Heart of Clay

by Shanna Hatfield

  Chapter Eighteen

  Josh and Jenna pulled into Callan’s driveway. Someone had driven Clay’s truck home and parked it next to her car. It hurt to see it there.

  Callan knew if she opened the door, it would smell of Clay – of wood shavings and hay, leather, and his aftershave.

  Slowly drawing a shuddering breath, she braced herself to go inside the house. Josh opened her door and gave her a hand. She grasped it gratefully. She wasn’t sure she could even stand alone without a strong arm to support her.

  She fished in her purse, dug out her keys, and unlocked the door. The house seemed eerily quiet, oddly forsaken, as they stepped inside.

  Reminders of Clay were everywhere. The ball cap he’d worn on Friday was flung on the couch where he tossed it when he came in the door. In the kitchen, she found a stack of papers he’d been going through on the dining room table, working on plans for the fall semester at school.

  “Do you want to sit down, Callan?” Jenna asked, putting a comforting hand on her arm. “I can get whatever you need from the bedroom if you want.”

  Callan shook her head. “No, you two go on home. I’ll be fine. You need some rest, too. I’m going to take a shower and I can’t think beyond that.”

  Josh squeezed her arm lightly. “Cal, we aren’t leaving you here alone. Get what you need and come home with us for now.”

  The front door opened and Laken walked inside. She rushed to Callan and embraced her in a hug.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Laken held her close as tears spilled down both their cheeks. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  Callan found it impossible to speak at all. She let Laken hold her as they cried. Jenna clung to Josh, who kept clearing his throat.

  “Josh, why don’t you take Jenna home and rest? I’ll stay with Callan,” Laken finally said, looking his direction and taking charge.

  “Are you sure?” Josh asked, glancing at Callan. She nodded in agreement and gave him and Jenna each a hug with a whispered, “I love you,” before walking them to the door.

  As soon as they left, Laken pushed her toward her bedroom door. “Go take a shower. I’ll warm up some dinner and then we’ll decide what needs to happen next. I won’t let you argue on this.”

  Callan was too numb to think, too exhausted to argue. As she walked into the bedroom she’d shared with Clay, a room that held so many memories, waves of pain rushed through her. She hurried into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stood unmoving in the stream of warm water. She wished she could wash away the last several days and go back to having Clay home where he belonged.

  When Dr. Fisher walked toward her apologizing the other day, she feared Clay was gone and couldn’t bear hearing the words. After fainting and regaining her senses, Dr. Fisher was quick to explain that Clay was alive and holding his own. He’d come to apologize that it had taken him so long to let her know she could see Clay. She, Bobbi, and Steve all took turns sitting next to him, talking to him, encouraging him, praying for him.

  Despite their hopes and wishes for a quick recovery, Clay slipped into a coma and, for the most part, was unresponsive.

  Although David said it was to be expected with his head injury, it wasn’t any more comforting. Callan had been at the hospital for days. She began to lose track of time. Deciding it was Thursday, she remembered calling the office on Monday and talking to Jill, asking her to follow up with her appointments this week. She also called a couple of girls she hired to help with her own event planning business. Until Clay was better, she would turn things over to them.

  Callan wouldn’t be home now, but Dr. Fisher had ordered her to go home and rest, just for one night. Josh and Jenna insisted on driving her home and she was glad they had. She didn’t feel like she could have driven herself, even if she’d had a car to drive. Ralph and Julie were at the hospital now, giving Bobbi and Steve a much-needed break.

  The doctor removed Clay’s breathing tube that morning, and he breathed well on his own. Each day his vital signs were good, his broken body was slowly mending, but still he lingered in the coma.

  Dr. Fisher said Clay’s reflexes seemed to be fine, considering all the damage his body had endured. He also said they were almost past the point of major concern about infections from the wounds setting in. Now, they just had to wait and see when, not if – when, Clay decided to wake up and pray that he wouldn’t suffer from brain damage.

  Tears came anew to Callan as she contemplated life for Clay if he awoke with brain damage. Loved by his students and respected by his peers, he was a gifted teacher who made ordinary subjects interesting and exciting. He was so much fun and owned such a huge, giving heart.

