“You said he called checking on me?” I tried to be as nonchalant as possible.
“Yeah, I just hung up with him a few minutes ago. He wanted to know if you were awake yet. Max asked if he could come into recovery to see you. I told him you were already out of recovery and we had set you up in a room.”
“Into recovery?”
“After surgery we keep patients in the recovery room until the anesthesia wears off and vitals are stabilized. It’s normally about an hour; you were in a little longer than most.”
“But why would he ask you?”
“Recovery is for medical staff only. Family and friends have to wait until someone is cleared from recovery before they can see them. Max was trying to get around the rules with his hospital credentials. I like Max and would’ve bent the rules for him, but there wasn’t any need. By the time he asked, you had already been moved into your room.”
“So did he say if he would be stopping by?”
“No, but since he was on last night, he should be getting off work soon. He may decide to check on you himself.”
I hoped that the doctor couldn’t see the flush on my face, as I did a momentary flashback to my time with Max in the ambulance. His amazing green eyes peered at me in my mind, and I felt giddy that he might pop through the door at any time.
“I’m going to give you a sedative to help you rest. I need you to get as much rest as possible; your body needs it.” The doctor put a syringe into my IV bag.
“You haven’t mentioned anything about my leg. Was everything okay with the surgery?”
“The bullet fractured - well shattered is a better description, a section of your femur and clipped your femoral artery. We were able to repair your artery in surgery and stop the bleeding. You’re young and in good health, so after we got the bleeding to stop and the bullet out, I kept you open a little longer. We put an intramedullary rod in your femur, screwed it in place, and did a bone graft to speed the healing process.”
The image of pins in my leg brought with it a flash of Frankenstein. I looked down at my leg to see metal pins sticking out of either side of my thigh. Gross! My leg was propped up on pillows, without a cast.
The doctor continued, “This would normally have been two surgeries, but the damage to your leg was pretty extensive, so we wanted to get the rod in right away. We’ll need you to stay off it today. Tomorrow we’ll have you try crutches to see if we need to put a frame on it for stability.”
“No cast?” I felt my senses slowing down as the sedative made its way through my bloodstream.
“The rod we inserted acts like a cast from the inside. We’ll wait for the swelling to go down before we have you work on mobility. With any luck we may not need to put a frame on.” He laid down my chart and made his way to the door.
The doctor seemed surprised as he crossed the threshold and declared, “Well - speak of the devil! We were just talking about you.”
My eyes were so heavy I couldn’t keep them open. I saw someone step through the doorway in a blue uniform shirt, just as my eyes closed.
Chapter Four
I awoke feeling groggy again, with my throat on fire. There was a perfume fragrance that was nearly overwhelming, almost as though I were breathing in through some floral air freshener. I forced my eyes open, and this time, the light wasn’t as blinding as it had been the last time I awoke.
I blinked my eyes a couple times and looked around to see if my room was empty. Seth was sitting on the visitor chair on my left, sound asleep. He was the best friend ever. I could see the worry on his face through the slumber. I reached out to touch his arm, but the tubes protruding from my arm acted like a restraint, so I wasn’t able to stretch my arm to him.
I looked around the room, surprised to see bouquets of flowers lining every table top, window sill and flat surface in the room. It looked like a floral shop, all sizes of arrangements in every pastel color: pinks, yellows, oranges, their combined fragrance overwhelming. I started to count the vases: one, two, three . . . seventeen, eighteen! Where had all these flowers come from?
The curiosity got to me, and I reached to the table on my right to see the card on the arrangement closest to me. It was from Melissa with a quick message scrawled, “I would trade with you in a minute and am still mad about the freezer.” The card warmed me knowing my ruse had kept Melissa safe.
I mulled over the events of last night. As soon as the man had entered the restaurant, I knew he was trouble. My body reacted to him before he even got near me. I’ve always had a sense for people, for their intentions, but never anything like last night.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always known things without proof and believed in outcomes others would never fathom. This would normally paint a picture of someone who is gullible and easily deceived. There are things that I understand that I cannot quantify, but unlike so many others, I don’t always require proof to validate my instincts.
