d obviously suffered a major concussion so funky vision was par for the course.

  As long as she could move and think, she could handle the situation. She didn’t feel any tubes aside from an IV in her arm. She closed her eyes. No worries, as Ellie always said. She wouldn’t freak out. Maybe if she slept a little longer she could leave her raging headache behind.

  Headache. Of course! She’d been on the verge of a migraine. The checkerboard-turned-tunnel vision had been an unmistakable sign. Ashley opened her eyes again and suddenly understood. Her sight was screwy from her migraine. A temporary situation she’d lived with before.

  Sleep. She needed to sleep it off. When she woke up she’d be fine. She’d have her “shadow headache,” but she’d dealt with those with every migraine.

  With renewed confidence, Ashley closed her heavy eyes and relaxed.

  A minute later, she felt pressure on her shoulder. “Miss Bristol,” a man said softly. “Can you hear me?”

  Her head ached. Correction: every inch of her ached. She struggled to open her tired eyes but it was tougher this time. God, she was wiped out.

  “Miss Bristol, I’m Dr. Wycliff, can you hear me?”

  There were two types of doctor tones that Ashley had learned to decipher. The first was the “God” tone that said, “You will listen and obey, for I am the final word.” Then there was the second. The soothing tone and soft hand that spoke of someone who cared. This doctor seemed to be the latter.

  “Mmm.” Ashley licked her dry lips. She’d kill for some ice right now. She forced her eyes open. The room was dim and she still couldn’t see anything directly in front of her. What she did see was a torso in white, and that, along with the rest of her peripheral vision, was damn blurry. An initial wave of fear receded as she remembered her migraine. “I hear you,” she mumbled. She might have tried moving her head to the side, but it hurt too much. “Just having trouble seeing you. Can I get some ice or water? Or both, please.”

  “You’re having trouble seeing me?” the doctor repeated. A straw tickled her lips and she sipped cold water. God, it tasted good. “Not too much,” he said.

  She wanted to joke that maybe she was nearly blind, but at least she wasn’t deaf, but this guy didn’t know her or her sense of humor so she kept her answer straight. “Migraine,” she explained. “Puts pressure on my optic nerve. It’ll go away. I just need to sleep it off. What time is it?”

  “It’s eight in the morning.”

  That got her attention, especially since she’d fallen in the middle of the a
fternoon. If she’d been asleep that long, her eyesight should’ve been back completely. Come to think of it, her vision loss had never been like this before. The cobwebs cleared and all her questions came to the surface. She tried to lift her head, but thought better of it when a knifelike pain lanced between her eyes. “Wait. Eight in the morning? How long have I been here? What happened? Where am I?”

  “Ash, it’s okay. I’m here too.” Ellie took her hand and squeezed gently and that sent a sting of tears to Ashley’s eyes. Ashley moved her gaze, but only saw Ellie’s arm where it stretched to hold her hand. “You’re at St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica. You—” Ellie stopped midsentence and Ashley listened closely to what was happening around her. It was too quiet and she felt another level of communication happening that didn’t involve her. She blinked her eyes furiously as if that might restore her vision before this whole thing got out of hand.

  “Do you remember how you got here, Ashley? Anything at all?” the doctor finally asked.

  She remembered the bright sun. The way it glinted off the ocean and hurt her head. “I remember getting the spotty vision and packing everything up. Ellie and I were going up the stairs. I pointed out the split step…” She’d pointed out the step and started up…but then what? The buzzing. “That damn bee dive-bombed me.”

  “Yes, and you took a big fall down a flight of steps. Miraculously, nothing’s broken,” the doctor said. “We had to put a few staples in your head.”

  Oh, God. They’d shaved her head clean the last time and her hair had finally grown back. Now she’d have to start over again. Even if they’d only shaved a patch, she refused to do the comb-over thing. But, face it, hair was the least of her problems.

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Just a day, Ash. It’s not like last time.” Ellie must have known her fear of losing so much time again. She’d already lost two months of her life once. She didn’t want to do it a second time.

  “Okay, so now what? When will I get my vision back?” That seemed like a good first question. A logical question. At least her brain was functioning.

  “We’ll have to do some more tests,” the doctor said. “We’ve already run a CAT scan and an MRI, but we’ll do another round and see if there’s anything different. We need to see what’s going on in your head before we can treat the vision loss.”

  Vision loss. The words struck her as a punishment. Maybe this was God’s joke. What was the point of seeing life if she refused to live it? The morbid thought pissed her off. “It’s not permanent, is it?” Ashley asked. Panic increased along with her pulse. “I mean this is just temporary like all the other times, right?” Except her other loss of vision had been very different. Ellie squeezed her hand again as if she understood exactly how terrifying this sounded.

  “It’s too soon to tell, but we’ll do everything we can to restore your eyesight. Tell me what you see?”

  “I can see around the edges,” she told him. “But the middle is a big void. There’s nothing. Usually, with my migraines, I experience checkerboard vision, but I sack out before I completely lose my sight. This is different.”

  The doctor clicked something and Ashley saw his wrist move in front of her face. He must have been testing her pupil for light, but he didn’t say anything until he clicked his penlight a second time. “Your eyes react to light, so we’ll have to do some more tests and figure this out.”

  “When can I go home?” she asked.

  “Once you’re stabilized, and we’re confident that you won’t experience any ill effects, we’ll discharge you.”

  Ill effects. She’d been through this before. He meant seizures. But she took anti-seizure medication so that was probably a very remote possibility. Wasn’t it? “I’m already on Keppra,” she explained. Then she told him about her head injury from two years ago and the ensuing coma. She gave him the name of her neurosurgeon and he promised to call and get her file. Her list of meds was slowly dwindling, but not fast enough. This incident could set her back months.