  Callan couldn’t control the sobs that shook her as she thought about a world without Clay’s teasing remarks, sarcastic comments, great sense of humor, gentle encouragement, and especially his words of love. “Please let him be fine, Lord. Please…” Callan uttered the prayer again. She’d prayed it hundreds of times in the last few days.

  After washing her hair and stepping out of the shower, Callan dried off, put on pajamas and a light robe, then wandered into the kitchen where Laken pulled a chicken and noodle casserole from the oven.

  “I thought some comfort food might taste good, Callan. It’s your recipe, so I’m pretty sure it’s edible. Can I get you something to drink?” Laken asked as she moved to get two glasses out of the cupboard.

  “Just some water, please.” Callan leaned against the counter, trying to accept Laken’s assistance. It was so foreign to her, having someone wait on her in her own home. Laken was busy with her store and her family. Callan was sure she didn’t have time to sit around holding her hand.

  Callan sipped the icy cold water then clasped Laken’s hand in her own. “Laken, I so appreciate you coming over, but you don’t have to stay here with me. I’ll be fine. Your family needs you, too.”

  Laken squeezed her hand and gave her a warm smile full of love and support. “You can’t get rid of me that easy. Tyler has the kids under control for the evening and I’m not budging from here until you’re asleep. So there.”

  Callan smiled and gave Laken a hug. “Thank you for being such a good friend. What would I do without you?”

  “For starters, you’d probably be eating cereal with water on it, since the milk has gone bad. Do you want me to run to the store for you?”

  “No. I don’t plan to be home much for a while. No need to buy groceries until we’re home to stay.”

  Laken could see the tears in Callan’s eyes and decided she needed a distraction. She began telling her stories about all the crazy things her two active children had done in the past couple of weeks. She also gave Callan an earful about all the silly things Tyler had done. For a smart guy, he really did do many unbelievable things. His latest stunt was deciding to build a pirate ship in the backyard for the kids to play on. It started out with an old rowboat, a torn tarp, and some twine.

  “The monstrosity,” as Laken preferred to call it, overtook the entire backyard. Not only was it an eyesore, it killed the grass and stunted the growth of several plants. There were also the complaints that kept coming from the neighbors. “Tyler just threatens to make them walk the plank and hangs up. His stupid project is really making us popular throughout the neighborhood.” Laken’s laugh was contagious, infecting even Callan as they ate their dinner.

  Thankful to Laken for taking her mind off her life and problems, even for a little while, Callan smiled as her friend shared more funny stories. After finishing their dinner, they did the dishes and by that time, Callan was exhausted and decided to climb into bed.

  She slid between the cool sheets, wanting so badly to turn to Clay, only to find the empty space where he should be. She could smell his scent on his pillow and held it close to her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks and soaked her pillow. They had come so far in the past five months. She just wanted to go back to Friday afternoon when all was fun, happy, and right in their world. “Please let
him be fine.” Callan whispered between her sobs. “Please, Lord, please.”

  Callan slept late the next morning. The ringing of the phone awoke her. Sleep fogged her mind and made her voice sound rough and raspy when she answered.

  “Callan, it’s Laken. Did I wake you up? Oh, I’m sorry sweetie. I should have waited until later. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay this morning. Is there anything you need?”

  “No. I’m fine.” Callan looked at the clock and saw it was almost noon. She’d never slept that late in her entire life. “I’m glad you called. I might have slept the day away. Thanks again for coming over last night. I really appreciated you being here.”

  “No problem,” Laken said, with a smile in her voice. “You let me know if there is anything at all we can do. Promise?”

  “Promise. I’m going to jump in the shower to wake up, pack a few things, then head back to the hospital. I’ll try to call you tonight or tomorrow. Thanks again, Laken.”

  “Do you need someone to drive you?”

  “No. I’ll be fine and it’ll be nice to have my own transportation available. I hate being dependent on everyone.”

  “I know,” Laken said with a laugh. “Miss Independent is definitely you. Drive safely and keep me posted. Love you, Callan.”

  “Love you, too, Laken. Thanks again. Bye.”