Instincts: those elements that make the hair on your arms stand on end when danger approaches, that permit you to turn around quickly to catch a man’s gaze in a bar before he looks away. The last several years, my instincts have become sharper; I’m not certain if it is due to practice, age, hormones or what. I’m not physic or clairvoyant, just more perceptive than most.
I could have handled things differently, but if I had, the results might have been dreadful. As it was, my leg may have been shot, but I wasn’t in any insurmountable pain or anything. No one else had been put in jeopardy, so I was sure I’d picked the best course of action among some seriously crappy choices. I put Melissa’s card back in the holder.
My throat might as well have been lined with sand paper, the pain radiating was nearly unbearable. I laughed at myself - I lose a couple quarts of blood, suffer a gun-shot wound, die a few times on the operating table, and it’s a sore throat that’s unbearable. I looked for a glass of water. I didn’t want to wake up Seth; who knows how long he had stayed awake. I decided to push the, “Call Nurse” button on my bed. Mere seconds passed before an older stout woman came charging through the door. I raised my index finger quickly to my lips in an effort to keep her from talking aloud. I pointed at the sleeping Seth. She nodded in understanding. When I cupped my hand in a pretend glass gesture as if I were drinking, she nodded, understanding my sign language.
She smiled and walked over to a table that was overflowing with flowers. Tucked behind a large arrangement was a little plastic pitcher and glass she carried across the room to me. In a hushed tone, respecting my wishes not to disturb Seth, she asked, “How are you feeling?”
I managed a smile of my own and replied, “I think okay. What time is it?”
Her name tag read Felicia. She looked at her watch, “A little after noon. Are you hungry?”
Until she said the word hungry I hadn’t noticed, but by stomach was definitely empty, and I nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll be right back with some lunch for you. You may not want to let him sleep very long. The poor guy’s been worried sick about you all morning. I know he’d be thrilled to see you awake and having a bite to eat.” I nodded, and she turned around and was out the door in a flash.
My voice sounded like gravel. I drank the whole glass of water in relatively slow sips, partly to sooth my parched throat and partly to try to smooth my voice before I spoke. I cleared my throat quietly, then in a soft but audible voice uttered, “Seth…Seth helloooooo.” The sound gave him a sudden jolt, and I felt bad; he was sound asleep, and my voice startled him awake. He had a brief second of confusion, uncertain what had awoken him, then I could see the relief spill over his face.
In as smooth and playful a voice as I could squeak out, I asked, “So don’t you have anything better to do on a Friday than sit in a hospital all day accepting flower deliveries?”
Seth’s face beamed. He was on his feet and at my side in an instant, holding my hand with his, and gently caressing my forehead with his other. Seth had never pushed me to be physical with him, and any
handholding or tenderness had always felt a little awkward.
But today, I could see his genuine desire to be closer to me. I had never really craved his touch before, but feeling his tenderness provoked a desire for more, a yearning I didn’t know I had. I have no idea how long we spent motionless with one another, the only movement his gentle caress on my forehead.
In barely louder than a whisper he asked, “Lauren, I have so much to say to you. Are you really awake?” I nodded and couldn’t help but feel the warmth that emanated from him and the wave of unfamiliar tingles in my body.
He stared at me, then looked away as if he were embarrassed. His mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. I saw his eyes were fixed on our hands. I squeezed his hand as if trying to prove I was okay.
“I promise I’m awake…sorry I’ve been so out of it today. I guess I have some idea how a bear feels, hibernating and everything.”
Whatever he wanted to say, I didn’t want to push him. I liked this moment. I had never felt so close to him before and wanted to savor the moment a little bit longer. I was sure this was more a result of a horrific event than a new revelation on our relationship. I felt his breath speed up as he leaned in to kiss me. My mind was full of uncertainty: Where was this coming from? Although a small part of me liked his new found attention, a louder voice inside of me was screaming that this was huge mistake.