  Damn she wanted out of here and to be in her own home.

  Home. God, she’d worked like a maniac to fix up her house—sometimes as much as eighteen hours a day—and now she couldn’t even see it. What irony. But this was temporary. It had to be. She refused to believe that she’d be all but blind for the rest of her life.

  “I’ll be back this afternoon to check on you again, okay?” Dr. Wycliff said.

  As if she had a choice in the matter. “Sure. See you later. Ah…no pun intended.” If nothing else, she’d kept her sense of humor when it came to life. Her mother had instilled it in her and not even a near-fatal accident and subsequent coma had stolen it. Actually, wit was one thing she couldn’t afford to lose.

  That sense of humor had also fooled her family and friends into thinking she’d gotten past the ordeal. More than anything else in the world, Ashley didn’t want to worry the people who loved her. They’d all put their lives on hold for her, sacrificed for her, and she owed them a smile, not uncertainty.

  A flurry of footsteps shuffled from the room and Ashley was left with Ellie. Thank God for her best friend. “Ellie Belly. What the hell did I do this time?”

  Ellie laughed and patted her thigh. “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.” She paused. “You scared the shit out of me, Ash.”

  “Yeah, well babe, I scared the shit out of me first, so get in line. If I’ve been here all night then I’ll bet money you were too. Go back to the house and get some sleep. That’s what I’m going to do. I know if I sleep enough I’ll get my vision back. I don’t want to go through all those damn tests when I don’t need to. So, seriously, go home and crash. Come back later. Maybe with an In-N-Out, okay? I’ve been jonesing for a burger for weeks.”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” Ellie said. “For what it’s worth, I tried to call Mom, but I couldn’t get her because of some type of storm in between us and her cruise ship.” Ellie had been calling Aurora Bristol “Mom” ever since the girls had been in junior high. It never failed to make Ashley think of her as more of a sister than best friend. “Also, I left a message with Sheryl, but I didn’t want to freak her out so I only told her that you fell. Which reminds me,” Ellie said. “I’m going to tell your mother and your sister to quit taking cruises because that seems to be the only time you land in the hospital. Last time it was Sheryl and this time it’s Mom.”

  Thank God for Ellie’s attitude. Her moniker of “Coma Girl” had helped Ashley keep her sense of humor during her recovery the last time. Banning all future cruises to avoid further hospital stays was right up Ellie’s alley.

  “I hear you. From now on, we’ll just ban all water-related vacations.” Even though she’d happily paid for her mother’s trip, next time she’d plan something entirely different. “I think Sheryl is on her way home from London. When she calls, tell her I’m okay. Not to come. I don’t want to worry her or Mom. At least not until I have to. Let’s wait and see what the doctors say before we tell them anything.”

  “Ashley.” The reproach in Ellie’s voice didn’t change her feelings on the matter.

  “Ellie. I’m serious. They dropped everything two years ago and I’m not going to put them through that again. Promise me you won’t say anything. I’ll tell them what’s going on when we know, but until then, I don’t want them putting their lives on hold for me a second time. It’s not fair.”

  Her best friend sighed, clearly unenthusiastic about this choice. “Fine. I promise.”

  Ashley flashed a quick smile she didn’t feel. “Thank you. Now, seriously, go home. I want to be out of here before Mom gets back. So go. Get some rest.”

  Ellie leaned close and slipped a cell phone in Ashley’s hand. “I’m a phone call away,” she said quietly. “Can you feel the grooves on your keypad?” She guided her finger and Ashley felt the indentation of each pad. “I’m number three on your speed dial, right? Right here on the end. Easy peasy. Call me if you need anything and I’ll be right back.�
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  Amazingly, Ashley realized that her senses were already heightened. Her hearing was sharp, her skin more sensitive. It was odd to be so hyper aware of things.

  “I’m good. I told you I’m crashing. See you later.”

  “Later.” Ellie kissed her cheek and left the room.

  Aside from the machines humming, silence washed over her. No, it wasn’t silence. It was loneliness. Once again she was in a battle with herself. No one could fight it but her. She’d done this once before, but could she do it again? She had no idea.

  Ashley held onto the phone like a lifeline.

  Chapter Two

  Boise, Idaho

  June

  Six Months Ago

  Seger Hughes opened his blurry eyes. Barely. One of them was nearly swollen shut. The other was shrouded in a haze of red blood vessels he didn’t need to see to know they were there. An echo of pounding drums and driving bass still beat a rhythm in his brain. Beside him, a naked body shifted. He knew she was naked because he felt her smooth skin along his side and he knew she was a she because…well…he’d done this a thousand times before.

  Right now, he would give last night’s paycheck just to feel the slightest bit human. His body hurt from the inside out. His eye throbbed, his stomach clenched, his mouth felt like old sod on a trampled football field. He was, very simply, fucked up. Although not as much as he’d been last night. Last night had taken fucked up to new levels.

  Seger didn’t want to look at the woman next to him. Shit. What was her name anyway? He couldn’t even begin to remember. Bimbo? Bambi? Becky? Christ. Welcome to Loser Central. His kingdom.

  The urge to pee won out and Seger crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom of his hotel suite. In…Bumfuck, somewhere. He had no clue. After twelve months on the road, he wanted to disappear. He wanted to chuck his guitar and his name and he wanted to…disappear. Completely. There was no other word for it. Considering how hard he’d worked to get here, it was a damn shame he was so ready and willing to throw it all away.