  Callan hurried to take a quick shower, dressed, then made the bed. She dug out a bag to pack with clothes and necessities for a few days. As she pawed through a drawer, her hand connected with something solid. She pulled it out and stared at the heart Clay made for her the day Audrey and Emma visited. She’d meant to put it in her treasure box and hadn’t gotten around to it. Seeing it now brought agonizing pain to her own heart as she remembered that day and the look of love on Clay’s face when he handed it to her. Her legs trembled and she collapsed on the bed as a round of fresh tears shook her frame.

  Finally setting the heart down on her dresser, Callan wiped her cheeks and took a deep breath. Hysterics wouldn’t help anything or change what happened. For Clay’s sake, she had to pull herself together. No matter when Clay came out of his coma, he needed to know how much she still loved and needed him. That he had her heart forever.

  Quickly finishing her packing, Callan locked the house and backed out of the driveway, ready for the hour-long drive into the city to the hospital. On the way, she called Josh and Jenna to let them know she was driving herself and that she was fine.

  When she arrived at the hospital, she hurried back to ICU and found Steve waiting outside while Bobbi sat with Clay. He stood and gave her a hug then motioned to the seat beside him. “How are you? Did you get some rest?”

  “Yes, Dad, I did. Thanks.” Callan smiled at her father-in-law. He’d always treated her like a daughter and she loved him as much as she did her own dad. “It was so hard to be in the house without Clay. I don’t think I would have agreed to go home if I knew how difficult it was going to be. I miss him so much.”

  “I know, Callan. I know,” Steve said, with a faraway look on his face. “He was always like that, you know.”

  Puzzled, Callan stared at him.

  “Clay was always a special kid. He could bring an extra element of fun, or friendship, or understanding to any situation. He seemed to always know when it was best to tell a joke or lend a hand or just be there for someone.” Steve was quiet for a long moment, then laughed. “He’s always been quite partial to the joke-telling and prank-playing.”

  They both smiled, remembering jokes Clay had played on them and others.

  “It was priceless seeing him the day you came home with your new look. If hadn’t already been there, I would have paid money to see his face when he finally realized you were the mysterious beauty in his kitchen. Every time I think about it, I grin all over again.” Steve smiled broadly and patted Callan’s hand. “Now, that was something.”

  “I thought he was going to eat us all alive for dinner.” Callan shook her head as she remembered Clay’s irritated looks and dour expressions that lasted until everyone went home. She wouldn’t let herself think about what happened when their company had finally gone. The wonder of those moments and the thought she and Clay might never experience anything like them again created a pain that was too much to bear.

  Steve smiled again and cleared his throat. “Did I ever tell you about the time Clay managed to scare about ten years off my life? He was only five at the time.”

  Callan looked at Steve, waiting for him to continue.

  “You know where we stack the hay, back behind the barn? Well, it was spring and we’d piled a bunch of seed sacks next to one of the haystacks. Clay got it in his head that it would be fun to jump off the haystack onto the piles of seed. At first he was jumping off bales stacked just a couple high, so I wasn’t worried about him. We got busy working on some equipment and the next thing I knew, that crazy kid had climbed to the very top of the stack and jumped off. I hollered about the same time he jumped, but not soon enough to stop him. How he survived the fall, I’ll never know. He could have broken his neck, his back, every bone in his body. Instead, it knocked him senseless, gave him a doozy of a concussion and broke his nose. He had a nosebleed like you wouldn’t believe. Bobbi wouldn’t let Clay come out with me for months after that without her supervision. Eventually, we both earned her trust back, but Clay never did regain his sense of smell and he never could breathe right through his nose after that.”

  Steve took her hand in his and gave it a hopeful squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, Callan. Our boy is going to be just fine. Have faith and don’t give up hope. Our job is to keep encouraging him until he decides to wake up. Right?”

  Callan nodded her head. It was too hard to speak around the lump in her throat. She knew she needed to be strong not only for Clay but also for his parents. Clay was their only child. Callan knew how hard it was to lose a child. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing one you’d loved for thirty-six years. Calling on all her recently gained knowledge about positive thinking, Callan decided to focus only on the good.

  Clay would wake up, he would be fine, he would heal, and life would go on. That was the way it would be, since she refused to think of the alternatives.

  If only Clay would realize the first step was for him to wake up.