When I closed my eyes, all I saw were those sea foam green eyes with brown speckles in them, and I knew my desire was not at all for Seth. I needed to stop this.
Seth’s smile faded away. He looked briefly to the ceiling as if he needed his composure before his mouth would cooperate. Then finally in a remorseful voice, “This has been the worst day of my entire life. I feel so powerless to help you. I need you to be okay. Do you understand?” He didn’t break his stare or pull his hand away from me.
I nodded, but after feeling the intensity of his stare, I needed to calm him down, if that was even possible. “Seth, I’m fine, really. I’ve never been shot before, and honestly hope never to repeat it, but I feel okay. The doctor says I’m going to be fine.” I tried to switch gears on him and asked, “Where’s Mom?”
“Molly went home to take a shower. The doctor said you wouldn’t wake up for a while. She should be back any time. I’ll call her and let her know you’re awake again.”
The nurse came in with a lunch tray, then rolled an odd-looking table over the bed in front of me. She adjusted the bed so that I was seated nearly upright, and the table was at exactly the right height. I peered at the unappealing tray of food she had set in front of me. She filled my glass with water again and could see my disappointment. “Sorry Sweetie, this is the standard tray. I’ll bring you a menu so you can pick your meals for the remainder of your stay. You don’t have any dietary restrictions, so you can eat chocolate ice cream for every meal if you want.” She giggled a little and her less serious mood was exactly what I needed. I picked up the fork, “Well, thanks,” and pushed the food around a little. She gave me a half smile and disappeared out the door again.
I was pretty sure the meat was chicken, but it had creamy stuff all over it. Peas were my least favorite vegetable and there was a near mountain of them on my plate. The biscuit was hard as a rock, and to top it all off – tapioca pudding. I can’t imagine who would want this meal – certainly not me. After poking everything, I realized no matter how hungry I was, I wouldn’t find this lunch appetizing. Without trying to sound pathetic, I asked, “Seth, do you think you could get me some real food?” I looked at him hopefully, knowing he didn’t want to leave.
“Sure, what do you want?”
“Chicken and French fries would be great, but at this point I’ll take anything with grease.” He rolled his eyes at me. Seth had never approved of my eating habits but made no effort to try to dissuade me this time.
“Your mom should be back anytime. I’ll go get you something as soon as she gets here.” Seth saw the disappointment on my face and smiled knowingly, “Okay, I’ll go now. You’re right, I’ll probably beat her back here.” He delayed for a second as if he were arguing with himself.
“Seth, really, I’m okay. It’s okay to leave me. I’m just really hungry.” He nodded and started to turn around to leave, then stopped and stepped back toward me. He leaned down to kiss my forehead and whispered in my ear, “I’ll be right back. I miss you already.” He hesitated for just a second, then walked out.
I sat in silence for a minute. I was tired but not enough to nap again. I saw a television mounted on the wall and looked for a remote. There had to be one around here somewhere. I began to rifle through the drawer of the table the nurse had wheeled in front of me. The drawer’s contents included several old magazines, some hospital stationery, a couple pens, but no remote. I saw the table beside my bed and tried to angle my hand around the bed rail to open the drawer when a voice startled me.
“Is this where the town’s biggest hero is staying? I have to say I expected a little better accommodations for someone who single handedly foiled the town’s first armed robber in years. Threw yourself in front of a speeding bullet and everything. I expected you’d be in the penthouse suite.” The happy voice came booming in; I could hardly contain my excitement when I realized it was Max.
The events in the ambulance came flooding in. I was so thrilled to see him, I felt giddy. I nearly shrieked, “You remembered!” but regained my composure just before I could make a complete idiot out of myself. Up until Max walked through the door, my pulse had been a steady 60 beats per minute.
As soon as I realized it was Max coming through the door, my pulse began to increase steadily, and I knew at this point if I couldn’t get it under control someone was going to rush in with a syringe, and I might never be able to talk to him. I consciously willed my pulse to stay slow; it was at 95, but it hadn’t increased quickly enough to sound the monitor’s alarm.
Even with a concerted effort to try to contain my thrill at seeing him, I nearly squealed, “Hi Max, I’m glad you came.” Did that sound too needy? Play it cool, Lauren. Don’t scare him off.
His jovial mood was evident in every movement as he stepped through the door. He teased, “Lauren, are you kidding me? How could I not come? I stopped by earlier but Doc Gracie had just knocked you out. How’ya feelin?” His smile warmed the room, and I hardly paid attention to what he was saying. I stole a glance at the monitor again; it displayed 101 as I took a slow deep breath, willing it to slow down.
“Much better. The Doc filled my tank. He said I came in a couple quarts low last night.”
“Looks like you have a bunch of admirers from all the flowers. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many in one room.” At least he was better at small talk than I was. My mind raced, and anxiety crept forward with the realization that if we ran out of things to talk about, he might leave.
He had been about six feet away from me. I smiled as I looked at the flowers lining my entire room. After a few seconds my gaze left the flowers and went to his face. “Max, could you come a little closer?” I tried to motion for him to come closer but was quickly reminded that the tubes wouldn’t allow me much movement. He could see my frustration and moved right beside my bed.
He rested his hand lightly on the bed rail near my hand. I felt strange, a little nervous. Should I take his hand? What if he pulls it away? I ever-so-slightly inched my fingers closer to his, so close that only the width of a credit card separated us.
Unsure what to say, all I got out was, “Hi.”
Max leaned toward me a quarter inch, and his knuckles brushed against mine. With a sheepish smile and in barely more than a whisper, he responded, “Hi.”
For such a simple exchange, I was profoundly affected. If anyone had walked in right then, they would have looked away in embarrassment and tried to give us some privacy. I didn’t have any idea what to say to him, but at the same time had so much I needed for him to know. I looked at him, maybe into him.
Could this strange c
onnection I had with him really be one-sided? Had I been visiting his dreams? “I’m glad you’re going to be fine, Lauren.” I loved the way he said my name. His voice sounded exactly the same as it did all those nights in my dreams. It was really him. He was really here. A tender hand reached down to mine: a look of shock was visible on his face at the same time I felt an electric current shoot through me - not painful, but powerful.
My heart rate spiked to 120, which was enough that the monitor came to life. Max loosened his hold on my hand and turned his attention to the monitor. The nurse came into the room quickly and all but pushed Max out of the way. Max’s tone was apologetic, “I’d better get out’a here.”
Rapid fear shot through me. “No, stay,” I blasted a little too authoritatively and definitely too loud. I told myself to calm down and added, “Nurse, really, it’s nothing. I don’t want another shot; I was just happy to see Max.” Willing my heart to slow down, it cooperated a bit as it slowed to 118, then a few seconds later to 116. “Please, I really want to see him for a few minutes.”
Her nametag read “Felicia.” She shot a disapproving look, “Max, if it hits 125, you had better be prepared to explain to Doctor Gracie.” She turned to me, and the harshness of her tone had evaporated, “All right, dear, but just a few minutes. You haven’t been out of surgery very long, and we need to keep you as stable as possible.”
Max looked at the nurse, “Thanks, Felicia.” It hadn’t occurred to me, but Max probably knew the entire hospital staff. “I won’t stay long.”
I still had no idea what to say to Max but was sure that if I didn’t say something soon, he would leave, and I might never see him again. The miserable thought kicked my brain into high gear. “Max, I’m sorry about my heart not cooperating. I’m sure it’s from all the drugs in me.”
I knew I wanted to really talk to him, but the awkwardness of being in a hospital nearly tongue-tied me. “I wanted to thank you for everything…” I trailed off, unable to articulate anything more. His eyes were a mere few feet away and were truly breathtaking. The light green was like nothing I’d ever seen before, at least not outside my dreams, and the brown specs were so predominant, they were in one word – amazing. Realizing that I was staring, I quickly broke contact.
Meeting Destiny (Destiny Series) Page 3
